#since at their funeral their friends all would have used they/then
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No one could say Dr Jona Ohnn suddenly and completely disappearing from their lab came as a shock. Jona themself had arranged that in that exact scenario 7 months into their disappearance their funeral was to be held, rather than the typical 7 years. They figured that given the danger of their work it would just be easier to get it out of the way quickly. And also that it would be funnier if they did reappear.
They weren’t wrong.
At their funeral, childhood friends recounted with tears in their eyes how they’d unconsciously clamber onto tables to get a better look at science experiments. “Dr Ohnn was like the protagonist of a horse girl movie when it came to science. They knew all the dangers, but those dangers were always worth it to them.” No matter what bizarre theoretical physics puzzle had finally done them in, Jona had undoubtedly been happy to go out like that.
Being a friendly person not taken to keeping secrets or hiding their feelings, Dr Ohnn’s friends were right. As they were ripped apart within a portal of their own creation, Jona was sad only that their research would have to end there.
But then it didn’t.
And Dr Ohnn is oh, oh so very pleased.
They only need some funding now, easily acquired with their new abilities. Just a little more funding. A little more.
The Spot might not be a great nom de plume but hey, they’ve never been a terribly serious person, so it’ll work while they get through the boring part of their work.
#they pronounce Jona basically identically to ‘Jonah’ but Jonah looks too masculine written down#relatedly The Spot’s pronouns are Any/All#which they didn’t actually realize until after the accident#up until then they’d basically never be gendered female and only been gendered neutrally rarely/on request#but no matter how they present themself now no one looks at The Spot and goes. oh yeah that’s definitely X gender#which made Jona realize that all pronouns are good for them#as long as it’s not the same ones over and over again#I’m just using they/them only for consistency#since at their funeral their friends all would have used they/then#my art#the spot#jona ohnn#<- in early drafts I kept accidentally misspelling their last name as ‘Olm’ so fun foreshadowing for The Lizard when he comes up#spiderman villain redesigns#specter spider au
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Blizz comfirming my headcanons that she was, in fact, presumed dead. Which potentially qualified her for a KIA status, meaning that there was a funeral, there was a memorial in her name somewhere, That they likely reduced funding to the program and just fucking left her out there, because there was such a slim chance that she survived that they couldn't justify the money/time/energy to bring her back.
But Winston refused to give up.
AND that means that she spent longer time in the Isolation chamber because nobody though that she would come back, so they had a lot mroe work to do once they saw the sorry state she was in, as far as creating an accelerator that would work for her. Imagine months, maybe up to a year, being stuck in one glass tank, with very little privacy, very little communication, and very little freedom. AND floating in and out of the timeline. God I love her so much.
#( ooc. )#I know a lot of people aren't happy with the new retcons and I'm sorry#But I do like the fact that they added this#because OW was a business at the end of the day#and a business wouldn't bleed out their finances out on one time lost girl#they already scrapped the project and tried to bury it all#ALSO a friend suggested that they may have used some of Sig's research to work with the slipstream#since sig and Dr. Winston worked together#So that's a great theory too#anyway I'm emo#BUT please please please imagine#Lena watching her own funeral#from just on the other side of that damn curtain#she feels Jack or Cass just walk through her#the casket is EMPTY#It would have probably been a smaller affair since it's not known if the slipstream was broadcasted to everyone#But I like to think the scientists would be there#and the strike team maybe#Even if they didn't know her as well#they would have gotten to know her a little bit as she was training for it#And now you can see why her biggest fear is getting forgotten again#of being left behind
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#genuinely not sure where to go . who to ask. do you just drive to cemeteries and ask for their directory. do they have those.#not at a point where i can ask my mother. have not heard his name from her mouth since july. not sure i could stomach hearing it now.#ive read the obituary again. all it says is the service address. private internment. the church is too small for him to be there.#reading a wikihow on how to find people graves. if it wasnt so sad it would almost be funny. he would probably laugh.#going home soon. the light is never on in his old room. the path between our houses is overgrown.#two winters ago i used the front sidewalk to shovel snow from the path. they had already moved. i didnt go inside. i remember it anyway.#hard to go through summer when i will hear his name for an entire month. funny that i was born that month but it was your name.#there isnt a guide on grieving for your childhood best friend but i wish i had gotten something. no one ever talks so why would it change.#so rare we were all at dinner that night. sister couldnt reschedule her sat. missed the funeral. no one told me until the night before#classmates from ccd. didnt expect it. so rare to see boys cry. my first funeral. i didnt bring any tissues. no one told me to. how would i.#wish i had been there again. sitting in your kitchen swinging outside and in the basement. making potions. camping in the drive. sledding.#drafted a tag about going on swings with you again someday. realized it read verbatim my memorial for you. you have to come down.#when i get home ill find your stone wherever it is. ill leave you some coke and mentos. save me a seat for now.#long post#going to bed now. good night.#lee's bullshit
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When you were young, your mother used to read you an old fairytale every night before bed.
It was a sad story, about lovers who walked through hell to reunite with one another and almost succeeded, only to be separated again forever in the last moment. It made you cry, and the next night you would beg your mom to read it again.
"You know it'll be sad, right?"
"This time they'll win, mom! This time they'll have a happy ending!"
But they didn't. Nor did they win in the next night, or the night after that.
Deep down, logically, you knew it'll always end the same way. The story is done. It's been told long before you were born. But when mom was telling it, you could pretend that maybe this time it'll work out. This time will be different.
When you grew older you didn't stop pretending, even though you knew it was silly and getting sillier. When you learned to read and write, one of the first things you wrote was a new ending. It was bad, about you as an all-powerful angel coming down to help the lovers reunite and then you get invited to their wedding.
"It's not real, it's fanfic." a friend told you when you showed them. They explained the word, and you saw what they meant. But you didn't care, seeing the words on the page helped you pretend.
You read voraciously as you grew. All kinds of stories with all kinds of ending. But you kept coming back to that one. Reading from your mom's old copy which her read to her from.
You didn't need mom to read to you anymore, but sometimes you asked her to anyway. Occasionally she'd do it, but more often than not she was tired.
Soon she stopped reading. Then she stopped speaking altogether, her voice too weak and throat too sick to speak aloud. That's when you started reading the story to her.
It was hard at first, your tears choking you up. It was hard pretending that the story will end differently.
"The diagnoses are just estimates, probabilities." your dad said. And when he spoke, you could pretend there was a chance. But when the doctors spoke, their words felt as final and unchanging as the old words in the storybook.
Eventually, mom was no more. Your dad read something personal and touching in her funeