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#red deer mentioned???
i-ate-gravel · 2 months
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My reaction to umbrella academy s4 so far:
Ep. 1: okay
Ep. 2: okay
Ep. 3: okay
Ep. 4: RED DEER MENTIONED????? RED DEER MENTIONED!!!!!! WHY????? WHAT??????
can't wait to see what the rest has in store.
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A social media post by a school board trustee with Red Deer Catholic Regional Schools prompted a statement from the school board on Friday as well as calls for her resignation.
A recent story shared online from a social media account belonging to Monique LaGrange included an old black-and-white photo of smiling children leaning out a window waving Nazi flags with the swastikas on them.
A more modern photo directly beneath it shows young children in a classroom holding up homemade Pride rainbow flags.
The caption reads: “Brainwashing is brainwashing.”
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Tagging: @politicsofcanada
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randomnameless · 1 year
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Well, looks like even a broken clock's right at least twice a day; an edelstan on twitter was pissed a few days ago when they saw that Cyril's Meet the Heroes description described his time “working” for House Goneril as “some odd twists and turns”, pointing out that such vague wording was most likely used due to a combination of 3H not caring about Cyril's backstory and IS needing to sanitize Hilda's image so she can sell better in Heroes.
Hahaha,
It's funny because on SPE some people made memes, and you have angry people in the comments, being angry and basically lying or making up facts to either diminish Cyril's uh, "working conditions" in House Goneril, or try to sweep it under the rug to give some "Rhea BaD" takes again
Like :
(meme where Claude doesn't criticise his allies for keeping slaves, but blame racism on the lady who saved the child slave)
"Faerghus is the most violent country because they killed the emperor and enacted a coup while being backed up by mole people" to talk about that time when Loog got his independance
"Rhea BaD bcs Cyril can't learn how to read if you don't support him with Lysithea" even if he writes in the Post TS regardless of recruiting Lysithea or not
"Claude tries to talk to Cyril out of fighting but Cyril drives to a suicide charge with Rhea's blessing so Rhea BaD" in GW, with the source being, idk, since the person who came with that take never sourced it
"Rhea BaD she used the regicide in Faerghus to get rid of her political enemies" you mean the dude who tried to kill her?
"Supreme Leader wouldn't be able to continue warring if Rhea DeD bcs else she would be invading people and would lose public support" like the Supreme Leader? From the land of MAGA? Lose public support?? If she invades nations to restore Adrestia to its glorious past???
"Cyril never said he wasn't eating well in house Goneril" but the JP line says he was always hungry in PAlmyra and Fodlan before coming to the Monastery...
Anyways, as expected, even if FEH tries to sanitise some of Fe Fodlan's most, uh, contentious points, we will always have discourse because some people just prefer their fanon to canon, and while I can understand them to a degree (look Willy is basically fanon at this point) it's always hilarious to see people refuse to engage or even consider that the game they "love" says X when they prefer Y.
When it comes to, in general, Church related characters or Kingdom related characters, we see a lot of discourse like this popping up because while FE Fodlan shat on them (to an extent, for the Church related characters) FEH has to give them the minimum spotlight they give to other characters of the franchise, so yes, Hilda's popularity most likely is the reason why Cyril in MYH just had some "odd twists and turns" (tfw Begnion Senators aren't as popular :( so Muarim was mentionned to have been a slave) but his voiced lines has him mention he was captured as a "war prisoner"...
Putting everything it adds up and we have : Cyril was captured as a war prisoner when he was 11-12 by the Gonerils, was hungry there, complained about "work being hard" there (when Cyril doesn't complain at all in GM despite the huge workload he has!), and implies to Mercedes to have been mistreated in House Goneril because he was Almyran (which matches Hilda's prejudices in her C support about Almyrans).
Why is Cyril's backstory so "discourse rising" then?
Is it because Rhea BaD cannot rescue a child from slavery from a popular character's family/household? Or because Hilda's laziness and preference to let other people do her chores looks especially wrong if we take into consideration that those "other people doing her chores" at home might be children "kept as prisoner of wars and fed twice per week"? Or because it reflects badly on Claude (in both games) who wants to end discriminations and prejudices by getting rid of the institution that rescued an abused child, while working hand in hand with the family that abused said child based on his origins?
(lol@the "but Faerghus BaD" bonus point in the earlier SPE thread I mention, I don't even understand why it was brought up lol)
Back to your post, it's hilarious how this edelstand was pissed becayse FEH whitewashed Cyril's backstory to maybe sell more Hilda alts, when Pat'n'pals try their hardest (in FE16, Nopes and even FEH!) to "alter the script" to shit on Rhea, Dimitri to make Supreme Leader alt'able.
Maybe there's hope for this twitter/X stan?
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battle-of-alberta · 1 year
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how much wood could a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood?
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me gnashing and wailing in the background because i set up an easy ask months ago and instead you guys ask me things like this
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ninesartblog · 2 years
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CW// Death mention + drawing of animal skull
I stared into the face of death, and Death looked back- lonely and yearning.
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yuujispinkhair · 8 months
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You are watching Sukuna. And Sukuna is watching his brother's girlfriend... Until he is watching you.
-> This is Part 2 of this drabble
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Modern!Sukuna x Reader (female) Fluff + angst with a happy end. Word count: 4k. Angst, lots of pining, unrequited love at first, mentions of alcohol. There is no cheating. Sukuna and Reader get their happy end. Minors don't interact.
This small series was inspired by this beautiful art by @nayasch.
Also, for the best experience, I recommend listening to "Is there somewhere" by Halsey while reading this. I had it on repeat while writing. Divider @/hitobaby
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It's a spilled drink that brings you closer to Sukuna.
Just a moment ago, you were holding your breath as you walked past the tattooed, pink-haired boy who makes your heart race, too shy to even look his way when you were so close to him. But then someone knocked into you, and now you are standing there like a deer in the headlights, your hands wet, your shirt ruined, staring wide-eyed at the big red stain soaking the front of your crush's white t-shirt.
You faintly hear some guy behind you apologizing. You have no idea if he is apologizing to you or to Sukuna. All you know is that Sukuna is glaring daggers at him,
"Get out of my sight before I punch your stupid face!"
And then those beautiful maroon eyes snap to you, and you forget how to breathe. You wished for Sukuna's gaze to find you, dreamed about it all the time. Hoped he would notice you, hoped that fate would hand you a chance to get closer to him. But now that it happens so unexpectedly, you don't know what to do. A muttered "S... sorry." leaves your lips.
Sukuna's gaze travels from your face down to your shirt, which is just as soaked as his. And that attractive lopsided smirk appears on his face, the one that gives you butterflies, especially now when he is standing right in front of you, close enough to touch. He shrugs,
"Wasn't your fault. I'm gonna change into a fresh shirt. What about you? Want one, too?"
You barely manage a nod before Sukuna starts walking away, and you quickly follow him to his room with your heart beating up to your throat.
He doesn't bother turning away but just pulls his soaked shirt off right in front of you, making your stomach flutter and your face heat when you see his firm abs and chest adorned with those sexy tattoos.
He laughs softly, probably seeing how flustered you are by his bare chest. But he doesn't comment on it and hands you one of his clean shirts, a white one like the one he was wearing before you spilled your drink over it.
He leaves the room after slipping into a fresh shirt, leaving you alone in his room so you can change in peace.
You sit on his bed afterward, pulse fluttering as you feel the soft fabric of Sukuna's shirt on your skin. You bring it to your nose to inhale its scent. It's fresh out of the laundry, so it mostly smells just of fabric softener, but it was in his dresser with his other things, and you can very faintly smell his cologne on it, making you close your eyes and sigh softly, overcome by a longing so bad it almost makes you choke up.
It's ironic. As if fate is taunting you. Here you are, sitting on Sukuna's bed and wearing his shirt like a girlfriend would. But he is already gone again, back to the party, where he will gaze at his brother's girl with the same longing in his eyes that fills yours, too, when you look his way.
Your hand reaches out to touch Sukuna's pillow, fingers sprawling over it, while you stare longingly at the dent where his head rests every night. What you wouldn't give to sleep in this bed with him. Feeling his strong arms around you, your body snuggled against his. Holding him, loving him, showing him that he can have all those things he longs for.
If only things were different.
It's hard to pull yourself away and leave Sukuna's room again. You feel a strange mix of emotions as you walk back to the party. Exhilaration upon getting Sukuna's shirt and being in his room, mixed with that familiar heavy feeling in your chest because you know he isn't yours, and he probably never will be.
You enter the living room and see him leaning casually against the wall in his fresh shirt, tattooed arms crossed over his chest, biceps flexed enticingly, head tilted back, a bottle of vodka pressed to his lips as his eyes are once again on his brother and his girlfriend, who are dancing in the middle of the room.
You leave the party shortly after to go home and crawl into your bed, still wearing Sukuna's shirt, hugging your pillow to your chest, wishing it was him.
Is he alone in his bed, too? Does he yearn, too? Does he, too, think about the one he craves but cannot have?
The thought makes your heart throb painfully.
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Another party, another evening of watching the boy you secretly love from your safe space across the room. His gaze is unsurprisingly on the girl standing next to his brother. Yuuji says something to her, and she laughs happily and hugs him tightly, nuzzling her face against his shoulder. And you see Sukuna's jaw tighten, see his Adam's apple bob as he gulps hard, see the burning jealousy and pain in his eyes.
You blink against the tears threatening to well up in your eyes. His pain is almost palpable to you, but no one else seems to see it. No one seems to care enough to really look at Sukuna. They all just see Sukuna's mocking smirk and the arrogance and roughness he wears like armor. They don't see the pain in those beautiful maroon eyes. They don't see that his heart is aching.
Maybe you only recognize the signs because you feel the same way.
Maybe it is this all too familiar pain you see on his face that makes you brave tonight. And after all, you have a good excuse to walk up to him and stop in front of him, tilting your head to look up at his beautiful face, and say softly,
"Hey, Sukuna... thank you for the shirt you gave me last week. I wanted to give it back to you."
You don't really want to give it back. You have slept every night in it since last week, snuggling into it, inhaling the faint traces of Sukuna's scent, dreaming about having him in your bed, hugging him, feeling the warmth of his body seep through the thin fabric of the t-shirt.
But you reluctantly put it in the washing machine yesterday, folded it neatly, and put it in your bag to return it to him tonight.
You hand him the shirt, and Sukuna takes it, his large hand with the tattoos and various rings brushing over yours, sending the butterflies fluttering in your stomach like crazy. You know how nervous you must look when you smile a shaky smile at him,
"Thank you again. That was really nice of you."
There is surprise in his eyes as if no one ever tells him he is nice. Maybe he isn't. Or maybe people just don't see the small, nice things he does sometimes. Maybe he doesn't want them to see.
"No problem, princess."
You lie awake that night, in your own shirt this time, but with Sukuna's low, velvety voice playing over and over in your mind, calling you princess. You know it means nothing, but it still makes your heart race and a giddy smile lift your lips.
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You clutch your drink tightly as you watch the boy you secretly love from across the room, just like you do every weekend. If only you weren't so shy. If only you were brave enough to walk over to him without needing a reason like giving back his shirt.
You sigh longingly as your eyes trail over Sukuna's face. Longing is what you can see on his face, too, as his gaze is on the happy couple at the other end of the room. Your chest feels so tight that it hurts.
I want to take the pain away from you, Sukuna. I wish I could be the one to make you happy.
But you are standing here, and he is standing over there with his eyes on someone else.
A sad love song starts playing and the air in the room feels suffocating all of a sudden.
Maybe you should leave.
What are you even doing at this party, where you are surrounded by so many people but feel more alone than at home, where it is only you and your bed?
What are you doing, coming here week after week just to stare at a boy you can't have? Hurting yourself when you see him looking at someone else. Drowning in desperation when you realize week after week that he is just as alone in his pain as you are and that you will probably never be able to break through his walls.
He is in pain, and you are in pain, and nothing will change about that.
Might as well leave and never come back. Stay away from those stupid parties. Find other places to go to. Maybe after some time, you will be able to forget about pink hair and black tattoos and maroon eyes.
Right when you push yourself off the wall, Sukuna turns his head. That beautiful maroon gaze lands on you, and all you can do is stare back at him.
Time seems to slow down as you and Sukuna look at each other across the room. You are sure he can see the tears threatening to spill over, can see the pain in your eyes, can recognize it for what it is because he carries the same pain in his eyes.
Maybe that shared pain is what makes him slowly walk over to you. He stops in front of you, his typical teasing smirk on his lips, but the same sadness still unveiled in his eyes.
For a moment, you think he will ask you to go to his room with him to fuck. And it fills you with dread because you know you would just be a rebound. You would just be someone he uses for sex to take his mind off the girl he really wants. It would mean nothing to him. And yet, you know that you would say yes. You would go with him, would lay down in his bed, would let him take everything he needs from you until you have nothing left. And in turn, you would take anything he is willing to give you, too, even if it was just meaningless sex. Because even if he just used you to distract himself, it would still be better than nothing. Even if it were just impersonal sex, without any feelings involved from his side, you would still go with him just to feel his skin on yours.
But to your relief, the question never comes. Instead, he says in that calm, low voice,
"You look like you aren't enjoying this stupid party either. Even the pizza tastes disgusting. I'll make something myself. Wanna join me?"
You follow him as if you are in a daze. Everything around you is blurred as you walk behind Sukuna's tall figure, following him to the kitchen, your head spinning, making you feel light-headed even though you barely drank any alcohol.
You sit on the kitchen counter while he cooks. Studying his beautiful face while he is focusing on the pan in front of him. The pain in his eyes is not as burning anymore while he stirs the vegetables and adds various spices. Maybe this is why he wanted to come here. Maybe cooking distracts him enough to ease the pain at least a little.
Those maroon eyes you love so much meet yours while Sukuna tells you how tired he is of those parties all the time and those people he cannot stand in his apartment. He doesn't say what he really means, but you know. How tired his heart is of the longing, of the pain, of having to pretend like he is ok.
You tell him he is a good cook when he hands you a spoon to try, and a smile flickers over his face. A genuine smile, not the typical smirk. And it makes you fall. Makes you tumble down an abyss that you know you will never be able to get out of again. As if you needed to fall even more for him. As if you weren't already too in love with him.
You know you are lost. Lost in everything that makes Sukuna Sukuna. You thought you knew him and already fell in love with what you knew about him on a surface level. But now you have caught glimpses of the boy beneath the surface, and it makes you fall even deeper in love with him. Makes your chest hurt even more. Makes your every fiber scream with longing.
He hoists himself up on the kitchen counter next to you, handing you a plate and grabbing one for himself, too. You sit in silence, eating side by side, while the sounds of the party dimly drift to your ears through the closed door.
You praise his cooking skills some more because you are too nervous to think of anything else to say and because you like the way his lips curl in a smile again and how the pain in his eyes is almost completely gone when he turns to look at you.
He tells you where he got the recipe, how he adjusted it over several weeks, and that he enjoys cooking a lot. The way he says it doesn't sound like he is simply doing small talk, but rather as if he is letting you in on a secret. As if this is a side of Sukuna that people aren't supposed to know.
And you smile softly at him, hoping it conveys that you are grateful that he lets you share this moment with him.
His thumb brushes over the corner of your lips to scoop up some stray sauce, making your heart beat so fast you think you will black out.
When you leave an hour later, you tell him that you really enjoyed yourself,
"Thank you for letting me try your food. It tasted delicious... and I..."
You want to tell him how happy it made you to spend time with him, just the two of you in the kitchen. That you will always keep those moments in your heart like a treasure. But you are too shy to say those words out loud, and so you trail off sheepishly, smiling nervously at him and nodding awkwardly.
"Bye, Sukuna. Have a nice rest of the night."
He watches you closely with those beautiful maroon eyes, a thoughtful expression on his face, saying nothing. But he holds the door open for you like a gentleman in those old movies.
You can still feel the ghost of his touch on your skin when you lie in bed with a smile on your face and a warm feeling in your chest for the first time after coming home after one of those parties.
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You are standing in a corner, taking a sip from your drink as your gaze wanders to the tall figure leaning against the wall across the room. Tattooed face and arms, pink hair, and maroon eyes.
You are prepared to see his gaze glued to his brother's girl. You are prepared to see the familiar longing and pain on his face. But you frown when you realize Sukuna's gaze isn't staring at a fixed place but instead wandering slowly through the room, scanning it as if he is searching for something or someone, even though the object of his pining is right in front of him. And yet that gaze slips over her and continues to wander.
Until it lands on you.
It catches you so off guard that you spill your drink again. This time, only over your own shirt, but you cannot bring yourself to look at the mess. Your eyes are on Sukuna, watching wide-eyed as he walks toward you, brushing past the girl you thought he would look at without so much as sparing a glance at her.
He looks amused when he takes in the mess on your shirt. A raised eyebrow, a boyish grin lifting the corners of his lips, a long tattooed finger pointing at your chest,
"Need one of my shirts again?"
You are back in his room a few minutes later, changing into one of his clean shirts while he has his back turned to you, making your heart beat so fast that you fear he can hear it thundering in your chest.
He leans against his desk while you sit on his bed, finding it hard to breathe with how nervous you are. With how lovesick you are for him. The longing to hold him so bad that you feel dizzy from it.
And he talks to you, tells you about a new recipe he tried, about a cooking show he watched, about this and that. Like he wants to keep you here in his room. Like he wants a reason to stay here and not go out to the party again. Like you are his escape.
His shirt feels soft on your skin, his bed so tempting under you. You grab a small pillow to hug to your chest, and the butterflies flutter like crazy when you smell Sukuna's cologne wafting off it.
He jokingly asks you,
"Did you spill your drink intentionally so you could get one of my shirts again? Liked it so much, huh?"
And you chuckle and tell him,
"Well, the end justifies the means. That shirt you gave me last time was really comfy. I slept in it a whole week."
You feel your face heat up when you realize what you just admitted. But Sukuna just laughs, and those beautiful maroon eyes sparkle like two precious jewels.
He tells you to keep his shirt this time.
"So you have something to sleep in."
And your voice wavers nervously, but you still tell him:
"You are really nice, Sukuna. Do you know that?"
He scrunches his nose at that,
"That's something I've never heard anyone tell me before. Are you sure you got the right Sukuna?"
"Yeah. In my eyes, you are nice. At least when you want to. You give me your shirts, and you let me try your self-cooked meals, and you hold open doors and talk to me and... make me feel less alone on these parties."
The last part comes out in a whisper, your emotions threatening to choke you up as you are overcome by your feelings for him. Being so close to him, spending time with him, seeing him smile and joke around with you. Sharing those moments with him that seem like something special.
Sukuna's eyes widen, an emotion flickering over his face that you cannot place. Surprise, maybe, but also something else. Something much softer. He looks away for a moment, staring at his wall that is adorned with pictures of pretty landscapes and bright red shrines and an old man standing in the middle of two pink-haired boys.
When he looks at you again, there is a vulnerability in his eyes you have never seen before. His voice is soft when he tells you,
"You make me feel less alone, too."
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Sukuna kisses you for the first time at a party two weeks later. And it is not a kiss in the middle of the party. It is not a kiss in front of his brother and his girlfriend. It is not a kiss meant for someone else. It is not a kiss to make someone jealous. It is not a kiss only for the show.
No, it is a kiss that is real. In his room, where he sits next to you on his bed. It is soft and slow. Sukuna's hand is cupping your cheek gently, his lips brushing over yours slowly as if he is scared to hurt you or hurt himself. As if he is scared that he is fucking things up. Or maybe as if he fears he doesn't deserve this.
It's a kiss that makes you fall apart and makes you whole at the same time.
You kiss him back as tenderly as he kisses you. Slow and gentle, your eyes closed, your hand landing on his neck and caressing the short stubble of his undercut. You kiss him like you are writing poetry for him with your lips against his, putting all the words you are too shy to say into this kiss, all your longing for him, all the tenderness you feel for him, all your love. And he kisses you like he is a drowning man who finally reached the saving shore.
You walk out of his room side by side. Sukuna holds your hand, tugging you along to the kitchen to cook another homemade meal he wants to share with you.
Your heart feels like bursting with happiness. No traces of pain are left in Sukuna's eyes when he hands you a plate of stir-fried rice. And that smile is lighting up his face again. He is so beautiful, and you tell him so without worrying that he will make fun of you.
He kisses you again when he walks you to the door, right there in the hallway where anyone can see, his lips lingering against yours before he pulls away as if he doesn't want to let you leave.
You smile at him and nod when he tells you to text him once you are safely home.
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"I like you."
Sukuna tells you in a soft voice while you are straddling his lap, currently cleaning some food experiment gone wrong off his tattooed face with a wet kitchen towel.
Wide, terrified maroon eyes look at you as if their owner thinks he just handed you a knife for you to ram into his chest and twist in his heart. It makes your own heart throb painfully even as you feel elated to hear that your feelings are reciprocated. Seeing this rough boy so scared. Scared of his feelings, scared of admitting them. Scared what you will do with that confession. Because all he knows about love is that it is painful and that it hurts and never gets returned.
You want to cry for him. For the boy who, until now, only knew meaningless sex and hopeless longing for what he thought he couldn't have. For the boy who believed that love wasn't meant for someone like him.
The first tear slips out of the corner of your left eye as Sukuna's large hands sprawl over your waist possessively, and he repeats his words despite the fear so evident in his low voice, the words nothing more than a hoarse whisper,
"I like you so fucking much."
Your hand with the towel is hovering in midair, your lips twitch, and finally, you cannot hold back anymore, and the tears spill over, running down your cheeks in hot rivulets. A broken sob falls from your lips, followed by a choked-up sounding:
"I like you too."
Sukuna closes his eyes for a moment, long black lashes fanning over his skin, a beautiful image that makes you drop the kitchen towel and cup his cheek with your hand. Your thumb brushes tenderly over the tattooed lines on his skin when those beautiful eyes open again and look deeply into yours.
He is braver than you are. Adding more to his confession. Making sure you can destroy him fully, if you like,
"Do you know what I mean? I.. I think I am in love with you."
"Sukuna..."
Your voice is thick with tears, but you continue despite the fresh tears welling up in your eyes, despite how much you are trembling in his arms,
"I... I am in love with you, too. Have been for months. Or maybe I was in love with an idea of you back then. But now I know the real you, and I fell even deeper in love with you."
You can see in his eyes that he half expected to get turned down, and it breaks your heart for him, even while happy laughter bubbles out of your trembling lips.
You cling to him when he kisses you, never wanting to let go again. Filled with the need to show him that this love won't hurt. That it won't slip through his fingers. That love can be good and safe and give him peace. That he deserves love, too, and that you are here to love him with everything you have.
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It's another Saturday, and you are at Sukuna and Yuuji's apartment two hours before the party starts, helping them with the preparations. Yuuji's girlfriend is there too. You feel a bit awkward, a bit uneasy when you see her. But she smiles a genuine smile at you and greets you with a hug.
You work next to her for an hour and realize that she probably never was aware of Sukuna's feelings. She might look at Sukuna, but she doesn't truly see him. She only sees Yuuji. Her gaze is filled with love when she looks at him with an expression on her face that lets you know she has found her person.
You turn around to glance at Sukuna, a mix of fear and hope in your heart. What you see makes your chest fill with warmth. Sukuna isn't looking at Yuuji's girl. He is looking at you. Looking at you with the same expression as Yuuji's girlfriend when she looks at Yuuji. And you know that Sukuna has found his person, too. 
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You wake up in Sukuna's bed with his tall, firm body behind you, just like you do almost every morning now. You feel his lips against your skin, trailing gentle kisses up and down your neck. His voice is still hoarse from sleeping when he murmurs,
"Mine."
His arms tighten around you and pull you even closer to him. And you answer with a smile audible in your voice,
"All yours."
Your cheeks almost hurt from smiling so broadly when you feel Sukuna's matching smile against your neck and hear his whispered:
"Just like I am all yours."
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I cried so much while writing this and listening to the song and looking at the beautiful fanart and the sadness in Sukuna's eyes. This version of Sukuna is my Achilles heel. I love this broken mess of a boy so much. I want to love him so bad and make him happy :(( This story hit me so hard, and the kissing scene is one of my favorite scenes I ever wrote. I am so emotional right now, but also so happy to share it with you.
Thank you so much to everyone who commented on the first part of this story, wishing for a happy end. I needed a happy end too, and I am so glad I wrote this!! This story is very personal. I could relate to Reader 100%, and I got the impression that a lot of people could see themselves in her, too. So I hope you could enjoy your happy end with Sukuna, just like I did 🖤
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obsessivevoidkitten · 10 months
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How The Elf Saved Christmas
Yandere Rudolph The Red-Nosed Deertaur x Gender Neutral Elf Reader CW: Painful Noncon, nonhuman genitalia, size difference, possessive behavior, possessive sex, jealous behavior, general yandere behavior, rut cycle, reader fucked big stupid, overstimulation, cum as lube, mention of musk Word Count: 1.3k (This is your Christmas gift from me, I hope you enjoy it <3)
It was one of the earliest years since the start of the Christmas holiday. Rudolph had just recently joined the other deertaurs that drew Santa's sleigh. Not only did he have the magic ability to fly like the others, but he also could produce a fog and snow dispelling light from his nose. He was perfect to lead the sleigh.
Well... almost perfect.
A week into December, he started acting out. Behaving aggressively towards the other deertaurs, secluding himself, and acting unusually possessive over the elf who had been assigned as his servant.
That was you. You brought him his meals and made sure he was comfortable. Normally Rudolph was very low maintenance and your job was exceedingly easy. He was always considerate of you and treated you very kindly.
But lately, Rudolph wouldn't let you out of his sight. And snapped at anyone who got near you, especially if you happened to walk by another deertaur. One time, he even looked as if he was about to stab at Blitzen with his antlers.
The reindeer even looked different. His normally kind brown eyes were more frenzied and dilated. The normally straight, soft, brown hair of his human half was unkempt. And his muscular human body was always tense.
The other deer-men knew what was going on. But it wasn't like they could get near you to tell you.
Rudolph was in rut.
And he had determined, subconsciously, that you were going to be his mate.
The other deer hybrids had gone to Santa and apprised him of the situation, but he chose to do nothing about it. Forcefully taking away a rutting deer's love interest could get very dangerous.
Besides, Christmas was fast approaching, and the fastest way out of rut was for Rudolph to satisfy his urges. And really, what was the comfort of one elf compared to the enormity of the holiday? Christmas was at stake.
In your employee contract, you had agreed to uphold the sanctity of the holiday and do everything in your power to keep Christmas safe and running smoothly. If that meant you had to be a cocksleeve for a deertaur to keep his head clear so he could guide the sleigh, then so be it.
But even Rudolph didn't know why he was so irritable or why he was so odd in his behavior towards you. Why the thought of you being near someone else or out of his side filled him with rage and anxiety.
You were completely distressed. Your boss was acting so differently towards you. You couldn't even return to your little hut. Normally, you would be dismissed at nights but Rudolph wouldn't let you leave.
Instead, you were made to sleep in his house and on his soft, low to the ground bedding.
One morning, about a week away from Christmas, you both learned why he was behaving in such an egregious manner.
Rudolph woke up before you did and something about the way you lay sprawled out with your butt up in the air and your pants slightly falling off. You woke something up in him.
All his instincts shouted at him to breed this elf that was presenting themself to him. To claim you as his mate officially.
Careful not to wake you, because he didn't want you to struggle until it was too late, he pulled your red and green pants and candy cane striped underwear down to your knees. Then he proceeded to lower himself over you until he was in position.
You were ripped violently from your dreams as extreme pain rammed through you. Rudolph, now at the height of his rut, had jammed in all in one go and with no prep.
Your tiny elf body squirmed and writhed in confusion and pain, the frantic struggles sending waves of pleasure through his cock which was embedded so well within you.
"Wha-what are you d-doing?" You squeaked out through the pain.
He didn't bother replying.
Rudolph's body was all you could see above you as his strong thrusts moved you back and forth below him.
The act was raw, instinctive, and possessive. Like your personhood was being fucked away by this being much larger than you until you were reduced to his property.
Screams for help barely escaped your body. They went unanswered. Even if someone had heard you Santa would have told them to steer clear.
You cried and sobbed, powerless to remove the brute who was raping you. Though it seemed he finally had noticed the cries of his partner through his rut.
He slowed down his pace, just a bit.
Snow elves were small but extremely resilient and adaptable. That fact, combined with a slightly slower rhythm allowed you to feel a bit of pleasure as your body adjusted.
"Fuck! You feel so tight! You're just so small~ Gotta fill you with cum. Gotta breed. Gotta breed. Gotta breed..."
You whimpered as the deer man lost himself in his carnal desire to fuck you silly.
He slowed down as he came in you, and you thought you could relax. You went limp, but before you could catch your breath he started pounding into you with renewed vigor, roughly pounding you into the bedding.
Cum leaked down your thighs as his heavy balls smacked you. The smell of his musk filled the air and made you a slight bit dizzy.
The seed from the first round of breeding had lubricated you nicely, and he slid in and out of you in a much more pleasurable manner.
"You take me so fucking well!"
Your crying and sobbing gradually turned into gasps and shudders of pleasure as over the course of the next several hours you came over and over until you couldn't react anymore.
You just lay there and take, completely senseless and overstimulated. Weeping not from pain but from the sensations of seemingly endless mating.
Finally he came in you hard and left himself in a while before pulling out completely. His dick left you with a lewd squelch as at least a gallon of semen dripped from your well worn hole.
For the first time in weeks he finally felt somewhat clear headed.
"Gosh, I'm so sorry."
Rudolph picked you up, cleaned you, and fed you. You were too tired to protest.
The deertaur was remarkably tender for someone who had just taken you against your will, treating you like a snowflake that would vanish under the slightest mistreatment.
It was odd being served by him for a change. But you were too out of it to really give it much thought.
"I'm sorry I wasn't more gentle. But I'm not sorry that you're my mate now."
He was still in rut, and every single day leading up to Christmas Eve, he made you endure an hours long breeding session. You smelled just like him. As if his scent was ingrained in you at a cellular level.
Luckily, his rut ended just in time for him to be able to complete his job, guiding the sleigh without a hitch.
You tried to escape while he was out with Santa, but the higher up elves informed you that you had a new assignment.
You had to live with Rudolph permanently to make sure he never got wild again. His partner had to live with him. If they took you from him now, even outside of rut, he'd go insane. And he performed a very important task by leading the sleigh.
You should have felt honored. Not many elves got to personally save Christmas.
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Note
Have you ever written about an amnesiac werewolf? Like the reader finds a poor lost soul in the forest and takes them in, unknowingly dooming herself to becoming a breeding pet when the moon strikes and his instincts take over? He doesn't know what's come over him. He really doesn't. :'(
TW: car accidents. dubcon. do i know anything about hospitals? no. shhh. enjoy the werewolf porn.
You've grown quite attached to John Doe. He came in three days ago, he'd been "found" naked wandering a forest road at night and gotten cleaned out by a driver in a pickup truck. The driver said he thought he hit a dog or a deer that had wandered onto the road and was horrified to see a man there instead lying bloody on the asphalt.
Despite how bad John Doe looked when he was wheeled into your clinic, he'd been recovering quite nicely. He was even conscious now although he didn't seem to remember anything from before the accident. That coupled with the fact that he was found naked in the woods, it was proving difficult to contact any friends or family who might be able to give a concrete identity.
You weren't too worried though. It was a small community, and you were sure someone who knew him would turn up eventually. As for you, this was a slow time of year for a humble trauma center doctor, you were able to spend lots of time with your favorite amnesiac. It was a little miraculous really how well he was recovering everything but his memory. If you didn't know any better you'd say it was supernatural.
You found yourself spending more and more time with your John Doe, he was sweet and funny, Not to mention he was very attractive, even bloody and bruised. Although the budding warmth you felt for him was tainted slightly both by the fact that he was your patient and the nagging worry in the back of your head that this wasn't the real him. This could all be a false personality that he would lose once he got his memories back.
You'd already started toying with a daydream where once recovered John Doe would still come by to visit you. You shake your head and try to dispel those fantasies from your mind. You mentally chided yourself, you weren't a teenager with a crush you should be handling yourself more professionally than this. Still, your heart raced when he smiled at you.
In the end, it wasn't a friend or family member who revealed who John Doe really was, but it was the summer rain. You were just about to leave for the night when you started getting phone calls. A bad storm was coming in and soon it wouldn't be safe to drive on the largely dirt roads in this town, no one would be coming up to fill in the night shift. You could make it home safe if you left now. But that would mean abandoning your patient and you couldn't do that. So instead you just sighed and hunkered down preparing to wait out the storm inside the hospital.
John Doe was more than happy to have your company- he liked you better than any of the overnight team anyway, and over the past day he'd begun to feel strange. Not in pain just energized in a usual way. there was a tingling sensation just below his skin, he felt hungry but not for food. He couldn't really put a name to the strange pressure in his body, he only knew that it was growing and it made him want to keep you close.
You were in the break room when it happened. You were trying to figure something out for dinner which was hard with only vending machine options available when lightning strikes and the lights die. you hesitate, waiting for backup generators but only the red EXIT lights stay on, casting an eerie red glow to the room. You were just starting to pull open cabinets looking for a flashlight when you heard a loud crash and what sounded like an animal growl. Your heart stops and before you can think you're running toward the sound relying on muscle memory to navigate the darkened halls.
You freeze seeing the hulking form of a wolf over the tipped-over bed of John Doe. How the hell did a wolf get in here? And alone. Even panicked you know something isn't right. Wolves don't come this close to humans, they don't attack humans and they never ever do it alone. Then the wolf looks at you and stands on its hind legs and you realize it's not a wolf but a monster.
Your hands tremble, you should run- call the sheriff- search the lost and found for a gun and shoot the damn thing. But you can't bring yourself to run. The creature in front of you is awe-inspiring despite your fear, you're curious. Then the monster moves and the interest vanishes. Again your body moves before your brain can think you turn and run. You don't look behind as you run but you can hear the beast howl and the solid thud thud thud as it chases after you.
It's a small emergency room, you know there's nowhere to hide unless the werewolf can read and respect "staff only" signs. You feel a large clawed hand wrap around your waist your legs are still kicking trying to run as you're lifted in the air by the monster.
"You took such good care of me...now let me take care of you, sweet mate," the werewolf growls in your ear, turning you to face him, forcing you to look at his hulking monstrous form. You struggle futilely in his grasp he's strong and you can see his muscles bulge under his dark black fur. Lightning strikes again illuminating his sharp white teeth and his bright hungry eyes.
It takes you a moment to catch up to the fact that 1. The werewolf had spoken and 2. That he had promised to "take care of you". Before you can catch your breath let alone ask what that meant he's shoving you down onto the cold linoleum floor, shredding your pants with one clawed hand and the other he presses down hard on your back in between your shoulder blades keeping you pinned to the floor. You can feel his warm breath on your exposed skin as he huffs your scent. you can't see him but you know he's drooling. The attention makes you tremble, and then he pushes his thick rough tongue against your body and you moan. His tongue is thick and wet against your trembling cunt. He can't keep his hands to himself, his clawed hand wraps around your breast squeezing as he pulls you back against his hungry lapping mouth.
You can't keep your moans to yourself. The little cries of pleasure slip from your mouth only making the beast more aggressive as he eats you out. Eventually, you give up trying to even hold back the sounds or pretend that you aren't enjoying the ravishment.
It doesn't take much longer for you to cum, he doesn't pull away when you reach your peak. He pushes his tongue deep inside of you savoring the flavor of your cum and the fact that he had successfully pulled an orgasm from you just like he'd promised. His tail wags as he cleans you up, then you start getting wet again and he's not cleaning you up as much as he is eating you out again. His cock hangs heavy between his legs too big and thick for his erection to lift so it just throbs with need and drips thick beads of precum onto the clean floor.
He can't quite decide what he needs more, to jerk himself off or to keep both his hands on you. Eventually, his own ache can't be ignored and he starts to jerk himself off. it doesn't take long for him to cum the sweet flood of your cum just drives him insane. his knot swells pitifully as his semen splatters against your legs and ass dripping down to your pussy. two of his clawed fingers scoop up some of his spilled seed and push it inside of you.
"Next time I cum tonight it's going to be inside of you." It sounds like a threat, you can't wait.
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frudoo · 2 months
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Mountain Man!Price save me… save me…
Warnings: SMUT. Unprotected PIV, creampie ofc y’all know me. Also mentions of guns + hunting deer. Fem!Reader.
MDNI
“You see that one there?” John’s voice is low but not quite a whisper, using his pinky finger to point out a huge buck a couple hundred yards away from where the two of you are planted on the ground.
“Yeah,” You reply softly, keeping a watchful eye on the creature as it takes a drink of water from the creek.
“That’s who we want. Get a dozen meals offa him, easy,” he responds, pulling back from the scope to look back at you with a grin. “Wanna give it a go?”
Your eyes widen and you laugh softly, shaking your head. When you agreed to join him on his hunt, you were under the impression that you’d be acting as moral support, not as an accessory to… deer murder. You’ll cook the meat all day long, but actually killing the poor thing is a far different story.
“Nope, all yours, sugar,” You huff, glancing back at the big buck who was now feasting on a berry bush.
“C’mon, love, ‘fore we miss him,” John insists, lifting his arm and beckoning you closer with a jerk of his head.
You sigh heavily, scrunching your face as the dangling strands on the sleeve of his ghillie suit tickle you. He readjusts the rifle until the heel rests on your shoulder, gently explaining how to rest your head until your eye meets the scope and you can see through it clearly. Suddenly, the tattoos on his biceps make a lot more sense—what you thought were nonsensical spheres and lines are actually a common perspective for your man.
“Yeah, perfect. Don’t let him outta your sight, I’m just gonna…” John trails off, carefully bringing his arm back down and climbing partially on top of you. “Sorry, darlin’, it’s easier for me to show you this way.”
He positions your hand around the grip and your pointer finger on the trigger, then switches off the safety. Once he’s ensured that everything is properly structured, John rests his chin on your shoulder opposite of where the gun is. Your breath hitches in your throat as you try your hardest to keep your attention on the deer, but it’s hard when your husband’s hot breath is blowing against your face and his weight is pressing into you from above.
You try to get back in the zone by adjusting your body, but only succeed in pushing your ass back against his crotch. The low groan that emits from his throat makes you whimper and repeat the action, earning yourself a tut into your ear.
“Focus, baby, or we don’t eat for the next week,” John warns through gritted teeth, desperately holding himself back from grinding up against you.
Biting your lip, you allow your eye to focus on the deer once again, watching him strut to the next bush covered in vibrant red berries. The buck chomps down on a cluster of fruit gracefully, chewing slowly, unaware of the bullet you plan to shoot right into his heart. You suck in a deep breath, slowly start to press down on the trigger, but before you get the chance to fire, a pair of familiar lips attach to your neck hungrily. Your fingers clench out of instinct and the rifle goes off, but instead of hitting its target it buries itself somewhere in the dirt while the buck sprints away to safety.
Gasping, you drop the gun and push it away from you, turning your head back to look at John with furrowed eyebrows. His face is flushed beneath the streaks of green and black paint he had you smear across his skin, eyes wild with the telltale glint of lust.
“John, I had him! Why-”
“Fuck the deer,” He growls, no longer attempting to push down his desires and instead covering your body entirely with his own. “Got my own pretty, wide-eyed doe right here.”
John grasps your throat and tilts your head back so that his mouth can hastily smash against yours. His tongue shoves its way past your lips, tasting your shock, devouring the unspoken questions that dissolved before they got the chance to slip out. You don’t hesitate to kiss back, eyelids falling shut as his big hands glide between your body and the dewy grass to fumble with your cargos. The button snaps a little harsher than it should and you already know you’re gonna need to sew a new one on when you get back to the cabin.
“Fuck, your cunt’s already so damn wet,” John exhales heavily as he pulls your pants and knickers down just past your hips, exposing your ass and the glistening slick that’s collected between your thighs. “My cock’s just gonna slip right in.”
You whine at that, arching your back in invitation. John hisses and smacks one of your asscheeks hard enough to sting his palm. He chuckles at the little squeal you let out before sitting up on his knees and shoving down the pants of his ghillie suit just enough to expose his dick. It’s already throbbing, fully erect and dripping pearls of precum onto your raw skin. He glides the engorged tip through your warm folds before sliding home in one deep thrust.
The two of you shudder in sync as he bottoms out, hitting the barrier of your cervix with a blissful, dull pinch. John wraps one arm around your neck, allowing you to rest your head on his bicep as he holds himself up with his opposite elbow.
“Fuckin’ deep, ain’t it?” He grunts, punctuating each word with a strong pump of his hips.
“So deep,” you confirm with a gurgle, cheeks completely squashed between the fat and muscle of his bicep and forearm. “Feels so good, John.”
“I know it does, my sweet doe.”
Every thrust is devastating, the veins and ridges of his fat cock rubbing perfectly against the sensitive walls of your tight pussy. Raspy groans fall from his lips and echo into your ear as he nibbles on the lobe, the sound of skin on skin ricocheting throughout the busy woods along with your pretty moans. The head of his dick punches against that rough spot that makes you scream, and he chuckles, angling his hips so that he can make you see stars over and over again.
“That’s right, love, scream for me. Let the fuckin’ mockingbirds hear you, so every single soul that comes through here knows how pretty you sound when I make you cum. Yeah, just like that, baby, sing for me, sing for the birds.”
His words encourage you to obey, your cunt clamping down on him like it’s trying to keep his cock inside permanently. Rivulets of slick cream cling to every inch of his dick as he buries his face in your neck, uncaring of how the strands of his ghillie suit brush against your skin, overwhelming your senses. With a final thrust, he pushes himself deep and releases his potent load into your willing womb, spurts of his seed painting your walls an off-white.
Once the two of you have calmed down, breathing evening out, John gently pulls out and shimmies your panties and cargos back up your hips, effectively keeping his cum contained. He moves from on top of you and stands, pulling his own pants up and tucking away his spent cock, then throws the rifle over his back. You’re utterly useless, laying on the grass and mumbling something incoherent. Your lover just chuckles and scoops you up into his arms, carrying you back to the cabin, safe, warm and definitely planning to have leftover soup for dinner once again.
(When he returns to the woods the next day for a successful hunt without your distracting presence, he hears an awfully familiar call from a certain bird in one of the trees.)
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yesihaveaobsession · 6 months
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The Bet
Drunk! Alastor x female reader
Summary: The patrons beg alastor to join them on their night out after what seemed like forever he finally agrees, he gets drunk and you lose a bet leaving you having to take care of him and be his personal body guard you do all of it in heels.
Warnings: mentions of drinking, alastor is very flirty when intoxicated and touchy.
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CREDIT: TO ORIGINAL OWNER OF DRAWING
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It was Charlie's idea; she thought it would be a good idea for Alastor to join them in a night of fun beyond the town. She begged and pleaded with the deer demon, and he finally agreed after she said that the activity was a bar. You were quite surprised. Alastor eventually said yes because, sure, he drank his brown liquor, but that wasn't often. But seeing the way his eyes lit up at the word 'bar'... you had thought he would only have a drink or two, say he pleased the Princess, then leave... Oh boy, you were wrong.
Charlie, you, Angel Dust, and the others sat at a table, music filling the air around you all, and each had your own drinks. Everyone was dressed up slightly more than usual, basically a different top. But since Alastor was ALWAYS dressed to impress, he wore his usual pinstripe suit. You wore a nice cocktail dress with heels. You were not dressed to impress; Angel Dust helped you pick out an outfit because you were struggling, and this is what you both agreed on.
Angel, with a mischievous smile, said, "How much you wanna bet that Smiles is gonna get black out drunk?"
"I don't think so," you argued. He always seemed collected and was barely found at the hotel's bar, so what made Angel Dust think that he was going to?
"Wanna bet?" Angel inquired. And you shook on it. You were wrong, VERY WRONG. When the night came to an end, Alastor was on a barstool, slumped over. You cursed at yourself and, frankly, the others for leaving you with the very much drunk deer demon.
"Jesus Al, I wasn't expecting you to handle liquor like a sailor," he looked at you with hooded eyes, his radio-filter seeming to be gone and just a slurry mess. Alastor chuckled softly. "Oh, but isn't it delightful to let loose every once in a while? Besides, I'm rather skilled at handling my liquor, don't you agree?" His smirk was strained slightly.
"You're something," you said, slapping money down on the counter and helping him off the barstool, his tall figure slumped onto you, causing you to let out a squeak as you tried to hold him up without ending up falling to the floor due to your choice in footwear. Once you got a good grip on him and he wrapped his long arm over your shoulder, the two of you slowly and steadily made your way out from the bar.
As the two of you made your way through the horrid streets of Hell, he looked over at you with a mischievous grin and leaned close to your ear, whispering, "You know, my dear, I must say you make quite the striking figure," Alastor remarked. You couldn't help but blush at his words, but you knew he was drunk and all the things he was talking about weren't true, at least some things.
You shook your head to rid of the thoughts and focused on the task at hand. You realized that he was much more vulnerable in his current state of mind, so you paid close attention to your surroundings. After what seemed like FOREVER, you two finally made it back to the hotel; we aren't going to talk about what a struggle that was.
Alastor's eyes remained heavy-lidded, his smile a close-lipped smile as he looked at you. You had him lean up against a wall, to be honest, to give you a break and let yourself recompose before you moved forward. He looked over at you, his grin widening, and he watched your every move, lifting his hand and beckoning softly. You sighed and walked over to him, and he hiccupped in between his breaths. You noticed that his finger trailed down your chest after being left on your cheek for a short while. You grabbed his claw, which was way too big for you, and pulled it away, your face turning red again.
"I've had quite a night, haven't I?" He said, and you only nodded, then wrapped his long arm around and over your shoulder and helped him off the wall; his weight landed on you again, and you let out a huff; he was not light. He let out a giggle, "You know... maybe we should..." You stopped him and said, "No, no, you need sleep. I know you barely sleep, but that's what you need."
Alastor then smiled playfully and moved his claw down to your waist, pulling you closer to him; this new position between you two was not comfy, but he didn't care; you just focused on not taking both of you out. "Alright, alright... I'll behave."
Still leaning heavily on you as you two stumbled into his room, you didn't think much about him not having a bed, so you had a couch in the room, so you plopped him down on it, fixed your dress, ran a hand through your hair, and let out a breath. He grinned up at you, slowly taking you in. You pulled one of his chairs from the other side of the room and dragged it in front of him; his red eyes continued to watch your every move; you soon sat down in front of him and patted your leg for a sign to have him put his shoed foot on your leg; after a few tries of telling him, he does, and his boots were hard to get off.
"Point your foot," you instructed, and he only let out a soft laugh and does point his foot, and you take it off.
"Dear..." He slurred. You didn't answer as you focused on your task. Alastor hiccupped, and that's what got your attention. "My dear, I must admit, tonight has been quite the delightful surprise. Perhaps I shall have to indulge in such outings more often."
"Please don't." You gave a polite smile and pushed off his red suit coat and placed it on a hanger and placed it in his closet, then draped a blanket over him.
"You better be asleep by the time I come back and check on you." You threatened; you couldn't believe this, but he looked adorable. "Yes, ma'am." You then left him to rest.
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flwrstqr · 5 months
Text
FALLING IN LOVE ACCIDENTALLY (OR NOT) (LHS - 이희승)
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SYNOPSIS: babysitting wasn't your dream job that you always wanted. as you start babysitting a new girl, lee jihyeon, you meet her older brother, lee heeseung. You end up getting closer and closer to heeseung and ultimately fall in love amidst the chaos.
pairing: bad boy!heeseung x babysitter!reader
genre: s2l, babysitter au, romance, fluff, angst, medium fic
warning(s): parties, cursing, fighting, mentions death, small grammar errors, crying, some angst scenes, kissing, reader and heeseung has a year age gap
word count: 5k+
AN: guys im back with a medium fic!! lowkey this wasn't really the it vibe as the end i feel like was kind of rushed. so if i made any grammar errors im sorry TT, i finished this writing in like 2-3 days so it was kind of hard so. but liz + hye for helping me think of a climax. i kind of got this idea for a POV on tiktok so help
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AGE 21, THE SUPPOSED GOLDEN YEARS OF LIFE, or so they say. But for you, it's far from golden. Being a babysitter at this age isn't exactly glamorous; it's probably one of the last jobs you'd expect to have.
"Yunah, I'm heading out to my new client's place, okay?" you call out before leaving the door.
"Okay, just be safe!" Yunah shouts back from her room down the hallway. You close the door behind you and hurry out as usual, pulling out your notepad to review your schedule for the day:
8:00 am: Wake up 8:30 am: Go grocery shopping with Moka for breakfast 9:30 am: Have breakfast 9:45 am: Prepare for the new kid 10:30 am: Leave the house 10:45 am: Arrive at the client's house 1:00 pm: Leave the client's house
You quietly close your notepad and mentally rehearse what to say as you settle onto the bus. Upon reaching your stop, you make your way to the house.
The house is painted in soft beige and cream, with a porch ceiling resembling a clear blue sky on a sunny day. A wind chime gently sways, welcoming visitors with its melodic tinkling. You ring the doorbell and wait.
A boy around your age answers, with dark red hair and deer-like features. His ear piercings catch your attention as he regards you with an intense stare.
"Hi, I'm here for Jihyeon. Lee Jihyeon," you say, your words stumbling slightly under his gaze. "I'm her babysitter. YN LN."
"Oh, Jihyeon's upstairs," he replies with a shrug, ushering you inside.
Inside, the entrance feels airy and bright, with a faint scent of coffee lingering in the kitchen. Making your way upstairs, you come to a door adorned with pink letters and heart and flower stickers, reading "LEE JIHYEON." You knock, and a small girl, around six years old, opens the door.
"Hi," she says, her eyes wide as she looks up at you. "Are you a princess here to take me to princess school?"
You chuckle softly. "You can think that if you want. I'm YN. Your new friend," you introduce yourself, crouching down to her eye level.
"Are you here to babysit me?" Jihyeon asks as she lets you enter her room.
"More than babysitting, I'll be your new friend," you reassure her with a smile.
"Really?" Jihyeon's eyes light up. "I've wanted a friend for a while, but I don't have any at school." She quickly covers her mouth, realizing what she's said, and closes the door abruptly.
"Jihyeon?" you raise an eyebrow at her sudden change in demeanor.
"Sorry, my brother doesn't know. If he found out, he might cause trouble at my school," Jihyeon explains, pouting as she joins you.
"Your brother?"
"Yeah, Heeseung," Jihyeon beams, kicking her legs as she sits. "I love him a lot."
You smile at her innocence. "How old is your brother?"
"22!" Jihyeon exclaims. "He's like 16 years older than me, but he's a great brother."
"I see. How about we start playing now?" you suggest, earning an enthusiastic nod from Jihyeon as she jumps up to grab her toys.
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"YN, COME ON! WE’RE GOING TO BE LATE TO YEJI’S PARTY!" Minju exclaims as she peeks into your room. Her mouth slightly drops as she sees your outfit. "Trying on the new dress you got?"
You nodded, turning to her. "Does it look okay? Not too over-the-top?"
Twirling to inspect yourself in the mirror, the knee-length black velvet dress hugged your figure, adorned with delicate black lace and a soft touch.
"You look stunning," Minju beamed, adding the final touch by placing a diamond necklace around your neck.
"Thanks, Minju," you said, pulling her into a hug.
"Anything for you, YN. Now come on, let's go to the party. Yunah is complaining about how long we're taking," Minju laughs, quickly letting go of the embrace before taking your hand and dragging you to the car.
As you get into the car, the six of you start driving to the party, blasting music and enjoying your life. When you arrive, the club is crazy loud. The noise from the DJ speakers vibrates throughout the room, friend groups dancing in circles, and couples making out in the back. Your shoulders tense as you scan the room. You walk over to the bar to get a quick drink before joining the party.
Feeling awkward and out of place, you shuffle around while holding your drink. You glance around and make eye contact with Moka, who is sitting with a group of people. She signals for you to join them, but you shake your head no and excuse yourself to the bathroom. As you wash your hands and return to the party, you come face to face with the one girl you wished you never saw again: Yoonhee, the girl who bullied you in high school for being "poor."
"Oh look, it's YN LN!" she gives a small fake smile. "Didn't expect to see you at Yeji's party tonight."
"What do you want, Yoonhee," you glare.
"Nothing, I'm just giving you a pleasant greeting. Nothing more," she laughs, triggering flashbacks from when you were 17.
"Then get out of my way, Yoonhee," you spat.
"Woah, no need to get so aggressive," she gives a proud smile. "I heard you were babysitting. How's it like to be poor?"
That was your last straw. You grab the nearest drink and throw it at Yoonhee's white dress. Her eyes widen as she sees the purple punch juice on her dress. Her eyes then narrow as she stares at you.
"Do you know how much this cost? This dress cost $5,270. Now you have to pay for that," she says angrily.
"Fuck off, Yoonhee. You're still the same. No wonder you have no friends," you yell before turning around and running out of the nearest exit.
You burst out into tears, knowing you were sober. You walk yourself to the nearest bus station, sobbing silently as you wipe your tears. Each step gets heavier as your heels start to burn and your bare knees and calves shiver from the cold.
“Hey, are you okay?" a voice asks. It's a voice that sounds so familiar. A voice that you swore you heard before. You look up to meet the same boy back at Jihyeon’s house. The boy with those deer-like features and dark red hair, with the same exact piercings.
"You’re the guy from Jihyeon's house," you try to piece his name together as only in your mind was the incident with Yoonhee and you.
"Heeseung, and you are?" he asks, noticing your teary eyes.
"YN," you reply, wiping your tears.
Heeseung then notices how you're shivering from the cold. He takes off his jacket and drapes his jacket over your shoulders
"Here, you can take this. Do you need a ride or anything? Do you have someone picking you up?" he asks.
"Yunah, Moka, and Minju are still there. They're my friends," you sniffle. "But I was walking myself to the bus station."
“Still there?” He raises his eyebrow. 
“At the party,” you mumbled. 
"If you want, I can take you home," Heeseung suggests.
"How do I know you're not a kidnapper," you tease with a pout.
Heeseung laughs softly. "Do you think I am?"
"Maybe," you reply.
"Trust me, I won't. Plus, what's the worst thing I can do?" Heeseung smiles.
"Weird stuff," you say.
"I won't. Where do you live?" he asks.
"Okay, that's a bit off," you reply teasingly.
"Hey..." Heeseung says in a half-joking, half-serious tone.
"Fine, I'll tell you the direction, you drive the car," you respond.
"Oh, who said it was a car?" Heeseung winks as he walks you over to his motorcycle.
Your eyes widen. "A motorcycle? Also, I need a helmet?"
"Wear mine," he grins, handing you his helmet before helping you hop onto the back. You hold him tightly as he starts his engine.
As you clutch onto his leather jacket, he speeds up, and you squeeze your eyes closed, afraid of falling. When you open them again, you admire the midnight sky, feeling the cold breeze hug you warmly. When you arrive back at the dorm, you wave goodnight to Heeseung before he turns around.
"Can I get your number?" he asks.
"Sure," you grin, inserting your number into Heeseung's phone. You wink and then turn around to walk back into your dorm.
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THE DOOR SWINGS OPEN, and Jihyeon's sweet smile welcomes you in. She bounds up with excitement, leading you upstairs to her room.
"Where's your brother, Jihyeon?" you ask, your tone light. You steal a glance at your bag, where Heeseung's neatly folded and laundered jacket rests.
"He's out or something," Jihyeon shrugs, already eager to show off her new toy.
As time flies by, you and Jihyeon play together as usual. She cherishes your time together, and as you help prepare lunch, the two of you chat.
"Jihyeon, are your parents not home?" you inquire, placing the grilled cheese she requested onto a plate.
"They're not here," Jihyeon replies between bites of her sandwich, causing your eyes to widen slightly.
"I see," you murmur softly, tucking a strand of Jihyeon's hair behind her ear as she takes another big bite.
"That's why Heeseung is always out. He's always looking for a babysitter for me because I'm only 6. So, I want you to be my permanent babysitter!" Jihyeon beams, savoring each taste of her grilled cheese.
"I'll always be here for you, Jihyeon," you smile back, admiring her cute expression. "How about after this, we play some fun games?"
"Yes, please!" Jihyeon's face lights up with a huge smile as she takes the last bite of her grilled cheese. You then tidy up with her and quickly take her hand as you step outside to play together.
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"DOES THIS LIP TINT LOOK OKAY?" you inquire of Wonhee, who was browsing through the new makeup offerings at the mall. She looks up, observing the tester product on your hand.
"Hmm, maybe a slightly lighter shade," Wonhee suggests before joining you to explore more makeup options. You pick up another lip tint, testing it out before making your purchase and leaving the store.
"YN?" a voice calls out your name. You glance up to see Heeseung waving at you.
"Oh, Heeseung," you respond with a smile. "Didn’t expect to see you here at the mall."
"My friend works at the café on the first floor, so I thought I'd pay a visit," Heeseung explains. "Are you here alone?"
"No, I'm here with—" you begin, but your voice is interrupted by Wonhee rushing over to you.
"YN! I finally decided to buy the new eyeshadow palette!" Wonhee exclaims, then she notices Heeseung. "Oh, do you know him?"
"Heeseung, Jihyeon’s older brother," you introduce, as Heeseung gives a small wave. "He's a year older than me."
"Hi, nice to meet you," Heeseung says, shaking Wonhee's hand.
"I'm Wonhee, YN's best friend or roommate, well, one of her roommates," Wonhee smiles.
"Nice to meet you," Heeseung replies, before turning back to you. "Well, gotta go so have a good time with your friend, pretty girl." Your eyes widen slightly in surprise at his affectionate nickname as he walks off to the first floor, hands in his pockets.
"God, he's definitely into you, YN!" Wonhee giggles, noting your shocked expression.
"Shut up, Wonhee!" you exclaim.
"Just saying!" Wonhee laughs.
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A COUPLE OF WEEKS HAD PASSED SINCE YOU FIRST MET HEESEUNG, but it was that one night that really caught your attention. After a long day of babysitting, you decided to take a leisurely stroll around the park before heading back to your dorm.
The night was tranquil, nearly 9 pm, and the crisp air refreshed you as you walked. As you approached your usual alleyway, the sound of punches and kicks pierced the calm. Your heart raced with nervousness as you wondered what was happening. Was it a hallucination, or...?
Turning the corner, you were shocked to see Heeseung amidst a group of boys. Quickly, you ducked behind a wall, watching in disbelief. Why was he in a fight?
Straining to hear their conversation, you caught Heeseung shouting, "You owe me $1,000. I won the bet," just before another punch landed on his face. Your heart sank at the sight of his swollen lips and bruised eye.
"Who cares about the bet? You messed with us, you’re dead," a boy sneered, delivering another blow.
"Leave him alone!" you finally mustered the courage to intervene, emerging from your hiding spot.
The boy mocked, "Oh look, is it your girlfriend, Heeseung? If you’re a stray cat trying to get your boyfriend out of trouble, you're out of luck."
In a burst of anger, you threw your purse at the boy, sending him tumbling to the ground. Another boy's eyes widened in shock as he witnessed the scene.
"What did you say?" you demanded, your eyes narrowing.
As the tension escalated, you kicked the taunting boy hard in the legs, causing him to yelp in pain.
"Want to say that again?" you glared. "Fuck off and find something better to do with your time."
The boy slowly looking a bit scared quickly ran off through the alleyways as his friends tagged along with him. 
“So…” you began tentatively, noticing Heeseung’s bleeding lip.
“Sorry for all of that,” Heeseung apologized sincerely.
“Let's talk later. For now, let's get you patched up,” you replied, swiftly leading him to the nearby convenience store to grab a first aid kit.
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"HOW DID YOU EVEN END UP IN THAT FIGHT?" you inquire as the two of you settle in at the park. You pull out a tube of scar gel, uncapping it and listening intently as Heeseung explains.
"Well, I made a bet for $1,000 and won, so I got dragged into the whole brawl," Heeseung shrugs. "It's just the usual."
"Usual?" your eyebrow raises as you first cleanse the scar with an alcohol wipe.
"Ouch, that stings," Heeseung winces as you then pat it dry with a tissue. "Yeah, it's kind of normal for me... ouch."
"Then maybe you shouldn't do it; it's dangerous," you respond, leaning in closer to apply the medicine. Heeseung's heart thumps as he watches you approach. You can feel his breath against your skin, and his cheeks flush as your fingers touch his skin. Why does his stomach feel like it's doing somersaults?
You affix a small bandage as a finishing touch. "There."
"Thanks," Heeseung smiles. "So, where were you?"
"Babysitting for another kid today," you shrug, quickly disposing of the bandage wrapper and tidying up your first aid kit.
"I see," Heeseung replies, helping you clean up. "I can walk you home if you want?"
"I'll walk," you smile.
"I could walk with you part of the way," Heeseung suggests, falling into step beside you. You both gaze at the glimmering stars, admiring them from afar.
"You know," you start, "Jihyeon mentioned something about your parents."
Heeseung's gaze drops as he stares at the ground, his smile fading slightly. He looks at you. "She did?"
You nod, meeting Heeseung's eyes. "If you're comfortable sharing, what happened?"
"Well..." Heeseung pauses, contemplating for a moment before continuing. "My parents died in a car crash. They were returning from a movie, and they never really got to say goodbye to us. I guess my biggest regret was not saying goodbye before they left. I was just being stubborn and angry because they scolded me for getting a bad grade."
You listen attentively. "I'm sorry to hear that."
"It's okay. It's all in the past now. It happened about five years ago, and I barely remember it," Heeseung shrugs.
"I hope things have gotten better since then," you smile.
"Thanks, YN," he gives you a grateful look.
"Anyway, thanks for walking me. Hopefully, we can talk again later," you wave goodbye before heading towards your apartment building.
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"YN, COULE YOU PLEASE JOIN ME FOR A DRESS-UP TEA PARTY?" Jihyeon pleads with a cute pout, coaxing you into her playful scheme.
"Alright, fine…" you reluctantly agree, watching as Jihyeon's face lit up with a wide smile before she hurriedly led you to her room to fetch tiaras and dresses.
"This dress is from Mommy's room, so you can wear it," Jihyeon grin mischievously, confessing how she got it without her brother's knowledge. You examine the dress—a simple white garment with puffy sleeves adorned with intricate lace, reaching knee-length.
After changing in the bathroom, you admire your reflection in the mirror. Surprisingly, the dress fit perfectly, accentuating your features.
Emerging from the bathroom, you found Jihyeon holding two tiaras, dressed in her own fancy pink attire. She hands you a tiara, her eyes sparkling with excitement as she helps you place it on your head.
"Let's go! It's tea party time!" she exclaims, leading you to the dining table where she arranged fake tea cups. Pouring imaginary "tea" into your cup, you play along, enjoying the moment.
Unbeknownst to you, a pair of eyes observed from the doorway. "A tea party without me?" a teasing voice remark, revealing Heeseung, in his usual leather jacket and jeans, his smile widening as he saw you. His gaze linger on you appreciatively, taking in the sight of the borrowed dress.
"Heeseung!" Jihyeon exclaims, rushing into his arms.
"How are you, Jihyeon?" Heeseung greets, lifting her up gently.
"Why are you home so early?" Jihyeon inquire.
"Just needed to grab something upstairs," Heeseung replies with a grin. "Could you fetch my phone and wallet, Jihyeon? I need to chat with YN."
"Sure!" Jihyeon agreeing, scampering off to fulfill his request.
"YN…" Heeseung's gaze softened as he admires your appearance in the dress. "You look beautiful."
"I hope it's not inappropriate or disrespectful cause Jihyeon let me borrow it…" you began, but Heeseung quickly reassuring you.
"No, it's fine. You should keep it. It suits you really well," he insisted 
"Are you sure?" you ask hesitantly.
"Absolutely," Heeseung affirm, his smile unwavering. "By the way, are you free next Friday evening? Jihyeon will be with her aunt, and I thought maybe we could grab dinner together."
"Ah, is someone asking me out?" you tease, accepting his invitation with a smile.
Heeseung chuckles. "Guilty as charged. See you next Friday then. Feel free to continue your tea party," he added with a wink as you playfully rolled your eyes. Jihyeon returned with Heeseung's belongings, bidding him farewell as he left the house once more.
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"WHY AM I SO NERVOUS…" you whisper to yourself in the bathroom before a ding dong at the door interrupts your thoughts. "I'LL GET IT!" you shout, hastily opening the door to find Heeseung standing there, clad in a white blouse with the first two buttons undone and black pants.
"I hope I’m not too early?" Heeseung grins.
"Perfect timing," you reply with a small smile. "I'LL BE BACK SOON!" you call out to your friends before exiting the house.
Outside, Heeseung's motorcycle awaits, and you sit on it, securing your helmet as he starts the engine. Arriving at the restaurant, he assists you off the bike, taking your hand and leading you inside. As you settle at a table, you quickly peruse the menu and place your order, leaving time for conversation.
"I noticed something unique about Jihyeon," you begin. "Unlike most kids who prioritize toys, she seems more…mature, especially in her care for you."
"Hm?" Heeseung looks intrigued.
"She's genuinely thoughtful and responsible, almost like she was raised exceptionally well," you add, earning a nod from Heeseung.
"You also strike me as a great brother," you compliment, noticing a faint blush on Heeseung's cheeks as he looks away, taking a sip of water to compose himself.
"Thanks," he responds, attempting to maintain his composure.
As the conversation flows, your food arrives, and after enjoying the meal, you take a leisurely stroll, chatting along the way.
"Yunah is more of a 'clumsy older sister' than an organized one," you remark.
"I could gather that from your stories," Heeseung chuckles, then pauses, "Your shoes... they're untied." He bends down to quickly tie your shoelaces, and inexplicably, your heart begins to race. Why the sudden flutter in your stomach?
"T-thanks," you stutter, "H-how about we head back home now? It's getting late, you know?"
"Yeah, sure," Heeseung nods, masking how he was blushing too.
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YOU LIE IN YOUR BED, STARING AT THE CEILING, thinking of all the times you've spent with Heeseung. All the times you babysat Jihyeon and he would always stop by and wave at you. All the time he would do small things to make your heart thump loudly. All the rides you took on his motorcycle. The scent of his leather jacket when you first met him after the party. All of that was nearly 4-5 months ago. Now here you are, lying down and thinking about Heeseung all night, memories keeping you up until 4 am.
“Do you think I’m in love?” you ask Iroha.
“I think you are,” Iroha responds with a smile. “You always talk about Heeseung, and he treats you really well.”
You pause and ponder Iroha’s words, contemplating what it truly means to you. Were all those butterflies in your stomach a sign of love? What even is love?You gaze out the window, reflecting for the last time. Now you realize it, Iroha was right. You are truly deeply in love with the one and only Lee Heeseung
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“YN, YOU’RE ZONING OUT AGAIN.” Jihyeon pouts as you gaze out the window for the fourth time. 
“Sorry, Jihyeon. Where were we in the play?” you try to give a small smile that hopefully Jihyeon would forgive. 
“We were where the prince confessed to the princess!” Jihyeon exclaims. 
Confess. The word pops up in the brain as you try to gain your focus back, “Right.” You whisper before then zoning out again. God, why was Heeseung taking your whole mind? 
You quickly snap back to reality, “Sorry—so basically the princess confesses to the prince of how much she loves him. How much she makes her get butterflies in her stomach. The way he gives her jacket and talks to her all the time..” You continue on as your mind is only about Heeseung. All the stuff you were saying perfectly described him. 
“You know this kind of sounds like my brother,” Jihyeon says, as she plays with her dolls. 
“Huh?” you look up from talking. 
“Is it?” Jihyeon asks. 
“Uhm..” you hesitate. 
“It is.” Jihyeon replies, reading your expression, “it’s okay cause I have my mouth shut.” She grabs her fingers and pretends to zip her mouth close as you laugh at her cuteness. But she wasn’t wrong, everything you said was about Heeseung. Everything in your mind right now was Heeseung.
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YOU AND YUNAH SETTLE INTO A cozy corner at the bustling café, the scent of freshly brewed coffee mingling in the air. Thoughts of Heeseung, the boy who occupies far too much space in your mind, tug at your attention.
"I’m going to the bathroom," you say, forcing a smile as you make your way to the bathroom. Inside the dimly lit space, you take a deep breath, trying to push aside your thoughts. 
But as you stand there, staring at your reflection in the mirror, you can't help but overhear a conversation from the other side of the bathroom.
"Heeseung definitely likes me. Like in Lee Heeseung," a voice boasts confidently. "Remember that one day he kissed me once. He's my type too."
Your heart skips a beat as the words sink in, a wave of shock and betrayal washing over you. Why did you think he likes you? Why did you like him? 
You press a hand to your mouth, trying to stop the sobs that threaten to escape. Tears blur your vision as you struggle to make sense of heartbreak. 
With trembling hands, you splash cold water on your face, trying to compose yourself before facing Yunah again. You can't let her see you like this, can't bear to let her witness the shattered remnants of your heart.
Summoning every ounce of strength you have left, you force yourself to leave the bathroom. Yunah's concerned gaze meets yours, and you offer her a weak smile.
"I'm not feeling well," you say, your voice barely above a whisper. "I think I should go home."
Yunah's brow furrows with worry, and she reaches out to touch your arm. But you pull away gently, offering her a reassuring smile.
"I'll be okay," you lie, the words tasting bitter on your tongue. "I just need some rest."
With a heavy heart, you bid farewell to Yunah and make your escape from the café. Once outside, tears streaming down your cheeks. Sobbing your eyes, you make your way back home with a broken heart. 
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"YN, COME ON. HE’S SUCH A JERK" Wonhee consoles you as she wipes away your tears for what feels like the fifth time this week.
"He completely played me," you sob, feeling the weight of betrayal. "I thought there was something between us, but turns out he's just the brother of a kid I babysit. Why did I even like him?"
"YN…" Moka's voice is gentle as she squeezes your hand, "Please don't talk like that. What if there's a misunderstanding?"
"They mentioned 'Lee Heeseung,' it's obviously him," you sniffle, trying to compose yourself.
"Well, why waste your time on someone who doesn't deserve it?" Minju interjects.
"Minju's got a point," Wonhee agrees, "He's not worth your tears. He's just a player."
"But I can't help it, I think I love him," you admit, feeling torn.
"But Heeseung doesn't strike me as the type to play with someone's feelings like that. He's a good guy," Yunah suggests optimistically. "Maybe there's more to the story that you don't know."
"I don't even know anymore," you murmur, wiping your eyes. "All I know is I can't face anyone for the next week. I might even cancel all my plans. I just can't bear to see him right now."
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HEESEUNG SAT AT HIS DESK, his mind consumed with worry. It had been a week since you abruptly canceled all your plans, and he hadn't heard from you since. His messages were delivered for nearly a week and according to Iroha, you hadn't left your house in days. 
Lost in his thoughts, he barely registered the sound of his bedroom door creaking open. Jihyeon stood in the doorway, her big brown eyes filled with concern.
"Heeseung, are you okay?" she asked softly, her small voice breaking through his anxious mind.
Heeseung forced a smile, trying to hide his emotion, "I'm fine, Jihyeon. Just a little tired."
Jihyeon frowned, unconvinced by his reassurance. "But you've been pacing around your room all day, and you haven't touched your food," she pointed out, her brow furrowing with worry.
Heeseung sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. He couldn't hide anything from Jihyeon; she always saw right through him.
"I'm just worried about someone," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.
Jihyeon's eyes widened with curiosity. "Is it YN?" she asked, her voice filled with innocence.
Heeseung's heart skipped a beat at the mention of your name, and he nodded slowly. "Yes, it's YN. I haven't heard from her in days, and I'm starting to get really worried."
Jihyeon's expression softened, and she took a tentative step forward, placing a comforting hand on his arm. "Don't worry, Heeseung. I'm sure she's okay. Maybe she just needs some time alone."
Heeseung wanted to believe her, but the nagging worry in the back of his mind refused to go away. "Hopefully."
Suddenly, Jihyeon's eyes lit up with excitement, as if she had just remembered something important. "Hey, Heeseung, do you like YN?" she asked, her voice filled with curiosity.
Heeseung's heart skipped a beat at the question, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "I…uh…what makes you ask that?"
Jihyeon shrugged, a mischievous twinkle in her eye. "YN may have told me that you give her butterflies and so many other things"
Heeseung's breath caught in his throat at the revelation, his mind racing with a whirlwind of emotions. You liked him? The realization filled him with a sense of hope he hadn't felt in days.
"I need to go find YN."he said, his voice choking with emotion.
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THE NIGHT HUNG HEAVY WITH SILENCE. Tears streamed down your cheeks; the clock ticked, marking the passing of time as you sat alone in your room.
The sudden creak of the window startled you, and you turned to see Heeseung framed against the moonlit sky. His presence sent a jolt of surprise through you. 
"Heeseung?" you whispered, your voice trembling with a mix of emotions.
Heeseung hesitated for a moment, his eyes searching yours as if trying to find the right words to say. "YN, I…," he started, but his voice faltered as he struggled to find the courage to speak.
"What are you doing here, Heeseung?" you asked, your voice betraying the hurt and confusion.
Heeseung took a step closer, his eyes filled with concern as he noticed the tears staining your cheeks. "YN, what happened? Why are you crying?" he asked, his voice with genuine worry.
You couldn't help but feel a surge of anger at his question,"Why do you care, Heeseung?" you snapped, your voice sharp"After everything that's happened, why do you even bother?"
Heeseung's eyes widened in surprise, his expression a mixture of confusion and concern. "What do you mean, YN? What happened?" he asked.
The anger inside you boiled over, and you couldn't hold back the flood of emotions any longer. "You like another girl," you said, your voice trembling with hurt and anger. "You kissed her,"
Heeseung's face looked puzzled, his eyes with confusion"YN, it's not what you think," he started, but you cut him off.
"Don't even bother, Heeseung," you said, your voice filled with resignation. "I know the truth now. I know that everything you did to me was just to play."
Heeseung's heart shattered at your words, "YN, please, let me explain," he pleaded, his voice desperate. You shake your head no.
"YN, listen to me," he said, his voice barely audible over the sound of your quiet sobs. "Those are all false. I never kissed anyone. I don’t like anyone but…"
You turned to face him, the tears still streaming down your cheeks as you searched his eyes.
“But  you. I like you, YN," Heeseung confessed, "More than I've ever liked anyone before."
Your eyes widened, “What?”
“I like you YN.” Heeseung confessed, before you could process anything 
For a moment, the world fell away around you as he pressed his lips to yours in a sweet kiss. Lips in sync, his hands snaking around your waist. 
But all too soon, the sound of footsteps echoed through the hallway outside your room, and Heeseung pulled away, his eyes wide with panic. "YN, open the door, I brought tea," Yunah's voice called out. He realized that he was about to be caught, and he turned to you. Without a word, he pressed his lips to yours one last time. 
As you stood there, the echo of his words ringing in your ears. He liked you. Heeseung Lee liked you back. 
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THE WARM GLOW OF THE AFTERNOON SUN FILTERED through the curtains, casting a soft light over the cozy living room. You sat beside him on the comfortable couch, next to Heeseung’s side as you watched a movie together.
Jihyeon sat on the floor in front of the TV, completely engrossed in the movie. Every so often, she would glance back at the two of you, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes as she plotted her next adventure.
Heeseung wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer to him as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. "Is the movie good, angel?" he murmured, his voice soft with affection.
You nodded, leaning into his embrace with a contented sigh. "Mhmm, perfect," you replied, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips.
As the movie played on, you found yourself drifting off, the gentle rhythm of Heeseung's heartbeat and the noise of Jihyeon’s laughter. 
When the movie finally came to an end, Jihyeon jumped up from her spot on the floor, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "Can we play a game now?" she asked, bouncing up and down.
Heeseung chuckled at her enthusiasm, ruffling her hair affectionately. "Of course, Jihyeon," he said, shooting you a playful grin. "What do you want to play?"
Jihyeon's face lit up with delight as she rattled off a list of her favorite games, her energy infectious as she dragged the two of you into her world of make-believe. You and Heeseung played along with her antics, laughing and joking as you chased each other around the room, completely lost in the moment.
And as you watched Heeseung and Jihyeon, their laughter filling the air with joy, you knew that you would do anything to protect this precious moment, to hold onto it for as long as you possibly could. 
1K notes · View notes
moonstruckme · 6 months
Note
If you don’t mind what about poly!marauders (emts version) x reader where she hides a injury that’s kinda serious (idk like a cut that’s pretty deep or smth) but she doesn’t think it’s serious, so she tries to hide it from them to not feel like a burden since they are always busy with work. Basically just a mix of emts marauders and casual dominance
Thanks for requesting lovely <3
cw: mention of blood
emt!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.2k words
You’re trying to figure out whether putting your shoe in the washing machine will damage it irrevocably when the bathroom door handle twists. 
You look up like a deer caught in headlights. Sirius’ gaze flits from the shoe in your hand to the bloodstained sock on the floor to your wide-eyed look. 
“Shut the door!” you whisper-yell. He must be reeling, because he actually does it, closing the door with a click and dropping down beside you on the bathroom floor. 
“What’s going on?” he asks. Again, his gaze goes to your once-blue sock, now marred by a dark red stain. “Are you hurt?” 
You see the moment Sirius notices the foot you’re holding, layers of toilet paper wrapped loosely around the arch. His eyes sharpen. 
“Don’t tell James and Remus,” you plead. 
“Are you hurt?” he asks again, sternly now. 
Your lip finds it way beneath your teeth. “Not really,” you say. “It’s not terrible or anything, I just can’t get it to stop bleeding.” 
“That’s not usually a great sign, sweetheart.” Sirius scoots closer, holding out his hands. “Let me see.” 
You know better than to argue, transferring your foot into his lap. He gives you an odd look about the toilet paper before starting to unravel it, the thin material tearing under his rushed handling. Your boyfriend relaxes slightly when the wound is revealed. It’s deceptively small for how much blood seems to come out of it, the cut only a couple of centimeters along the arch of your foot. 
Sirius adjusts his grip, lifting it to the light to see it better, and you try not to look so visibly flustered at the tender way he’s handling you. 
“It’s little, see?” you say. “No need to bother anyone else.” 
He lowers your foot to give you an amused look. “Darling, as much as I love to have our dirty little secrets together,” he says, “you know they’d kill me.” 
“They wouldn’t,” you say, half desperate. “They love you, and I’ll protect you anyway.” 
Sirius’ mouth pinches. He thumbs at your ankle apologetically. “James would have us both flat on our backs in under a minute. Admire your confidence, though.” He sucks in a breath. “Rem, James!” 
The TV shuts off, and then there are footsteps on the stairs. Sirius is impervious to your glare, only picking your foot up again and turning it this way and that to see it better. 
“What?” James calls. You can hear Remus grumbling about how your apartment is hardly large enough to necessitate this much yelling. 
“In here!” Sirius shouts back. 
The door opens a second later, your other two boyfriends crowding the already small bathroom. James is crouched in an instant, setting a hand on Sirius’ shoulder to steady himself. 
“Oh, lovie, what’d you do?” 
You open your mouth to respond, but Sirius says, “Can one of you grab the first aid kit and a pen light? I can’t see if there’s anything still in here.”
“There shouldn’t be,” you say as Remus goes for the kit. “I already took out the glass.” 
Both Sirius and James look up from your foot, eyebrows raised. 
“And what were you doing that you ended up with glass in your foot?” Sirius asks. 
Your shoulders gravitate towards your ears. “Cleaning up the glass that I broke.” 
Remus hums disapprovingly as he passes a pen light to Sirius, who clicks it on, shining it onto your foot. You do your best to pretend this doesn’t make you want to crawl out of your skin. 
“When did that happen?” he asks. 
“This morning.” 
“Sweetheart.” James’ disapproval is evident in his voice. You can’t bring yourself to look up and witness it in his face, too. 
“And why didn’t you say anything when you hurt yourself?” Remus asks. He sits down beside you, eyes on what the other two are doing though you can feel his attention on you. 
“Because I didn’t want to bother you,” you say quietly. 
He tsks, and he doesn’t need to say anything more. It’s plain enough you’re in trouble. 
For a few moments, the silence is thick and hot, torturous, but surprisingly it's Sirius who does you the mercy of putting you out of your misery. 
“It doesn’t look like you’ve got any more glass in here.” He clicks off the pen light, and your hamstrings sigh in relief as he lowers your foot to rest back in his lap. “That’s lucky,” he tells you severely. “You can’t always rely on just picking out the big piece and having that be that.” 
“Stitches?” Remus asks, and you tense. You hadn’t even considered that. 
“I don’t think so,” Sirius says, but he sounds uncertain. “It’s just barely deep enough, though.” 
“Let’s see.” James holds out his hands, and Sirius hands it off to him. You try to ignore the fact that your foot is being passed around like something a child brought to show-and-tell. James takes up the pen light, peering at it for a few moments before nodding decisively. He pats the side of your foot. “I think you should be safe.” 
You must look as relieved as you feel, because James smiles, squeezing up the length of your calf. 
“What I really don’t understand,” he says lightly, “is why the hell you’ve been keeping it wrapped in toilet paper.” 
You can’t help but return his smile sheepishly as you shrug. “It works,” you say. “Plus, Remus gatekeeps the first aid kit.” 
“It’s only in the cabinet above the toilet,” Remus sighs. 
Sirius scoffs, and James reaches across you to pat him on the thigh. “No one can reach it up there but you, love.” 
You look over in time to catch your boyfriend’s eye roll, paired with the smirk he tries to hide. “Regardless,” he says, “it seems as though it wouldn’t be an issue if anyone who can’t reach it,” his eyes slide to yours, and you find new interest in the floor tiles, “would just ask someone else to get it for them, rather than being secretive.” You can feel his gaze searing into the side of your head, but you refuse to look up even when Sirius snickers and pinches your leg meanly. “If you didn’t have the kit, how did you clean it, dove?” 
“It’s clean,” you hedge, but make the mistake of looking up into Sirius’ stern gaze. He cocks an eyebrow as if to say Go on. “I ran it under the tap in the bathtub.” 
Remus sighs, Sirius groans, and James lets his head fall fully forward onto your knee. 
“Sweetheart,” James presses a kiss to your shin, “my love, I know you mean well, but this is why you need to tell us things.” 
“What’s the problem?” you ask as Remus moves to sit by Sirius, opening up the first aid kit. “Water’s just as good.” 
“It’s really not,” Sirius says, “seeing as water doesn’t actually kill bacteria. Do you want to stay where you are or sit up on the counter, darling?” 
“I’ve got a better idea.” James scooches over by you, lifting you by your waist and setting you in his lap. “There. Far more comfortable, don’t you think?” 
“Much.” You grin, turning your head to kiss him. “Thanks, Jamie.” 
“Spent a whole day keeping secrets and still getting the princess treatment.” Sirius’ tone is equal parts teasing and affectionate as he smooths a hand up and down your calf. “We must really love you or something.”
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danveration · 8 months
Text
Sleep well, amour Pt. 2
Parings: Alastor x reader
Summary: After falling asleep to his voice, you wake up and get confronted by Alastor. Later, you walk in on him sleeping.
Word count: 1523
Warnings: Mention of Alastor eating and k*lling a deer
part one
A/N: PART TWO IS HERE!!! I had SO many options wracking my brain on where to take this, but I picked this one! I hope you all enjoy it :’) let me know if you have any feedback, I’d love to hear it. Also, I’m currently working on all the requests I got :) as well as part 2 to that-no-good-first-man-on-earth
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You wake up, blinking and looking around. Momentarily forgetting where you are.
Shit. You fell asleep in Alastor’s recording room. Thankfully, he isn’t here right now.
Before you could get up, you notice a purple blanket on you. It seems to be the one that was on his coat hanger. Did Alastor put this on you..? The thought has you smiling and your cheeks reddening.
Alastor’s voice sure does have an effect on you. You look outside to see what time it is, but remember that it’s Hell and the sky is always the same shade of red. You’re going to have to get used to that.
Getting up, you put the blanket back on the hanger and look around some more. It feels some-what intimate right now to be in his space when he’s not around. You wonder how long you’ve been asleep for.
You walk over to his table and notice a red “play” button on his radio equipment and are tempted to press it. It surely won’t cause any harm to hear what he was talking about when you were asleep. You press it and listen.
“Haha! For any sinner, I know it’s a tempting question. But I-“ The recording fast forwards. “Nevertheless, I find it quite amusing that this technology box thinks he is on any sort of level to me! Call me crazy but the sinners have been taaallkinggg, and they think he sounds quite obsessed.” He laughs, knowing Vox is probably listening.
You smile at his voice and find it funny how he is a bit of a drama queen when it comes to his radio broadcasts. You know deep down he doesn’t actually care about the whole situation with Vox, but it’s still funny how he entertains it.
Looking to your right, you see a mug that has “Oh Deer” written on it. There seems to be a bit of black coffee still left in the mug. The “deer” reference made you giggle. You’ve always wondered about his past and how exactly he is part deer anyhow. Oh well, It’ll reveal itself with time.
You’re looking at all the other buttons on his equipment, wondering what they do, when all of a sudden you hear light footsteps on the other side of the door. It’s most likely Alastor. Nobody would willingly go to his room without permission.
The door opens slowly and in steps Alastor. You notice how he opened the door quietly, to not make make much noise. As he still assumed you were asleep. You smiled at that.
He looks ahead and sees you, immediately smiling. “Ah! My dear. You’re awake!” He claps his hands together, his cane leaning on his side.
“Hey Al. Um.. about what happened I-“ You start.
“Ah, ah! No need to explain yourself, sweetheart! Don’t go giving yourself a headache.” He cuts in and laughs.
He looks down at you and says, “you just find comfort in my voice, don’t you?” He asks, with a smug smile.
Your eyes go wide and you stutter. Of course it wasn’t the most secretive thing. Still, you didn’t think he actually knew.
“U-um. Well..” You say.
He tilts his head to side as if saying, “Go on…”
There’s really no getting out of this. Plus, you don’t think Alastor would actually care. He’d probably just find it funny.
“Yeah, I do.” You admit. “I find comfort in your voice, of course I do! I just.. I don’t know.”
You aren’t sure what to say, it’s a tad embarrassing.
Alastor begins to laugh.
“I certainly could tell! I find it quite amusing if I do say so myself.” He says.
He definitely doesn’t mind it, he has a soft spot for you. But he’s also a bit confused on why you even do. He knows his radio voice is unique, but nobody ever commented on it bringing them comfort. They usually scream and run away when they hear him. You’ve been there long enough to see him kill and do so many things that people describe as “horrible, satanic, terrifying” but you still find comfort in him nevertheless? He thinks it’s absolutely adorable!
“Amusing?” You ask.
He nods and says, “Amusing, darling! I mean.. you know who I am, do you not?” He laughs and continues. “Though you still find comfort.. now that’s an interesting fact, don’t you think?”
You shy away, looking anywhere but him. You’re comfortable around him, of course, but you’re a tiny but embarrassed of this whole situation. You know he is definitely loving his though.
He places a finger on your jaw and guides your head back to look at him.
“Uh, uh, dear. There’s no need to feel shy! I never said it was a bad thing. I’m truly honoured!” He says, smiling down at you.
You and him have been getting to know each other for a while now and you’ve just been going deeply and deeply more interested in him. You almost laugh at yourself because you sometimes act as if you did when you alive, how you obsessed over fictional characters and “fan fiction.”
You look at him and say, “Well, that’s good then.” You chuckle.
“Mm, it is isn’t it?” He says.
He thinks you’re absolutely pathetic, but in a good way. He wouldn’t let anything hurt you, this new sensation is something he never wants to get rid of.
———————————————————————
Later that day, Charlie wanted you to pass a message on to Alastor about the hotel reservations. You knew he was in his room because he mentioned that if you needed him, he’d be in there having some dinner (aka, deer). Which he has in his half room half forest. You really wonder how on earth he even did that. The wonders of being a radio demon!
You’re at his door, lightly knocking. You wait a few seconds but you don’t hear anything from the other side.
“Al?” You question while knocking again.
“Hm.” You think.
You aren’t sure if you should go in or not. Sure, the thing Charlie told you about could wait but you also wanted to make sure he was okay. What if he.. choked or something? You’re sure the radio demon could handle that but you just want to make sure.
“Al, I’m coming in.. okay?” You say while knocking once more.
You slowly twist the knob and push the door open. Peaking in, you see him on the other side of the room, in a chair.
“Alastor, are you alr-“ You stop yourself when you notice his eyes are closed.
Closing the door behind you, you walk up to him.
He’s currently sitting in the chair, his arm on the table and his head resting on his hand. He looks so peaceful. His mouth isn’t smiling and his face just looks so.. relaxed. You’ve never saw him like this before. He mumbles occasionally and his ears twitch every so often as he sleeps. You aren’t sure how he finds this position comfortable, but you smile at it nonetheless.
You don’t want to disturb him so you leave, now relaxed that you know he’s okay.
Right before you grab the knob of the door, you hear, “Y/n?”
You whip your head back and you see him standing up, looking at you with his smile.
“Did you need something, dear?” He asks, as if he wasn’t just dead asleep a second ago.
Of course, it makes sense he is a light sleeper.
“O-oh, no. Charlie just wanted me to tell you that the renovations went well and that the guys who inspect the place will be here tomorrow!” You say. “Sorry if I disturbed you.”
“Ahh, alright! And nonsense! You couldn’t disturb me.” He says.
You look at him and smile.
“You know, you could join me if you want! I was just resting and then going to have some dinner.” He offers.
You perk up but then remember that Husk assigned you a task of picking up crates of whiskey for the bar.
“Shit, sorry. I can’t. I have to go get more alcohol for the bar.” You say with a frown.
“More? If I remember correctly, we just got new shipments in.. last week?” He says with a laugh. “Though I’m not surprised we ran out again. Husker is a busy man. Well, my dear. Some other time, then!”
You notice him looking back into the forest, eyeing a deer.
“Yeah, some other time.” You smile. “Have a good dinner, Alastor!”
He smiles back at you says, “Oh I will.” He chuckles, his radio eyes making an appearance as he looks back the deer.
“You have yourself a lovely day, sweetheart!” He says with a wave.
“You too!” Waving back, you then open the door and leave. Once you leave you hear shrieking on the other side of the door, definitely the deer that Al was eyeing.
You’re excited to have more encounters with him, and even take him up on the dinner offer! You remember him mentioning he wanted to introduce you to his friend, Rosie. You’re looking forward to it.
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wysteria-bloom · 6 months
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⚝ " mine, all mine "
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How do the hazbin boys kiss you
Warnings : I mentioned 'lady' in lucifer's part, but the reader can still be interpreted as whatever gender ya want. Highly suggestive on both Lucifer and Vox's parts.
Genre : Fluff, suggestive
A/n : this account has been doing so well lately and I just want to say thank you so much. I love every single comment you guys send in and the support is so appreciated. You're the reason I get the motivation to write these silly little stories so thank you.
Characters : alastor, Vox, lucifer
▢ alastor ⍋
- Sweet as cream -
"Al, can you pass me the cream?" You asked politely, stirring your coffee absentmindedly. Your eyes didn't lift from your book, too engrossed in the scene that was playing out.
Your boyfriend hummed, currently in the middle of his meal and looked at the cream sitting next to him," I'm not sure, darling. Can I?" He teased out, his ever-present grin stretching mischievously.
You blinked at his response and looked up from your book, raising an eyebrow at him," Well, I would like to think my lovely boyfriend isn't incompetent." You replied bluntly, a sweet tone to your voice as your head tilted to the side.
"Frankly? My wonderful partner is being rather rude at the moment and doesn't seem to be deserving of the cream!" He shot back just as sweetly.
"Oh-hoh? Is that right?" Your eye twitched, smile dropping ever so slightly," Well, perhaps I can show you just how rude I can be when you're banished to the couch, hm?"
"What a card to pull, my dear!" He placed his face in his hands, eyes sparkling with amusement and glee," I must really be pushing your pretty little buttons."
There was a small growl at the back of your throat but you were quick to push it down with a cough, but from Alastor's perked up ears and widening grin, he had heard you.
"Alastor, love of my life, how can I stop you from being a pain in my ass today?" You asked, making sure your tone was light with gentleness despite your foul language.
He let out his typical 'hm', his eyes narrowing in thought as one of his claws tapped his chin,"... A kiss may just suffice."
You blanched at him,"... are you that emotionally chaotic that you have to irritate me to request for a kiss?"
"..." He began to slowly push the cream towards the edge of the table, a challenging glint in his eyes.
His actions basically answered your question, however.
"Oh my-... Okay! Okay." You begrudgingly got up from your seat and walked around the table to your tall deer-man whilst he only watched you with a cute little sparkle in his eyes.
You reached a hand out gently, brushing a knuckle against his cheek before cupping it. The smile couldn't stop from spreading across your lips when you saw him lean into your loving touch. He's come so far where sudden touches are concerned and you've never been more proud.
You leaned down, smile still on your face and you took note of the prideful grin on Alastor's lips as he looked at your lips," Don't look so happy with yourself - you're being a scoundrel, yknow?"
"Oh dear, a scoundrel?" He breathed, pretending to be devastated at the revelation," Whatever can I do to get back into your good graces, my love?"
You leaned down, lips brushing his," Good question..." Your hand fell from his face and you brushed a thumb onto the cream before bringing the white treat to his lips, swiping it across his bottom one,"... Give me what I asked for from the beginning?"
And with that, Alastor closed the gap between you both, lips moulding together perfectly. You hummed into the kiss, cupping his face softly to deepen the kiss, your tongue swiping across his bottom lip to clean the cream off.
At this, the passionate kiss got all the more sweeter. Alastor's hands fell to your hips, kneading the flesh like dough as he focused on the feeling of your soft lips against his.
When you both pulled away for a break, you were left panting against eachothers lips. The red-haired demon smiled widely, eyes lidded," I trust that this has qwelled our little rivalry, hm?"
"I dunno..." you pecked his lips and gave him a teasing grin," You still seem like a scoundrel to me."
Alastor chuckled lowly, "Then let me remind you of how much of a gentleman I can be," dragging you into another sweet kiss.
▢ vox ᯤ
- underlying spice -
"Vox, you're- ah~... You're gonna be fuckin' late idiot," You grunted out as he nipped at your neck, the feeling of his teeth sending literal pulses of electricity through your veins.
He had you caged to his desk, chest pushing against yours. Your bodies were so close together that you could feel a low and pleasurable buzz between you both.
He groaned against your neck," You think I give a shit about meetings when I have you pressed against me like this?" His sharp teeth grazed your skin teasingly, but there was the underlying threat of breaking your skin with them," and you're sooo fuckin' pretty like this too... I'm offended you'd think I'd abandon you in a state like this, babe."
Your hands gripped onto his shirt, giving him a threatening undertone as well," I am not letting you back out of a meeting I've been planning for months just 'cause you wanna get your fucking dick wet." You gritted out, but still not pushing him away.
"You're so bratty today." He pulled from your neck to grin down at you crookedly, an almost lazy tilt to his eyes," only makes me want you more."
"Well, you don't get that privilege dipshit. You need to go. Now." You frowned up at him, tapping his screen with a clawed finger.
"Stop acting like you don't want me to get you off. We both know that's not fuckin' true." He deadpanned.
"I can just go to Val for help." You shrugged absentmindedly," No biggie."
There was a low growl from him as moved his hands to your thighs, lifting you onto his desk suddenly. You yelped from the action and stared on in shock and arousal.
"Stop fucking fighting me on this." He mumbled, leaning in close to your face as his eyes narrowed," as if Val couldn't compare to me- are you fucking shitting me?" He seemed genuinely offended at the notion," You're both power-bottoms, how would that even work?"
"I dunno..." you tried to gain the higher ground by playing with some lint on his suit," I could top, this one time..." you leaned close to his face, an unhinged glint in your eyes," Juuuust to piss. You. Off..."
Suddenly, Vox surged forwards, capturing your lips in his. Almost instantly, his tongue is shoved down your throat, the buzzing of electricity making you moan. You gripped onto his jacket desperately, wanting to deepen the kiss even further but he refused. He set the slow and erotic pace of the kiss, claw digging into your hips to try and control himself. His other hand entangled into your hair, tugging ever so slightly to shove his tongue further into your mouth for more exploration.
Red liquid drooled from his mouth, the same coming from you too as you gasped and moaned into this rough kiss. You could swear the buzzing coming from his tongue was turning your brain into mush, making you forget about your previous grievances and think about him, him, him.
When he pulled from you, trail of red saliva connecting your lips as you panted breathlessly.
"... You're such a whiny fucking baby about everything." You grumbled.
Vox only grinned maniacally, knowing that meant you had given in," and you're easy to push over the edge, baby."
To celebrate his accomplishment of getting out of a meeting to rail you instead, he played an applause sound and people cheering from his screen to really rub it in your face, grin widening at the sight of the twitch of a smile on your lips.
"Oh, shut up!" You laughed out before wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into another kiss.
▢ lucifer morningstar ⚝
- taste of home -
"Hon, I'm happy for you and everything, but isn't this a little bit excessive?" You mumbled out, a look of concern on your face as you watched him run around his office like a headless chicken to find a thin paintbrush.
"Pffft- Whaaat? No!" He waved his hand dismissively and grinned like a madman as he tinkered away at a little duck, hand painting meticulously," this is the perfect birthday present for her!" He then looked at you from over his shoulder, giving you lidded eyes and a charming grin," just trust the process, pretty."
Your heart fluttered at the nickname and you huffed, giving into his wild ideas as usual. His wonderful mind was a force to be reckoned with, and when he has a plan then there's no stopping him.
"You've been painting ducks for the passed three hours, though." You pointed out and walked over to him when his back was turned, wrapping your arms around his shoulders from behind. He didn't even react to your touch, continuing to paint the little ducky like it was his final mission in life.
But he did lean into your touch, however. Maybe he isn't a lost cause after all.
He didn't answer you, but you couldn't help but watch him. His hand moving methodically. You already knew what duck this was going to be, it was almost a perfect replica of Charlie.
But as a duck. Duh.
You smiled softly at the sight of it, watching for a minute or so before you leaned down to his neck, opening your mouth to whisper," Earth to Lou~..." you cooed out gently.
His shoulders tensed and his movements paused, a shiver running down his spine. He bit his lip and then gulped," y-yea-... ahem... yeah?" He could feel his cheeks growing hot at the press of your warm lips to the back of his neck.
"When are you gonna take a break?..." You hummed, trailing your kisses across his neck.
He set the duck down slowly, your affection having a grip on him,"... Now seems like a good time." He hummed back, head tilting to the side to give you more access.
"What a good answer~" you breathed out prasingly, lips sucking a little love bite to the back of his neck which made him moan lowly.
"Y-you're killing me here, beautiful..."
You chuckled," Kind of the idea, hon." Tapping his shoulder, you kissed his cheek," how about you turn around, hm? You can make it up to me with a kiss."
"Make... make it up to you?"
"Make up for ignoring me."
He smirked and turned around in your arms, wrapping his own around your waist, chin resting on your chest as he looked up at you," Oh yeah? My pretty lady wanted attention, huh?" He teased out gently with that heart-warmingly charming grin.
"No no no. You don't get to turn this on me, you tease." You grunted out, brows furrowing as you tapped his forehead.
"And why not?" He challenged, grin never falling.
"... because."
"What groundbreaking reasoning!" He laughed and then pulled you into his lap. A hand trailed up and down your spine lightly, the other moving to pull you closer into him by the waist," If you wanted attention, you could have just said, honey."
"You would have won, then."
"Who says I'm not winning right now?"
You pressed your forehead against his, eyes narrowing," Me."
"... and your word is final, yeah?" His amusement was clear," The King of Hell's word is worthless compared to yours?"
You giggled," correct."
He huffed out a breath of amusement and brought one of your hands to his lips, licking your wrist with a sultry glint to his eyes," Oh, wow... then I guess I really have to step my game up then, eh?"
Watching him with warm cheeks, you nodded with a gentle smile to your lips, "You do."
He brought you close to his face by cupping the back of your neck, pressing a gentle yet passionate kiss to your lips. His tongue immediately licking your bottom lip for permission to enter. You opened your mouth for him, humming lowly in pleasure as your hands ran through his hair.
His lips were warm and soft, they felt like home. The gentleness balanced out with the dominance and sent the perfect shivers throughout your body.
His touch to your back was soothing, claws sliding up and down; drawing patterns, spelling out your name and then his and then drawing a heart around it.
Fuck, he was so cheesy but it only made your love grow more.
2K notes · View notes
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Instacrush
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max verstappen x reader
Content warnings: unprotected sex (p-in-v), rough sex, dirty talk, language, daddy kink, pining, flirting, possessive behavior, one bed trope,...
Word count: almost 7k 
Note: I'm gonna add a smau at the end so keep reading!
My masterlist
The engagement ring on your finger suited you perfectly. It wasn’t overly large or flashy, but the single diamond gave off a subtle, delicate sparkle. It was beautiful and felt just right, symbolizing the love and unity of marriage. When you looked at it in the light, you almost thought you could feel the love Max had for you.
If only that were true.
“Remind me again why we’re doing this?” you asked, sitting down at the table across from Max.
“So we can practice and make sure we seem like a real couple,” he replied.
You sighed, your gaze once again drifting around the hotel room. There was a small sitting area, a dining space connected to a kitchenette, one bathroom, and a bedroom. You had already pointed out the single bed, and Max, ever the professional, reminded you that part of the assignment meant you were expected to share it. After all, this was a couple’s retreat. It wouldn’t have been a problem—if only you didn’t have a crush on him.
If only it were that simple.
You were completely enamoured with Max Verstappen, the handsome three-time F1 World Champion. Instacrush wasn't something you experienced often, so he took you by surprise. It was the first time you met him on your first day at work. You were so caught up looking around the paddock, so excited for your first time ever set foot in the land of speed. You were just an intern working in the social media department. Landing a job during the global economic recession was a dream come true for you, not to mention, working for such a big and top-tier team like Red Bull. And that’s where you bumped into him, his can of Red Bull splashed all over your new team uniform. And honestly, you didn’t remember much since you were busy looking staring at his eyes. The bluest eyes you have ever seen. It was like the water in the ocean in  Maldives that you once saw in some travel magazines. It was pathetic to fall for him so hard and quickly. It had to be some sort of karma or divine intervention that you were with him in a hotel room.
Just the two of you.
“You know,” he began, wetting his lips as he leaned back in his chair. You blinked, only because you didn't want him to call you out on staring. “You don't have to look so miserable to be here. Is my company that terrible?”
“What? No. Max, you aren't a terrible company,” you promised, slumping a bit in your chair. The last thing you wanted to do was upset him. “Just been a bit since I've been in a relationship and I’m kind of rusty,” you said. 
“I’m just not sure I’m the right one for this job,” you added.
“You’re perfect for this job. Why would you think otherwise?”
You froze like a deer in headlights, even as his compliment warmed your heart. It meant a lot that he thought you would do the job well. But how were you supposed to answer that question? That you adored him and it would be torture to pretend to be with him for a few months just to back to being coworkers after?
“We should practice,” you suggested instead of giving him an answer. The backstory wasn't overly elaborate, but you had to get it right.
He leaned forward, forcing you to meet his gaze. “Did someone say something to make you think you wouldn't be good for this assignment?” He asked in a low voice. “Because I'll straighten them out.”
You bit the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from whimpering. The thought of him putting someone in their place to make you feel better was swoon-worthy. “No, Max. No one said anything. You're right. I’m good for this,” you said before you added, “We’re good together.”
You couldn't read the look he gave you and it became more difficult not to squirm under his gaze. “Yeah,” he whispered, leaning back and clearing his throat. “So. We’re engaged. Going to a resort for a much-needed vacation. We’ll have to mingle with some of the guests in between investigating the owner. One of the first questions will be how we met.”
With an exhale, you recited, “We met at the track. Both slammed into each other. Both said sorry at the same time”
“And you gave me your hands for me to get up,” you smiled, making a show out of reaching for the glass on the table. “Our fingers touched first. Our eyes met second.”
“And we immediately befriended at first,” he smiled.
Your heart swelled. He looked like he didn’t have a care in the world when he smiled like that. “We did,” you said, trying to blink the longing from your eyes. “We went on that reserved dinner with the team and talked a bit about ourselves.” 
It was all the truth, except for the fact that you guys were never more than friends since he was with Kelly, and you. Well, you were just you, there’s nothing really special about you for him to like. You aren’t those supermodels he used to date, nor have the skinniest body type, you are chubbier, with red hair and freckles across your cheeks. Before accepting his request to be in a PR relationship with him just so he gets along with the image of not being a notorious playboy who drives a fast car as an occupation, you did ask him WHY YOU? WHY NOT SOME OTHER GIRLS? AND LET’S BE HONEST ANY OTHER GIRLS WHO ARE PRETTIER WOULD DIE TO FILL IN THE JOB, SO WHY YOU? He just stood there looking at you once again with the deepest set of blue eyes that made your knees go weak, We are friends so this is what a friend should do, right? Help each other out. And y/n I really need your helping hands now. 
“Even proposed to you at the same restaurant,” he said, gesturing to your left hand. “But I actually got the ring after our first date because I knew I wanted you to be my girl,” he said with such conviction that you found it hard to breathe.
The way his eyes softened as he gazed at you, you found yourself believing him for a moment. You had to stay rooted in realism though. The point of the mission besides the actual mission was to act as if you two were crazy about each other.
Not that you had to do any acting on your part.
You cleared your throat and pulled your hand back from the glass. “If only that were true,” you said, absentmindedly twisting the ring around your finger. You weren't cynical about love, but this whole thing was a reminder that you were single and alone. 
The silence between you two was deafening, filled only by the sound of your own heart breaking. You longed for his words to be true, for him to truly want you as his girlfriend. But deep down, you knew it was all pretend. Your fingers fidgeted with the ring again, a constant reminder of the lie you were living. The weight of the situation was almost unbearable. 
His brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”
Heat crept up your neck. You shouldn't have said anything. “I mean, what a briliant story you have in mind,” you replied to avoid saying you wanted to be his girl.
“Well, it was true, y/n.” 
You pulled yourself from your thoughts when he said your name, which sounded like it melted on his tongue. It made you press your thighs together. You needed to stay professional. 
“Most of it only, Max. Anyway, enough of that. Let’s move on,”
Max looked unsatisfied with your response, his blue eyes searching your face. He could tell you were deflecting, which was both attractive and frustrating. “Okay then. How about we move on to the next part of our relationship? The first date.” He leaned back in his chair and you mimicked his movement. 
“Ah, our first date,” you said, the memory bringing a smile to your face. “It was a classic dinner-and-a-movie type date, right?”
Max chuckled at your summation of your first date. “Yeah, it was pretty basic, but it was our first date,” he said, his voice low. “I wanted to keep things simple and focus on just the two of us. No fancy restaurants or anything like that.”
You recalled how nervous you were leading up to the date, spending hours trying to figure out what to wear and worrying about what to say. In hindsight, you didn’t need to have been so worried.
“But you looked beautiful that night,” Max continued, a small smile playing on his lips. “You always do.”
You tried to ignore the way your heart quickened at his compliment. How was it that Max Verstappen, F1 World Champion, and certified heartthrob, could say something so casually that made you feel like the most beautiful woman alive? 
“Thanks, Max,” you said, your cheeks starting to heat up. You twisted the ring on your finger, your nervous habit making its appearance. “You looked pretty good yourself, if I remember correctly.”
Max chuckled softly, his eyes fixated on your hand. “Are you nervous, Schatje?” he teased, a playful sparkle in his blue eyes. “You’re fiddling with your ring again.”
Your cheeks flushed even more. You should be used to his teasing by now, especially after the time you two had spent together recently while preparing for this PR mission. And yet, every time he called you darling, your heart would do somersaults in your chest. 
“No, I’m not,” you denied, knowing how unconvincing you sounded. “Just… practicing my part, you know. For the acting thing.”
Max’s eyes darkened slightly as he leaned back in his chair, his fingers drumming on the armrest. He knew that you were avoiding something, but he didn’t push further. Instead, he nodded in agreement. “Yeah, let’s keep going.”
He began to recite the next bit of their cover story. “What’s our favorite couple activity?”
You cleared your throat, trying to ignore the way your heart skipped a beat at the mention of couple activity. "Well," you began, your voice shaky, "our favorite couple activity is definitely cooking together. It's a great way for us to bond and spend quality time together." 
“Well it must be you will be the chef and I’m your assistant then, since I couldn’t even boil an egg to save my life, Liefje.”
Max's self-deprecating comment took you a little by surprise. You were used to seeing him as the confident, world-class athlete on the track, not as a hopeless cook in the kitchen.
You chuckled softly at his admission. "Well, I guess you'll have to stick to being my sous-chef then. I can teach you a thing or two in the kitchen."
Max groaned exaggeratedly. "I suppose I'll have to stick to fetching the ingredients and looking pretty," he joked.
You rolled your eyes playfully at his remark, unable to stop yourself from smiling. "Yes, you can be the pretty one, Max. I'll do all the hard work in the kitchen."
He chuckled, a lopsided smile pulling at his lips. "Well, I guess I should be thankful that I have a gorgeous girl doing all the cooking for me, then."
His compliment left you feeling warm and tingly, but you tried to brush it off and stay focused on the task at hand.
"But you have to promise me one thing, Max," you insisted, trying to maintain your composure. He raised an eyebrow, waiting for your condition. "What's that, Schatje?" he asked, his voice low and smooth.
You leaned forward a bit, your eyes meeting his. "You have to be my personal taste tester. Gotta make sure everything is just right."
Max chuckled at your condition, a smirk playing at his lips. "Ah, so I'm not only your sous-chef, but I also get the privilege of being your taste-tester?" he teased.
You nodded, a sly smile of your own on your lips. "That's right. You'll be my human guinea pig. No complaining, just eating." Max groaned dramatically, pretending to look disappointed.
Despite his initial reluctance, Max couldn't help but smile at your cheeky request. "Okay, okay, I'll be your taste-tester on one condition," he countered.
Your curiosity piqued, you asked, "And what's that?"
Max leaned forward, his eyes meeting yours, "You have to give me one of your special desserts afterward."
You laughed, surprised at his audacity. "Oh, now you're pushing it, Verstappen," you quipped. "But I suppose I can throw in a dessert for you, as a token of my appreciation for your taste-testing services."
Max leaned back in his chair, a satisfied smile on his face. "Deal," he said, a playful grin on his face. "Let's hope your cooking skills are as good as your baking, Liefje."
“Why don't you have a boyfriend?” He asked suddenly.
The switch in topic jarred you. “That’s. I’m. What? How is that relevant?”
It wasn't smooth, but it was better than blurting out that your hopeless crush on him was one of the major factors.
“I’m curious,” he shrugged.
You swallowed hard, unsure of how to answer. Truth be told, your life was dominated by work, leaving little time for relationships. But if you explained that to Max, he'd probably just call you a workaholic and laugh. He was the epitome of work hard, play just as hard.
"I don't know," you finally said, trying to sound casual. "I guess I just haven't found the right person."
Max scrutinized you but didn't press the topic further. Instead, he took a sip of his water, his eyes never leaving your face. Max wasn't buying your nonchalant attitude. He leaned back in his chair, still watching you closely. "I don't believe you. You're a beautiful woman, and yet you're single."
The compliment caught you off guard. Coming from Max Verstappen, the three-time FIA Formula One World Champion, it was a lot to take in. Trying to keep your cool, you retorted, "You don't have to flatter me, Max. I know I'm not some supermodel or something."
Max's lips curled up into a sly smile. He leaned even closer, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Who said anything about comparing you to a supermodel?" he teased.
You felt your heart skip a beat at his proximity. He was even more attractive up close, with his sharp features and those intense blue eyes. Despite your best attempts to keep your cool, you found yourself blushing again.
"Come on, Schatje," Max said, his voice dropping an octave. "Just tell me why you don't have a boyfriend."
The intensity in Max's eyes was almost overwhelming. You fidgeted nervously in your seat, feeling increasingly flustered under his gaze. Why was he so insistent on this topic? You tried to come up with a witty retort, a clever way to deflect, but your mind was drawing a blank. His intense gaze made it hard to think straight. "It's not a big deal, Max," you finally managed to say, your voice betraying your growing nervousness.
"Bullshit." He leaned back in his chair, studying you once again. "You're avoiding the question. There must be a reason why you don't have a boyfriend."
Max's persistence made you feel inexplicably flustered. He was so adamant about knowing the reason behind your single status. You wracked your brain, trying to come up with a convincing answer that wouldn't give away your secret. But the more you fidgeted and avoided his gaze, the more he seemed to be onto you. "Come on, y/n,” he coaxed again, leaning forward and bracing his elbows on his legs. "Just give me a straight answer."
Max's smirk widened as he saw the effect he was having on you. He could tell he was making you nervous, and that only made him more determined to get the answer he wanted. "You're making this even more suspicious, you know," he said, his voice laced with gentle mockery. "The more you avoid the question, the more interested I become."
There was something about the way Max said that that sent a shiver down your spine. Was he just teasing you, or was there a hint of genuine interest in his voice? It was hard to tell. "You're relentless, you know that?" you mumbled, trying to cover your nerves with sarcasm.
Max chuckled, clearly enjoying how much he was getting under your skin. "I can be very persistent when I want something."
Max's admission sent a flutter through your stomach. He was relentless in his pursuit of an answer, and it was both frustrating and exhilarating. You fidgeted in your seat, trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach. "And you always get what you want, don't you?" you retorted, aiming for a tone of sarcasm.
Max chuckled at your attempt at sarcasm. He seemed unfazed as he leaned back in his chair, his gaze still fixated on you. "I do, usually," he agreed. "But you're proving to be quite the challenge, y/n."
He took in your flushed cheeks and shifting eyes, a small smile playing on his lips.
Max's gaze seemed to pierce through you, reading your every reaction. "You're blushing like a schoolgirl, Schatje," he teased, his eyes sparkling with mischief.
His observant nature was both impressive and irritating. You tried to compose yourself, to appear unfazed by his words. But the more he teased, the more flustered you became.
The sound of your phone ringing snapped you both out of whatever spell you two were under. “Shit,”  you muttered, “It’s Christian. I better-”
“Yeah, you should answer that,” he said, “I think I'm going to call it a night. It was simply lovely to have such a conversation with you, Lief”
You watched as Max stood from the table, a smirk still tugging at his lips as he stretched his arms over his head. The way his shirt pulled tight against his muscles didn’t escape your notice, but you quickly turned your focus to your phone. Christian’s name flashed on the screen, a reminder that despite the playful teasing and lingering tension, you were still on assignment.
Clearing your throat, you answered the call, doing your best to sound professional. “Hey, Christian. What’s up?”
Max lingered by the doorway to the bedroom, his blue eyes still watching you as he leaned casually against the frame. The man was frustratingly calm and composed, as if he hadn’t just spent the last several minutes flustering you beyond belief.
“Just checking in. Wanted to make sure everything’s running smoothly with you and Max,” Christian’s voice came through the speaker.
“Yeah, everything’s fine,” you replied, glancing at Max again. He raised an eyebrow, clearly hearing the conversation. “We’re just going over the cover story. Making sure we’re on the same page for tomorrow.”
“Good, good. Remember, we need you two to look convincing as a couple. This retreat is high-profile, and we can’t afford any slip-ups. Play the part, but don’t overdo it,” Christian said.
You nodded, even though he couldn’t see you. “Got it. We’ll be convincing.”
After exchanging a few more pleasantries, you ended the call and set your phone down, releasing a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. Max was still standing in the doorway, his gaze soft but unreadable.
“You okay?” he asked, his voice quieter now, almost concerned.
“Yeah,” you replied, though your heart still raced from the earlier tension. “Just… trying to make sure I don’t mess this up.”
Max pushed himself off the doorframe and took a few steps closer to you. “You won’t. You’re doing great, Schatje. Better than I expected, actually.”
The compliment caught you off guard, and for a moment, you let yourself believe that maybe—just maybe—there was more behind his words than simple encouragement. But you couldn’t afford to let your hopes get the better of you. This was a job. Nothing more.
“Well, I guess I should get some sleep too,” you said, standing up from the table. “Big day tomorrow.” Max nodded, his eyes flicking briefly to the bed in the other room. “Right. About the bed…”
You froze, realizing that you had been so caught up in the conversation earlier that you hadn’t given the sleeping arrangement much thought. But now, with the two of you standing there in a hotel room alone, the reality of sharing a bed with Max Verstappen hit you like a freight train.
“I can take the couch,” he offered quickly, sensing your hesitation.
“No, Max. It’s fine. We’re supposed to be a couple, right? Couples share beds.” You tried to sound confident, but your voice wavered slightly.
Max’s lips quirked into a small smile. “True. But I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
You shook your head, summoning what little courage you had left. “I’ll be fine. It’s just sleeping. No big deal.”
Max didn’t argue, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—something unreadable. He gestured towards the bedroom. “Ladies first.”
You swallowed hard and walked towards the bed, trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach. Max followed close behind, and as you both climbed into the bed, the space between you felt like an ocean. You were hyper-aware of every movement, every breath.
Max lay on his back, one arm resting behind his head, while you kept to your side, facing away from him. The silence was thick, the air filled with unspoken thoughts.
“Goodnight, y/n,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper.
“Goodnight, Max,” you replied, your voice tight with nerves.
You squeezed your eyes shut, willing yourself to fall asleep. But the warmth of Max’s body next to you, the steady rhythm of his breathing—it was all too distracting. You tried to push the thoughts away, reminding yourself that this was all pretend. That Max Verstappen didn’t see you as anything more than a colleague helping him out.
But as the minutes ticked by, sleep continued to evade you, and you couldn’t help but wonder—what if?
What if this wasn’t just pretend? What if Max felt the same pull, the same unspoken connection that you did? What if, somewhere in the midst of this fake relationship, something real was beginning to bloom?
You shook your head at the thought, frustrated with yourself for even entertaining such a ridiculous idea. Max was a superstar, a world champion, and you were just… you.
But as you lay there, feeling the gentle rise and fall of his breathing beside you, it was hard to ignore the tiny spark of hope flickering in your chest.
Maybe—just maybe—there was more to this story than either of you realized.
You shifted slightly in bed, careful not to disturb Max, who was still lying quietly beside you. You glanced over at him, only to find that his eyes were open, staring at the ceiling.
"Can't sleep?" he asked quietly, turning his head to look at you.
You shook your head, suddenly feeling vulnerable under his gaze. "Too much on my mind, I guess."
Max smiled faintly. "Same here."
There was a brief silence between you, and in the quiet of the night, it felt like the weight of unspoken words was suffocating. You wanted to ask him if this was all just a game to him, if he felt the same tension you did, but you were too afraid of the answer.
Instead, you settled for something safer. "Do you ever get tired of it? The pressure, the constant spotlight?"
Max turned his head fully towards you, his expression thoughtful. "Sometimes. It’s part of the job, though. I’ve learned to live with it. But yeah, there are days when it gets overwhelming."
You nodded, understanding the weight of his words. "I get that. It’s hard to find balance when the whole world is watching."
Max's eyes softened, and for a moment, it felt like the walls between you two were crumbling. "Yeah. But it’s not all bad, you know? There are people who make it easier."
You looked at him, your heart fluttering at the implication of his words. Was he talking about you? Or was this just part of his charm?
Before you could respond, Max shifted closer, closing the small gap between you. His proximity made your heart race, and you held your breath as he reached out, brushing a strand of hair away from your face.
"You make it easier, y/n," he whispered, his voice low and sincere.
Your heart skipped a beat, and for a moment, the world seemed to stop. There was no more pretending, no more acting for the sake of the mission. It was just the two of you, lying in the dark, and suddenly, it felt like everything you had been holding back was on the verge of spilling over.
"Max," you whispered, your voice trembling as you struggled to find the right words.
But before you could say anything more, Max leaned in, his lips brushing softly against yours. You imagined Max kissing you before, but didn’t think it would ever be so soft. His lips barely brushed against yours, but it felt like the beginning of something more. It tempted you like nothing else ever had. He must’ve felt it, too, since he deepened it. You melted. You surrendered. You never really stood a chance before him. 
“So, you like me? Was that why you kissed me, or, ” You asked when he pulled back a little to gaze at you. “I’m sorry. I just need to hear you say it because I really like you and have for months. Fuck, maybe I shouldn’t have said that because we have a whole acting and pretending thing ahead and now you know and I don't want it to be weird.”
Your mind almost shut down when he gave you a full-blown smile and said, “Yeah, I like you. I thought it was obvious. I tried dropping little hints, talking about your smile and teasing you.” He said. “You know Kelly dumped me because I remembered your coffee order when we were at the hospitality not hers,”
You stared at Max in shock, your heart thudding loudly in your chest. Kelly dumped him over... you?
"You remembered my coffee order?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.
Max chuckled softly, his thumb gently brushing over your cheek as he held your gaze. "Yeah," he replied. "Every single time. It wasn't something I planned to memorize, but I guess I couldn't help it. You’ve always been in the back of my mind, even when I didn’t realize it." You blinked, overwhelmed by the sudden flood of emotions. All the late-night conversations, the teasing, the moments when his touch lingered a little longer than necessary—it all clicked into place. He wasn’t just playing a part. He liked you. Max liked you.
"You really are an idiot," you said with a breathy laugh, feeling lighter than you had in weeks. The tension between you two, the unspoken feelings, had been weighing on you for so long, but now everything felt so clear.
Max grinned, his face inches from yours. "Takes one to know one," he teased, his lips brushing against yours again.
You leaned into him, your hands finding their way to his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as you kissed him back. This time it wasn’t tentative or cautious. It was everything you had been holding back, all the feelings you had suppressed because you thought it was just part of the job, part of the act.
But this was real. You were real.
When you finally pulled back, you were both breathless. Max’s forehead rested against yours, and you could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat under your hands.
"Guess we’re going to have to make this mission even more believable now, huh?" Max murmured, his voice filled with that same teasing warmth.
You smiled, biting your lip as you looked up at him. "We might have to practice a little more, just to make sure we’re convincing enough."
Max laughed, a sound that sent warmth coursing through your veins. "I think we can manage that." 
A moment passed before you giggled, happiness blooming in your chest. Max Verstappen liked you. Wanted you. “Please do,” you breathed, pulling him back down for another kiss.
He groaned, ravaging your mouth as he moved on top of you. His knee pushed your legs apart so he could settle between them, swallowing down your whimpers when he pressed his growing hardness against your pussy. He ground his hips, your panties soaked as his tongue tangled with yours. The man kissed you like he had something to prove.
Like he wanted to own you.
His muscles rippled as he leaned up and grasped the bottom of your nightie. The vision of him above you like this was now engraved in your mind. “If you want me to stop, I will.”
Sleeping with him was moving fast considering you just confessed your feelings for each other, but you didn't care. “Don't stop,” you whispered, quivering as he tugged the fabric over your head.
Your hands moved up to cover your chest before he gripped your wrists. “Are you trying to hide from me?” He questioned, his smirk playful in comparison to the uncertainty in his gaze.
You didn't want him doubting himself or your want for him for a second.
“Maybe? I mean, look at you and look at…”
You wouldn't knock on your looks since you were generally confident in your appearance, but the driver was an entirely different level of gorgeous. “Don't,” he whispered, releasing a wrist so he could cup your breast. You arched your back and any uncertainty in his eyes before faded when a moan escaped your lips. “You're so fucking beautiful.”
The praise almost made your eyes water as he brought his head down, losing focus when he swept his tongue across your nipple. Your eyes fluttered shut as he did it again, a wave from a sea of ecstasy crashing over you. Your heart thudded faster, addicted to the feel of his sinful mouth, suckling gently as his hands continued to explore. You writhed beneath him, your fingers tangling in his hair to pull him closer. "Please,"
He chuckled, the vibration making your breast hum in his mouth. "Please what, baby?" He asked, his free hand moving to your other breast, pinching the nipple gently. You whimpered, your hips bucking against the floor. "Please touch me, please kiss me, please fuck me,"
“You are such a needy baby,”
"His hands slid down your sides, gripping your thighs and spreading them apart. He settled between them, his breath hot against your core. "You want me to touch you here?" He asked, his fingers gently caressing your folds through your underwear."
“You’re the reason I don't have a boyfriend,” you whined, your fingers twisting in his hair. Why did you say that?
He paused, lifting his head to look at you with a mix of confusion and realization. "Because of me?" He asked softly. "Because I'm always around, and no one else can compare?" He slid a finger underneath the fabric, touching you for the first time.
His finger traced your slit, gathering your wetness before pushing inside gently. You let out a sigh of relief, your hips tilting to meet his finger. "Is that it? Is that why you don't have a boyfriend?" He asked, curling his finger inside you, rubbing your g-spot. 
“Y-yes… It's you, has always been you, Max.” you gasped.
He added another finger, pumping in and out of you slowly. His voice was low, filled with a dominance you'd never heard from him before. "So, every time you went on a date, every time they kissed you, it was me you thought of?” 
His fingers moved faster, curling and rubbing against your g-spot. "And every time they tried to touch you, hold your hand, it was my hand you wished was there instead?" He asked, his thumb rubbing your clit in circles. "Is that it, baby?”
But what can you say more besides moaning at his touch. 
He grinned wolfishly, his eyes locked onto yours. "You can't speak because you're so turned on, thinking about me instead of them. Isn't that right?" His fingers continued to pump in and out of you, his thumb pressing circles onto your swollen nub. "Say it.”
But you’re not thinking straight. You’re not thinking straight at all when all he did was teasing you like that.
He growled, his face hovering over your core. "Say it, or I'll stop." His fingers paused, buried deep inside you. You squirmed, your hips bucking, silently begging him to continue. "Say it," he repeated, his voice low and dangerous.
“Max” you breathed, clenching your legs together.
He tsked disapprovingly, prying your legs apart with his broad shoulders. "Not until you say what I want to hear." His golden eyes bore into yours, filled with desire and determination. "Say, 'Only you, Max. Only you.'" His fingers remained motionless. 
“Jus’ need you. Need you to make it better. ‘M yours Daddy, only yours.” 
His expression softened, and he rewarded you by moving his fingers again, crooking them inside you. "Good girl," he praised, his voice gentle. "Now, wrap your legs around my shoulders. I'm going to make you come with my mouth.”
You eagerly wrapped your legs around his shoulders, locking your ankles behind his neck. He lowered his face between your thighs, his breath hot against your wet flesh. "You're so ready for me, baby," he murmured, his thumbs spreading you open. "So swollen and needy.”
And without further teasing, he pressed his lips to your clit and sucked. Hard. His fingers curled inside you again, hitting that perfect spot. You gasped, your back arching off the bed as wave after wave of pleasure washed over you. "Oh god oh god oh god,"
Max smiled around the soft pearl in his mouth and flicked it gently with the tip of his tongue. "Feel good, baby?" he breathed. His head tilted up to you, and he could see you were struggling just to breathe, face painted with a medley of emotions. You didn't know if you could, or should, be feeling this good from a man so evil. Max flattened his tongue and licked a long stripe up your pussy to ensure that you would. Then he posed the question again, smirking. "You like my tongue on this wet, needy cunt?" His words were so damn obscene, but you nodded anyway. Feeling small and powerless beneath those big, broad hands as they pinned you back on the sheets and spread you even wider for the taking.
He loved how innocent and lewd you looked at once, wincing with pleasure and still trying to keep your composure like you thought a good girl should.
And, just as your breaths were starting to hitch and grow more ragged in your chest, he pushed two fingers inside.
The act surprised your lover almost as much as it did you-not quite, but almost -upon feeling how tight you were, how resistant to even two digits you seemed to be. He hardly knew whether to shove them deeper or pull them out, so fast did your muscles contract around him. When you whined a loud, protracted, 'FUCK!' he figured he would stick with the former. He grinned, having never heard you speak, much less swear, out of pleasure like this. Your head lolled back and your body made an arch when his fingers curled inside you. You were panting, moaning, coating his hand with your juices, and Max knew you were close. He started pumping his fingers in and out while his tongue worked your clit, chin practically doused in your arousal by now. A swell of pride rose within him: he could finally bring you home to that sweet release, have you a shaking, soaking mess above his face like you were wholly his and no one else's. He moved his tongue even faster and sank his fingers straight down to the knuckle.
 "Come on my face, Liefde. Show me what a good girl you are.”
And suddenly you were coming undone all over him—crying his name, clawing his skin, squeezing your legs so tight around his head you feared you might snap it in two.
He slowly licked you clean, his gaze never leaving yours. "You taste even better than you look," he murmured, a slow smirk spreading across his face. He leaned in close, pressing his forehead to yours. "And you look... like a masterpiece.
You took his face in closer and sucked your arousal off his tongue. Took him by surprise and dragged a mindless, lazy, half-crazed and careless tongue all over his, where your juices had no doubt collected too. That slutty, fucked-out look you gave him—like your brain had all but fallen out of your head with the orgasm he’d given you—was everything Max could’ve wanted.
Max's eyes widened in surprise as you sucked his face clean, his hands instinctively coming up to hold your head in place. He groaned into your mouth, his own arousal spiking at the filthy, careless way you were using your tongue.
He deepened the kiss, his tongue plunging into your mouth to explore and taste every inch of it. His hands slid down to your waist, pulling you even closer against him, letting you feel the hard length of his cock pressed up against you.
“I need to fuck you now,” he said.
His voice was rough with desire, his patience worn thin. He reached between your legs, grabbing your thigh and tossing your leg over his shoulder. He positioned himself at your entrance, the head of his cock pressing against your soaked folds. "Hold on, Schatje,"
He slammed into you with no warning, burying his cock deep inside your pussy in one brutal thrust. You cried out in surprise and pleasure, your walls clenching around him as he fills you completely. He grabbed your other thigh, holding you in place as he started pounding into you with ruthless intensity.
“Feel a little stretch down there, huh?”
You didn’t have to say anything, just whimpering in time. Max kissed your forehead and let you fold into him as his dick wreaked havoc down below. He kissed you again, and again, and in between kisses, mumbled,
“That’s daddy’s sweet, needy little slut.”
“My perfect fucking Schatje, so good at taking my cock.”
Every syllable spoken aloud was like a brand new catalyst for your impending release. You barely nodded your head, opened your mouth and whined pathetically, but that’s exactly how Max wanted you.
"Shit, you were made for this, weren't you baby? Made to take my load." He's so lost in the way you whine, telling him he's right and he knows it when he feels the way your body clenches and flutters around him.
He pistons his hips, fucking you with abandon, his balls slapping against your ass with each brutal thrust. He reaches up to grab your breast, squeezing it roughly as he snarls in your ear. "Gonna fill this fucking pussy up with my cum, mark you as mine.”
His grip on your thighs tightened as he continued to pound into you, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh filling the room. "Not till I say so, baby. You gonna wait for me, aren't you?" He grunted, his own release barreling down on him. 
“Daddy, faster, please, harder, feels so good!” You were practically sobbing, loving the way he was splitting you open.
“I'm Gonna cum, daddy! Can I cum?” Max practically growls, not missing a beat while still thrusting in you.
He grunted approvingly at your desperate pleas, his face contorting with effort as he held back his own release. "Not... till... I... say... so..." He punctuated each word with a powerful thrust, his voice harsh with command. "Look at me, baby. Look at me when you beg."
You preened, the walls of your pussy clenching around his length. “Please, daddy.” 
“Jesus, you’re making me so wet. You’re such a little whore for me.”
“I’m your whore. Always, daddy, please!”
His face contorted with pleasure as you finally gave him what he wanted. "Good girl," he hissed, his pace becoming frenzied as he finally let himself go. "You're gonna take it all, aren't you? Gonna take every last drop?" 
“Yes!!” You sob, biting down onto his shoulder to keep your cries down while he continues to fuck you into oblivion. You don't understand how such filth can spew from that pink, pouty little mouth of his. "Please-please-need-you-daddy-I'm gonna-" 
“ I’m 'yours sweet girl, all yours, go on, cum for me love, cum on my cock, it's all yours" He gazed into your eyes, cooing at your parted lips and sweat slicked skin. It didn't take long for you to shatter around him his lips smashing against yours to swallow your moans.
"Want your cum daddy" You beg , desperate to have him claim you from the inside.
"Oh fuck baby, y-you can't say that, gonna, oh fuckkk" Your words throw Max right off the edge as he lets out a deep groan stilling his hips and shooting endless ropes of his spend into you. You both lay in comfortable silence, your fingers playing with his hair now disheveled. 
“Do you mean it? After this is all over?” Anything could happen. Perhaps this was just to keep his bed warm. Something to keep him calm, you were just someone to-
"Of course Liefje" Max presses a firm kiss to your forehead, silencing the thoughts that tried to run wild. "You're mine"
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yourusername first day at work, welcome to the playground - newbie.
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user1 what a dream job 😭
user2 I wanna be there toooooo 😭
urfriend my baby's dream finally came true
yourusername wish me luck bestie
user4 what is your job?
yourusername i'm the new intern in social media for RBR
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maxverstappen1 this new (intern) social media manager has me doing all sorts of weird things, apparently the fans like me doing this…I’m yet to be convinced 😂 might need a long nap after this.
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username12 fyi we absolutely love photos like these 😂
landonorris I nearly fell off my chair laughing after scrolling through this post 😂😂😂
username13 thank you the new intern for convincing max to bless us with a world of meme worthy content, i beg for more
username14 he has no idea how much we love seeing this side of him does he???
username15 pls promote ur new intern to be ur lifelong admin @/redbullracing
redbullracing let me ask my boss first ferrari we still have open position for the new intern, wanna join? redbullracing back off mercedesamgf1 or u can work for us instead, why be an intern when u can be our new admin for a very demure, very mindfull team! username16 are they battling for the new intern 😂 username17 on track and offtrack battle
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yourusername life lately as the new intern at @/redbullracing
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username18 so u r the new intern that blessed us with so much max's meme
yourusername no need to tks me 🤗 username18 u r so pretty, might be my new wife
username19 oooooh max's in the like
username20 aww so cute
username3 the outfits slay
landonorris uhhh 
username21 WHAT ARE YOU EOING HERE maxverstappen1 she's not on ur team, mate landonorris so i can not say hello to her ???
yourbff you are so effortlessly gorgeous please 😫 and whose hand is that wifey
username22 wtf is max and lando beefing in the comment
username23 shut the f up she's a swiftie OMG i need a challenge with max and checo with taylor
yourusername working on it, but these two know nothing 'bout the pop culture 😭 username24 OMG the devil works hard but u gotta work harder girl
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redbullracing Taylor Swift 1 - 0 Chestappen
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maxverstappen1 do not shame ur drivers publicly like that
redbullracing we do not 🤗 landonorris how can they not know about THE TAYLOR georgerussell63 i would have won this charlesleclerc if the ferrari's challenge could be this easy
username30 they cant even score a point
username31 OMG Chestappen
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f1wags new wag alert!!! This might be the new gf of Max and she also works for Red Bull too
username32 OMG is she y/n the old intern now admin
f1wags that's her
username33 i follow her too and she is soooooooo pretty
username34 her new ideas for all their challenges are cool too
username1 😒😒
username2 BOOOO👎
username3 so it’s official then huh?
username13 BODY IS TEAA
username24 HOLYYY
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maxverstappen1 i think this called hard launch and yes this is my new gf @/yourusername took all the pics since she thought i'm not very good at it
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ja3yun · 6 months
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Red Ocean | P.JS
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vampire!jay x succubus!femreader warnings: smut (mdni), rough, unprotected sex, power dynamics, blood and biting (a lot of it), dirty talk, spanking, oral (m.rec), throat fucking, swallowing, mentions of manipulation and control (but all consensual!), not proofread, anything else lmk! wc: 8.5k synopsis: with jongseong starving for his next feed as a self proclaimed veggie, his friend suggests visiting red ocean to quench his thirst, but when he gets there, there's something off about the place. a/n: hi! so listen, this is completely new territory for me bc i write cute lovey dovey scenes and this is pure FILTH. this was originally going to be a thank you for 1.5k (which thank you btw!) but i think i want to write something else for that since this kind of fic doesn't suit some people's taste, so please enjoy it as just a lil something. there is a lot of blood and vampire stuff so like, if you don't enjoy that, feel free to scroll!
Slumping onto the couch beside his buddy Jake, Jongseong looks like he's been through the wringer. His eyes are droopy, his head's pounding, and he's got this desperate hunger gnawing at him. "I'm fucking starving," he groans, squeezing his eyes shut, trying to block out the craving for blood that's been driving him nuts.
It has been 4 weeks since he has had a decent meal and he is starting to lose the strength in his body, his powers growing weaker by the second. It’s gotten so bad that he almost mauled the girl next to him in the lift on the way up to his best friend, Jake’s apartment, thinking about how good it would be to pierce her neck and taste her blood on his tongue, drinking her until he’s stuffed.
But it goes against Jongseong’s number one rule: never feed from a human.
Jongseong has lived his life for 148 years and lived 127 years of it as a vampire. He has been a self-proclaimed vegetarian for over 60 years, vowing that now he can control his thirst around humans, he will never feed from anyone ever again. It was a personal choice, one that is lost on his friends because, to them, one of the greatest pleasures in this shitty never-ending life is to feast on fresh human blood.
It’s not that he didn’t love the taste of human blood, in fact, he often finds dinner within the confines of a type O blood bag that Jake kindly provides him when on shift. His friend works as a delivery man, transporting goods from one hospital to another, and sometimes while he has to use the ‘bathroom’ he sniffs out what he calls the Treasure Room; a room filled with red gold. Stealing the blood is easy, it’s understanding why Jongseong won’t just suck on a pure nape that is the hard part.
“There are some bags in the fridge,” Jake points over to his white, shabby refrigerator where he keeps some spare bags of sweet crimson for himself, “I can’t keep doing this, Jongseong. The hospitals are starting to notice and it’s hard enough to feed me never mind you,” he exhales heavily, trying to relay to Jongseong the burden he carries.
Jongseong sighs, fighting to find the energy to drag himself to the fridge, “I’m sorry, the closest woods is 5 hours away and wildlife doesn't exactly run rampant around these parts,” he retorts, hoping his friend will understand his struggle.
The bags are nice, but they’re cold and stale, he wants something warm and substantial, something only living beings can provide. Unfortunately for him, deer and foxes have been scarce in recent weeks.
Nodding, Jake pulls himself off the couch to grab him and his friend a bag. Jongseong watches Jake take the blood bags from the refrigerator, his stomach twisting with relief and remorse. He despises having to rely on Jake for meals, knowing the toll it puts on his friend.
Jake hands him one of the bags before sitting beside him once again, concern etched on his face, “You could start feeding from humans again,” he suggests, knowing that it’s sort of a lost cause. Jongseong has been a veggie for so long that he knows the idea is ludicrous to him, but it seems like his only option now.
“Not a chance in hell,” Jongseong argues back, piercing his fangs into the blood bag and sucking some out of it, his eyes lighting up as he tastes the sweetness. Despite his love for human blood, he stands by his morals, “I’m not that person, I’m not like those mosquitoes from the Tracks.”
The Tracks are notorious for hosting some of the most bloodthirsty vampires to roam Seoul. They’re lethal and dangerous; in Jongseong’s eyes, they might as well be parasites. He knows it’s wrong to cast judgment on a whole group of people based on a few individuals, but these creatures aren’t like Jake and Jongseong; they’re predatory and conniving, doing whatever it takes to get humans to surrender to them, even if that means abusing their power.
Jongseong vowed to never do such a thing, to keep humans safe. After all, he was laid victim to the hands of a vampire all those years ago, why would he now wish to cause the same harm to an innocent being? 
Jake sits up straight, his thinking cap secured firmly on his head, “What if they consented? Like how Bona has consented to me?” he offers as a solution.
Bona is Jake’s long-term human blood bag turned girlfriend, she allows Jake to take what he needs from her, trusting him to never harm her. It works tremendously well, however, as much as she is there to provide herself to her man, Jake doesn’t like to abuse the offering, hence the use of blood bags for himself.
Jongseong scoffed, recognising the uniqueness of Jake's situation, "It’s alright for you to say, your girlfriend is the most chilled person I know. Could you imagine if I just walked up to someone and was like ‘Hey, can I suck on one of your main arteries for a couple of minutes?’ I’m sure that’ll go down well,” he remarked sarcastically, highlighting the absurdity of the notion.
Suddenly, Jake’s eyes light up as if he had come up with the solution to all of Jongseong’s problems, “What about Red Ocean?” he queries.
“The sex club? I’m hungry, not horny, Jake,” Jongseong says back.
Red Ocean is a famous strip joint in the middle of town that also provides bonus services to those who throw enough money around. It’s not the worst place in the world but it is certainly not what he is looking for.
“Well you’re single as well as hungry,” Jake starts, his face never diminishing his bright expression, “What if you could quench both thirsts at once?”
Jongseong had no problem getting laid, in fact, he was good as it gets for a superb fuck around these parts; it didn’t take long for him to lure women into his bed for a one night thing. But that didn’t mean he feasted on them, he was far too much a gentleman for that. The woman that he slept with signed up to get pounded into, not drained of their blood.
"What the fuck are you even suggesting? That I go feed off some poor girl just because she's a sex worker? It's a legitimate profession, you know," Jongseong argues vehemently, placing the now-empty blood bag on the coffee table before him.
Rolling his eyes, Jake lets out an exasperated sigh. "Yeah, yeah, we all know you’re a feminist" he quips, brushing off Jongseong's defence, "But Red Ocean isn't just your run-of-the-mill sex club. My buddy Jungwon told me they've got a whole section specifically for vampires like us. Plenty of willing donors, no strings attached."
Jongseong runs a hand over his face, feeling the weight of exhaustion settling in, "But why would anyone agree to that?" he wonders aloud, struggling to comprehend the idea of people willingly offering themselves up as disposable blood bank for a paycheck.
Shrugging nonchalantly, Jake takes a sip from his own blood bag, "Different strokes for different folks, I guess," he offers with a shrug as if that explains everything, "I'll have Wonnie send over the details."
Despite his reservations, Jongseong knows that his hunger won't be satisfied for long with just blood bags. Reluctantly, he nods, conceding to Jake's suggestion. Perhaps Red Ocean holds the key to quelling his insatiable cravings without compromising his morals. Only time will tell.
_____
Standing outside the red-lit nightclub, Jongseong hypes himself up to enter, his comfort zone being pushed to its brink. He is a homebody who enjoys binging TV shows and playing his guitar, so this venture is foreign to him. 
His nervousness is heightened by the fact that he is here alone. Jake, being the devoted lover he is, would never risk an argument with Bona over a place like this. And Jongseong's other dependable friend, Heeseung, is preoccupied with a work assignment, leaving him to traverse this foreign environment on his own.
Despite his concerns, Jongseong knows he can't back out now, the hunger that lies in the pit of his stomach is only getting worse. With a final steeling of his will, he pushes open the club's entrance and enters the throbbing, crimson-hue interior, prepared to face whatever awaits him within.
The place really lives up to its name Red Ocean because all he can see in front of him is red; red lighting and neon signs, the workers are all laced with some form of red attire, and there is an ocean of people. Jongseong looks like a deer in the headlights as he walks up to the reception desk. 
His gaze is immediately drawn to a sultry figure standing near the entrance. She's the epitome of allure, with long, flowing hair cascading over her shoulders and a figure that curves in all the right places. Her eyes, smouldering with an enticing gaze, seem to beckon him forward.
She stands behind a large desk area, her presence commanding attention as she takes in the arrivals with a knowing smile. Dressed in a form-fitting dress that accentuates her ample curves, she exudes an air of confidence and sensuality that leaves Jongseong momentarily breathless.
As Jongseong approaches, he can't help but feel a flush of heat rise to his cheeks under her gaze. Her lips curve into a seductive smile as she extends a manicured hand towards him, her voice smooth as velvet as she speaks.
"Welcome to Red Ocean," she purrs, her voice laced with a hint of mischief, “How can we fulfil your desires tonight?” Her question hangs in the air as Jongseong is entranced by her.
He can’t put his finger on it, but suddenly he’s more tired than before, his body almost as if it’s being led on its own, like he’s having a strange out-of-body experience. Perhaps it’s the heat mixed in with the smoke, or maybe it’s something more.
Clearing his throat nervously, Jongseong tries to regain his composure as he addresses the hostess. "Um, yeah, I was told there's a private area?" he asks, hoping she'll understand his subtle hint.
With a dark smile, the hostess nods, her gaze lingering on him with a knowing glint. "Absolutely, sir. For £700, you can enjoy the company of one of our talented performers in a private setting, with a complimentary bottle of champagne," she explains smoothly, her fingers dancing across the screen of her iPad.
Jongseong defiantly shakes his head, “No, no, none of that,” he notices how her smile drops as if he has offended her, “No! I just don’t…I don’t need that kind of service,” he says softly. This is going a lot more awkwardly than he had planned. The last thing he needs to do is offend her, this could be his only chance at a proper meal for weeks.
There’s also a nagging voice in the back of his mind that’s telling him to be careful. Telling this woman outright that he is a vampire could end disastrously, hunters lurk in every corner of the city, waiting for their moment to capture vampires exactly like him. It’s not easy to tell who is a hunter and who isn’t, so for all he knows, this club could be collecting vampires and luring them in with possibilities of feeding when in actual fact, they will tear them limb from limb and burn them out back.
He has to tread carefully here.
The atmosphere is heavy around him as he tries to regain control of the situation, but with his energy low, it’s proving difficult, “Do you provide…special services?” he asks, puffing out his chest a little to feign confidence.
Jongseong isn’t a timid person, he’s always been known for being strong and confident but for some reason, he’s regressed back to his little awkward, virgin self. This place is throwing his entire aura off and messing with his head. Maybe it’s just the hunger that sits within him.
The hostess eyes him sceptically, her gaze lingering on him in a way that sets his nerves on edge. "We offer a variety of unique services, tailored to each individual's preferences," she replies, her voice dipping seductively as she sizes him up. "So, sir, how can I ensure you have the best experience possible?"
Jongseong shifts uncomfortably under the weight of the hostess's scrutiny, his mind racing with uncertainty. He hadn't expected this encounter to be so challenging. Every instinct tells him to tread cautiously, to protect himself from potential danger while still satisfying his hunger.
"I... I'm looking for something," Jongseong finally manages to say, his voice barely above a whisper. "Something... off the menu, so to speak."
The hostess raises an eyebrow, her expression unreadable as she considers his request but she doesn’t budge, in fact, she crosses her arms, clearly having enough of this encrypted conversation. Jongseong needs to be straightforward if he wants to leave here fully satisfied.
The password.
How could he forget that Jake had texted him a password? Once Jake had asked his friend Jungwon for more details, he said the only way to get into the back area with the other vampires was with a password. Jongseong’s brain has been so clouded since he walked in here that he completely forgot the one important detail.
"Dracaena Trifasciata," he manages to utter, though his pronunciation leaves much to be desired. Still, the hostess's reaction tells him he got the message across, her bored expression transforming into a sly smirk.
As Jongseong watches, spellbound, the hostess's transformation leaves him momentarily breathless. Her once closed-off demeanour now radiates warmth and familiarity, as if she's greeting an old friend rather than a stranger.
"My little crimson crusader," she purrs, her voice sending a shiver down Jongseong's spine. "Why didn't you just say so?"
Her words are like a siren's call, drawing Jongseong closer until he stands before her, unable to resist her magnetic presence. As she reaches across the desk, her hands beckoning him nearer, Jongseong obeys without hesitation, his curiosity mingled with a sense of trepidation.
With deft fingers, she undoes the first few buttons of his crisp white shirt, her touch sending sparks of electricity dancing across his skin. He feels a flutter of nerves in the pit of his stomach as her hands glide over his chest, exploring with an intimacy that leaves him feeling exposed and vulnerable.
She tilts her head, her gaze locking with his in a silent exchange of understanding. Jongseong can't tear his eyes away from hers, captivated by the depths of emotion swirling within them.
Despite the warmth of her touch, Jongseong can't shake the feeling of unease that gnaws at the edges of his consciousness. There's something about her that feels off, something that sets his instincts on edge. She isn’t a vampire, the heat of her touch is enough to clarify, but she is certainly no human.
But as he stands there, caught in her gaze, he finds himself unable to pull away. Whatever she is, whatever secrets she holds, Jongseong knows one thing for certain: he's in deeper than he ever imagined, and there's no turning back now.
As she pulls away, a sense of relief washes over him, though he can still feel the lingering intensity of the hostess's gaze. Standing upright behind her desk once more, she regards him with a mixture of curiosity and amusement, "You're a lot younger than those we see around these parts. You can't be any more than 160," she muses, her perceptive gaze honing in on Jongseong's youthful aura.
"I'm 148," Jongseong admits quietly, a hint of embarrassment colouring his tone. He's never given much thought to his age, existing as a perpetual 21-year-old who happened to live through 3 plagues and 2 world wars. 
Pouting playfully, the hostess holds a hand over her heart in mock sympathy, "Aw, you're just a baby," she coos, her tone patronising. The remark sends a surge of irritation coursing through Jongseong, his shoulders tensing and his jaw clenching involuntarily.
He suppresses the urge to retort, reminding himself to tread carefully in this unfamiliar territory. Despite the hostess's seemingly jovial demeanour, there's an underlying edge to her words that sets him on edge.
Circling the desk, the hostess stands in front of the young vampire, her body dangerously close to his as she leans up and presses her lips to his ear, “Follow me, I’ll lead you to everything you’re starving for,” she whispers. Jongseong feels a shiver run down his spine as the hostess's warm breath caresses his ear, her words sending a jolt of anticipation through him. Despite the warning bells ringing in the back of his mind, he finds himself unable to resist the allure of her invitation.
_____
As Jongseong weaves through the crowded club, his senses are assaulted by the mingling scents of sweat, alcohol, and, most tantalizingly, human blood. Each passerby sends a wave of hunger coursing through him, his fangs threatening to descend at any moment. But he clenches his jaw, reminding himself of his resolve to abstain from feeding on humans. Yet, isn’t that what he’s on his way to do?
Beside him, the hostess effortlessly navigates the throng of clubgoers, her presence commanding attention wherever she goes. She greets familiar faces with a knowing smile, exchanging pleasantries with ease. Jongseong can't help but marvel at her confidence and poise, even as his own nerves threaten to betray him.
Eventually, they reach a door marked "Staff," but as the hostess swings it open, Jongseong is met with an unexpected sight - a long, dimly lit brick corridor stretching out before him. The hostess glances back at him, urging him to follow with a subtle gesture.
With a mixture of apprehension and curiosity, Jongseong steps through the doorway, the weight of uncertainty heavy on his shoulders. He can't shake the feeling that he's venturing into uncharted territory, but with the promise of satisfying his hunger looming before him, he presses on.
As they reach the end of the corridor, Jongseong's heart quickens with anticipation, his senses heightened as they stand before the heavy, rusty door, “It’s just through here…” she trails off, silently asking for his name.
“Jongseong,” he replies, bowing his head in politeness. 
"Jessica," she offers in return, a slight grin playing on the corners of her mouth. Her simple gesture of introducing herself somehow eased the tension that had been coiling in his chest.
Jessica pushes open the door, revealing what can only be described as another reality. As Jongseong crosses the threshold, he feels as if he has been transported to a place beyond his imagination. The space before him is bathed in a delicate, ethereal glow, and the air vibrates with a palpable energy that awakens his senses. Peculiar symbols decorate the walls, their significance unknown to Jongseong but imbuing the place with an aura of ancient mysticism.
Jongseong's eyes widen in astonishment as he takes in the scene before him. The space beyond the heavy door is bustling with activity, filled with vampires from every generation lounging on plush couches and perched on bar stools. Gone is the facade of the club he had entered earlier; this is the true heart of Red Ocean.
The lavish area makes Jongseong question everything he has ever known. How many places are there like this? He hadn’t heard about this secret club until only a few days ago, so how long has it been here?
More importantly, “Uh, how much is this service?” he asks timidly as his eyes still scouting around the area where vampires are chatting away as if they aren’t deadly creatures of the night.
“Oh baby boy, don’t worry about that,” she smirks, turning to face him. It’s an ominous response, one that doesn’t fill him with much confidence, but he’s so hungry and weak that he can’t afford to pass up this opportunity due to mere scepticism. As long as it doesn’t break the bank, he’s willing to pay whatever he needs to quench this thirst.
The air in this new section of the club only serves to make him feel weaker like it’s sucking the breath from his lungs.
As Jessica looks around the room, his eyes follow, leading him to see a beautiful girl leaning against the bar, nursing her drink. The hostess’ face beams as she ushers the mystery girl over, much to Jongseong’s delight.
He might only be here to feed but who says he can’t indulge in these needs with someone beautiful like her?
“Y/N! Over here,” Jessica shouts, gesturing her friend forward. 
As you hear Jessica's call, you set your drink down, licking the remnants of the sweet beverage from your lips. It’s been a slow night for you, your usual boy cancelling last minute, leaving you in desperate need of someone new, someone to play with.
Snaking your way towards the awkward boy, you make sure your movements are purposeful, each sway of the hip intentional as you lure him into your vice. He’s a pretty little thing, much prettier than half of the men here, so you find yourself trying to grip him with your movements, beckoning him closer with every step.
As you approach him, you can't help but feel a surge of excitement coursing through you. There's something about him that sets him apart from the others in the room, something that makes your pulse quicken with anticipation. 
This is going to be a fun night.
"You are just the girl I need to treat my little sucky cup here well," Jessica states with a teasing grin, tracing her hand down Jongseong's arm, causing him to swallow deeply, "Could you take him off my hands?"
As you get closer, a rush of exhilaration runs through you. Jongseong's lingering gaze on you, hunger and desire in his eyes, just adds gasoline to the fire that is blazing within you.
Stepping closer, you rub his chest, much like the hostess had done but your touch is a lot more enticing, the way your fingertips linger on his skin a little too long causes his dick to twitch and his knees to crumble, as if he wanted to bow down and worship the ground you walked on.
Your leg slips between his, your knee rubbing against his inner thigh, close enough that he can feel it near his cock but far away enough to have him whining for more contact, "What's your name, baby?" you ask softly, your voice dripping with seduction as you look up at him through hooded eyes. You can see the desire burning in his gaze, the hunger for something more, and you're more than willing to give him what he craves, even if he doesn’t quite know what that is yet.
Jongseong's chest tightens at your touch, and his senses are overwhelmed by the magnetism you exude. With each passing second, he becomes fascinated by your presence, unable to resist the pull of attraction that draws him closer to you.
"Jongseong...Jay....Jongseong," he replies, his voice a frantic whisper. Your proximity, mixed with the gentle motions of your body against his, causes him to feel dizzy with need.
You stifle a laugh as your nails dig into his chest, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from Jongseong. "Jongseong Jay Jongseong, I’m Y/N," you purr, your voice dripping with seduction, "Would you like me to take you somewhere with a little more privacy?"
Your gaze meets his with an intensity that sends a shiver down his spine, your fingers digging into his flesh with a mixture of pleasure and pain. "Or would you like to have an audience?" you continue, your eyes wandering to the left.
Jongseong follows your gaze, his heart pounding in his chest as he takes in the scene before him. To the left, round couches are cluttered with vampires indulging in their primal desires, feeding from their claimed workers, fucking into them with velocity. Some couples are locked in passionate embraces, their bodies entwined in a frenzy of lust, while others simply watch on, their eyes gleaming with arousal.
One particular couple catches Jongseong's attention, the sight of blood dripping down the girl's body as she relishes the feeling of a vampire pounding into her from behind, their shared moans only silenced by the loud music that surrounds the club. He hates to admit it, but it makes Jongseong’s dick twitch.
Peeling his eyes away, he returns his gaze to you, “Private, please.”
You withdraw your body from him, leaving him aching for your touch. You held so much power over him despite being a supernatural creature, "A gentleman, huh?" you tease, your voice dripping with amusement. "Let's see how long that lasts." He can't help but feel a sense of longing as you tease him with your words, your playful demeanour only adding to the intensity of his need.
If he was starving before, he’s ravenous now.
You lightly intertwine your fingers with his as you pull him towards your private room,  the knuckles of his hand brush along your ass as you stay a step in front of him. His eyes rake over the back of your body and take in the sight of you. You are perfect in every way, your body exactly his type, the lingerie set you have on is a beautiful white laced number that leaves nothing to the imagination. 
Jongseong is too busy admiring the way your ass cheeks jiggle as you walk that he doesn’t even notice you opening the door and leading him in. Your presence is like a drug all on its own, like he needs to surrender himself to you to experience the full pleasure. 
The moment Jongseong sets his eyes on the room and not your body, he's enveloped in a world of sensual decadence and luxury. The walls are draped in rich, red and gold fabrics, casting the space in a warm, inviting glow. Intricate patterns adorn the walls, adding a touch of opulence to the intimate setting.
In the centre of the room sits a large, lavish round bed, its sheets adorned with intricate designs that shimmer in the soft light. The bed beckons invitingly, promising hours of pleasure and indulgence for those who dare to partake.
To one side of the room, a collection of toys is splayed out in the corner, their presence adding a hint of playful excitement to the air. From silk restraints to feathered ticklers, the array of implements promises endless possibilities for exploration and delight.
But that’s not what he is here for, he is here for a quick feed to tide him over for the next few weeks until he can go out hunting again. This is transactional and absolutely nothing more.
Lighting a few candles on the mantlepiece, you hear him speak up behind you, “Uhm, you should know that I’m not here to have sex or anything, I just need to feed a little,” he confesses.
The room, though exquisitely decorated, suddenly feels charged with tension as Jongseong's words hang in the air. The candles flicker softly, casting dancing shadows across the red and gold decor as you turn to face him, your expression unreadable.
"Excuse me?" you respond, your voice laced with disbelief. For a moment, Jongseong can sense a flash of anger in your eyes, a flicker of indignation at his suggestion.
But before he can backtrack, Jongseong rushes to explain himself, his words tumbling out in a frantic rush. "I'll pay for the full service!" he blurts out, desperation evident in his voice. "But to be honest, I just need some blood, that's all."
You laugh, slowly sleeking your way back to him. If he was turned on by the view of you from the back, he was foaming at the mouth as he took in the sight of your breasts spilling slightly out of the white-laced cups. 
“Jongseong, who told you about this place?” you ask, leading him to sit down on the edge of the bed.
“A friend of a friend,” he replies, trying not to touch your sides with his big hands despite the urge that flows through him. 
To make matters harder for him, you straddle Jongseong's lap and a surge of arousal courses through him at the feeling of your barely covered pussy pressing against his covered cock. His breath catches in his throat as you wrap your arms around his neck, your proximity overwhelming his senses.
"And did this friend of a friend tell you about our services? What it entails?"
With a playful pout, you gaze into his eyes, your seductive gaze leaving him feeling helpless under your spell. His mind goes blank, his thoughts scattered as he struggles to gather his thoughts in the face of your overwhelming allure. All he can do is shake his head in response to your question, his lips parting slightly in silent anticipation.
Blinking slowly, you draw him in closer, your silent command irresistible as he leans towards you, drawn by an invisible force he can't resist. And as your lips hover mere inches apart, you whisper words that send a shiver down his spine.
"You feed from my blood," you murmur, your voice sending a thrill through him as you grind down onto him, eliciting a shallow moan that you swallow eagerly, "And I feed from your desire."
It’s like something finally clicks in his brain; the lack of energy, the pull you have on him, his hunger replaced with a burning desire, the password being a succulent snake plant. You were no human.
“You're a succubus,” he whispers, the words hanging in the air as confirmation of what he's known deep down all along.
Placing your hands on his cheeks, you hold him in place as you swipe your tongue along his lip, tasting him for the first time. He tastes like honey, the sweetest taste you won’t be able to get enough of.
Taking his hands that are clenched tightly by his sides, you open them up and place them on your breasts which he happily obliges, “We can be called many things, succubi, Lilith’s angels, demons, the list is endless.”
As Jongseong squeezes your tits, you feel a surge of pleasure course through you, the sensation heightened by the contrast between the supple softness of your skin and the rough texture of your lingerie. Despite his attempts to resist, he finds himself unable to break free from your hold, drawn deeper into the web of desire you've woven around him. Even if he wasn’t under your spell, he doesn’t really know if he would want to stop anyway.
"We can be called many things - succubi, Lilith's angels, demons," you murmur, your voice dripping with seduction as you revel in his touch. "The list is endless."
As you speak, Jongseong can feel the weight of centuries of history and lore pressing down on him, the knowledge that vampires and succubi have long been intertwined, using one another to get what they need. But while vampires may pose a threat to humans with their insatiable thirst for blood, succubi wield power far more dangerous, feeding off human desire and emotional vulnerability.
Thus, Archangel Michael made it his mission many years ago to rid God’s great earth of any incubi and succubi, summoning his choir to catch them and burn their souls. The purge started in the 1910s, causing most demons like you to go into hiding, to save yourself from obliteration. 
It makes sense why Jongseong had never heard of this secret part of the club before, they had a lot to lose if news got out. For Michael’s choir, if they were to find out about this place, they would have a field day, picking apart each and every one of them.
You see his brain ticking and it makes you giggle, “We can help one another out, no?” you pose the question, knowing you can make him say whatever you need him to, to do whatever you please with him. Flicking your hair to the side, you expose your pure nape, “C’mon Jongseong, aren’t you starving?” you say seductively, your tone hushed as you emphasise the word starving.
Jongseong’s hand reaches up to touch your exposed neck to feel the blood pumping through your veins. He can hear it coursing along your neck, begging to be drunk by him. He licks his lips in longing, knowing that what he craves is just under your thin layer of skin.
As Jongseong's body reacts to your touch, his primal impulses take control, pushing him to the brink of want. His trousers tighten, a physical indication of his intense yearning. In his mind, he tells himself that you, your power, that is causing him to feel this way. But deep down, a nagging doubt persists: is it truly you, or are his own primitive urges driving him to the point of desperation?
Lost in the haze of lust, Jongseong finds himself unable to distinguish between reality and desire. The line between craving your blood and yearning to be buried deep inside your heat blurs, leaving him consumed by a frenzied need that threatens to overwhelm him.
His finger pricks your neck, drawing some blood as a taster out of the tiny wound. Involuntarily, his fangs protrude as he smells your sweet crimson blood, his mouth watering at the idea of devouring you right here, right now.
You know you’ve won, you’re going to get what you need and all at the expense of a tiny bit of blood, “That’s it, baby, give in to temptation,” you urge him, pulling his face closer to your neck. You can feel his breath ghosting over the wound and it makes your body press itself against him, seeking your own form of satisfaction.
Finally, he gives in, licking up the droplet of blood that seeps out of your neck before piercing you harshly. He savours the taste of your blood on his tongue, his senses ablaze with euphoria. Demon blood is intoxicating, having the same effect on vampires as alcohol does on humans, leaving vampires delirious with pleasure. He’s gentle compared to the older men you’ve had, meaning he has some form of restraint in him left.
Undoing his buttons, you slip off his shirt past his shoulders, hands roaming over his tanned skin as you crave to feel every inch of him. You tickle up his sides softly, causing his arms to instinctively pull you closer, pressing your tits against his bare chest as he revels in the sensation.
Retracting from your neck, his mouth stained with your blood, Jongseong's eyes meet yours with a newfound determination, "Stop controlling me," he demands, his voice laced with defiance as he challenges your hold over him.
But you shake your head, refusing to relinquish your grip, "Sorry, I can't do that," you reply, your tone unapologetic, "It's the only way I can get my end of the deal."
Jongseong bristles at your refusal, his determination only growing stronger, "Stop controlling me, and I'll fuck you properly," he challenges, his words a bold declaration of his intent.
Capturing your lips in his, he bites down on your bottom lip, sucking the sweet blood from it as he loses himself in the moment, bucking his hips up to rub his jeans against your clit, sending a wave of pleasure through your body.
In that moment, Jongseong proves himself to be more than just another vampire under your control. With his youth and vigour, he possesses a raw intensity that sets him apart, igniting a fire within you that burns hotter than ever before.
Licking along his right fang to taste your own blood, you moan out, craving him more than anyone ever before, “Fine. But don’t disappoint me, baby. I would hate to use you like a puppet,” you whisper back, your tongue collecting more of your blood from his chin.
In a flash, Jongseong feels like he finally has his energy back, that weight of your control finally lifted, leaving him the opportunity to do whatever he wants with you. Although he knew the intensity of your manipulation, he hadn’t realised how freeing it was to be in control of his own body.
Quickly, he lifts you up and tosses you on the bed, his strength showing as you fly up to the middle of the large bed. His display of strength only fuels your desire for him further. 
You pull him by his neck to hover over you, kissing him messily as you breathe in his need for you, “Tell me what gets you off,” you say quietly, a smirk playing on your lips as you lend your hand down to cup his cock through his jeans, “You want me to suck you off?”
Jongseong groans into the kiss, the idea of your pretty lips around his shaft only sending him further into a tizzy, “Fuck yes, Princess. You think you can handle it?” his grip lands on your throat, squeezing it tightly as he shuts off your airwaves for a millisecond, “You think your tiny little mouth and throat can take me all the way?”
He originally came in here for your blood, but now all he’s thinking about is how he needs you bent over every surface, in every position, and having you begging for him. Something is appealing to him to hold so much power over one of hell’s strongest demons. Especially in your own playground.
You haven’t seen his cock, but your mouth starts to water just at the thought of it. Honestly, you didn’t expect him to be so vocal and demanding considering when you saw him he looked like he turned into the wrong club.
Maybe he was full of surprises.
Pushing him off you with all your might, you take control once again, “Edge of the bed, baby,” you instruct, sticking by your promise to not manipulate him into doing what you want, however, if he proves to be difficult, you might need to take things into your own hands.
Luckily, he’s an obedient little bat, taking off his bottoms before sitting down, stroking his thick cock as he waits for you to get into position. 
You give him a light kiss on his lips before trailing down his neck. Your actions leave your wounds seeping in front of him, inviting him to drink your blood once more. It stops you in your tracks but you don’t mind, the sensation of his hot, wet tongue licking over your wounds somehow made your pussy throb.
His fangs are anchored into you, stopping you from moving. He can’t get enough of you, your blood slowly turning into an addiction as he drains you, feeding himself full of you. 
Reaching your hand down, you grab his cock and yank it, causing him to yelp and withdraw his mouth from you. Jongseong’s eyes are wide as if questioning your intentions but you only offer him a laugh as a response, kissing into his mouth as you stroke him slowly.
Your soft hands feel amazing on his member, the way you expertly tug and squeeze him in all the right ways, it’s sensational, but he needs more. One of his hands pulls your face, holding it tightly in place as he stares deep into your eyes, “Are you going to suck my cock like you promised? Or do I have to fuck your throat instead?”
If you weren’t already wet, you were now. It’s as if he knows exactly what to say to get your motor running like he somehow knows all your turn-ons. Placing one last kiss on his lips, you snake down to his hardened length, tip pink with arousal. It’s so inviting, practically begging to be sucked.
Swiftly, you take his head into your mouth, sucking eagerly as you look up at him, eyes glistening with want and need. 
Jongseong moans out, the sight of you taking his cock in your pretty mouth while your blood is smudged all over your lips, it’s a sight he wants to etch into his brain forever. For all the years he’s been alive, this might be his favourite moment.
You love it too. As Jongseong's desire amplifies, you feel a surge of energy coursing through you, fueled by the intensity of his lust. It's a sensation unlike any other, the raw power of his desire feeding into your own, replenishing your energy with every breath he takes.
Taking him deeper into your mouth, you lay your tongue flat and bop your head up and down at a perfect pace. Jongseong grips your hair tight, creating knots in the strands as he pulls at your roots. The motion elicits a hum from your throat, sending a vibration through his cock straight to his tight balls. 
“Fuck, Princess, you’re so fucking good at that,” he states the obvious, knowing that you do this often, but this was a new experience for him, not one person has ever come close to sucking cock as good as you do.
You smile as you look up at him, your cunt dripping from his praises. It means something more when the men you’re with are saying those sorts of things out of their own free will, not because you’re feeding those thoughts into their minds.
Jongseong can feel himself getting close, ready to cum down your throat and have you swallow it. He thrusts into your mouth, now taking charge as he pushes your head down and bucks up, the back of your throat not stuffed with his fat cock.
“I’m gonna cum, Y/N,” he warns before shooting his load down your throat, each spurt making you gag as you struggle to swallow it. 
With his hand on your neck, Jongseong massages your throat, coaxing you to open wider and take in everything he has to offer. As he presses deeper into you, he can feel his length snugly nestled within your channel, the pressure from his hand adding to the pleasure coursing through him.
Finally, sensing your need for air, Jongseong pushes you off of him, allowing you to finally catch your breath. Despite not having even fucked you yet, you feel completely satiated, your body thrumming with the energy you've drawn from him.
You’re throat and face is red as you regulate your breaths, your voice hoarse as you begin to speak, “Did I meet your expectations?” you ask, biting your lip as you straddle him once more, his cock laying against your thigh.
Nodding, he pushes your hair back from your forehead, “You’re fucking unreal,” he whispers.
Laughing, you take hold of his spent cock, pumping him softly, “Can you fuck me, or is our session done?” you ask, hoping for a certain answer.
With his sensitive cock in your hand, he hisses, shutting his eyes as he revels in the sensation. He wants nothing more than to bend you over and fuck you senseless, but he needs to replenish the energy that he’s given away to you.
Jongseing takes your other hand, bringing your wrist to his lips. As he kisses your veins, his eyes remain locked onto yours, his teeth ready to sink in and take what he needs once again. Swiftly, he sinks his fangs in, causing you to tighten your grip on his dick, causing the vampire to moan out loudly. 
You take it as a sign to keep going, stroking him until he is hard again. 
The mixture of your hand working his oversensitive length and the blood he’s slurping out of you push his adrenaline to a new level, his energy replenished and his need to take you even more prominent than before.
Reluctantly, he removes himself from your wrist, kissing it softly before giving you it back, “I’m going to fuck you so good, you’re going to beg to be my personal blood bag,” he whispers, primal thirst for blood overtaking his body. But you don’t mind, truthfully, you like this side of him, it gets you off seeing him take control of you.
With a firm grip on your ass, Jongseong lifts you effortlessly, carrying you to the centre of the bed and laying you down gently. Your heart pounds in anticipation as he moves your thong aside, exposing your glistening pussy to his hungry gaze.
Desperate for release, you wrap your legs around his hips, grinding your folds against his throbbing cock in search of any form of relief. The friction sends waves of pleasure coursing through you, igniting a fire that spreads up to your stomach.
Jongseong's desire burns hot as he positions himself between your legs, his eyes locking with yours as he prepares to claim you as his own. At that moment, there's no room for hesitation or restraint - only the need to lose yourselves in the ecstasy of each other's embrace.
You arch your back, urging him to take you completely. The anticipation builds between you, each moment stretching out into eternity as you both crave the release that only each other can provide.
“Tell me you want it,” he demands, his mouth finding its way back to your neck. Mewling out, you try to push his cock inside of you but he holds steady, resisting your advances, “You were being so good earlier, what happened?” he tuts.
As hot as it is for him to be in charge, you can’t stand him getting too cocky, "I want you, but that's the difference, isn't it? I want you, but you need me," you tease, running your tongue across your bottom lip in defiance.
Jongseong clenches his jaw, and his eyes deepen with want. Despite his efforts to retain control, your words create a fire within him, creating a need that threatens to swallow him completely. But he pulls himself back, determined to show you that he is still in control.
With that, he thrusts into you with a force that leaves you gasping for breath, your walls clenching around him in response to the sudden intrusion. Each movement is calculated and deliberate as he sets a punishing pace that leaves you trembling with pleasure.
He takes you roughly, his cock sliding effortlessly in and out of your wet heat. A moan escapes your lips as you feel him stuff you to the brink, the sensation overwhelming in its intensity. He’s holding no punches, making sure you know exactly who needs who.
Your nails dig into his back, leaving crescent-shaped marks in their wake as you cling to him desperately, your body writhing beneath his with unbridled passion. Every touch, every kiss, sends shockwaves of pleasure coursing through you, igniting a fire that threatens to consume you entirely. 
“Jongseong!” you cry out as he drives into you harder, making sure you feel every inch of him, your walls being battered by the strength of his large dick. He’s incredible, top 5 best fucks you’ve ever had.
As Jongseong sits up, his hands pressing firmly against your back to arch you, you feel a surge of pleasure course through you as he drives himself even deeper inside you. His commanding presence leaves you breathless, lost in the intensity of the moment, “Tell me you need me,” he hisses out, spanking your ass as he thrusts faster, “Go on, beg for it.”
His demand sends a shiver down your spine, and you can't help but cry out in ecstasy. Each thrust drives you closer to the edge, your body trembling with anticipation as he takes you to new heights of pleasure.
With your resistance cracking beneath the force of his want, you find yourself entirely succumbing to him. Your raw, needy voice fills the room as you scream for more, your words a desperate plea for relief.
"I need you, Jongseong," you cry, your voice full of longing, "I need you to fill me up, to give me your cum." Despite the roughness of his previous ministrations when he was fucking your throat silly, you find your voice somehow, driven by an intense yearning that runs through you.
A triumphant grin spreads across his face as you give in. He drags you up by your hair and makes you sit on his cock as he piledrives into you harder, the tip of his cock hitting your sweet spot. Your neck is still pumping out blood but he knows he can do better than that; his teeth sink into you again, tearing the flesh as he rips into you, feeding from you like a man starved for centuries. The blood drips down onto your white lingerie, turning it pink.
In the throes of ecstasy, pure bliss envelops you both as you reach the pinnacle of pleasure, screaming out each other's names in a symphony of release.
"Jongseong!" you cry out, your walls clenching tightly around him as he spills his seed deep inside you. His movements slow but remain powerful, each thrust sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.
Your limbs go limp as you bask in the aftermath of your shared climax, your heat still clinging to him desperately, unwilling to let him go. Every inch of your being feels alive with pleasure as if you've been transported to another realm of existence.
Collapsing on top of you, Jongseong’s pants are short as he tries to catch his breath, his entire body exhausted. His tongue licks your wounds lazily, hoping it can heal you somewhat while also drinking every last drop of his dinner. 
“You’re amazing, Y/N,” he whispers into your nape, “Are you okay? Was it too much?” he asks with genuine concern, warming your chest a little.
“I’m good, thanks, Jongseong,” your voice is hushed, the effort to speak proving too much. 
He rolls off of you, examining your body to make sure there’s nothing bleeding out. You spot him doing this and laugh, “I’m fine, it takes a lot more to kill me than some vampire bites.”
It fills him with relief to know you’ll be okay. He hasn’t ever gone that far before, giving into his vampire urges so easily. He had lost complete control tonight, but as scary as that is, he wants to experience that again.
No deer or cow will ever compare to the sweet taste of you.
Almost like reading his mind, you lean against the headboard and speak up, “If you see Jess, she’ll be able to book you in for a next time.” Your eyes glimmer with mischief and also promise. You want to be devoured by him again by any means necessary. 
Nodding, Jongseong begins to get dressed, using the wet cloths provided by the club to clean his face of any blood. It’s a shame that all that beautiful red nectar going to waste.
“What if I don’t come back?” he teases, a smirk gracing his beautiful face as he turns to you.
“You will, they always do.”
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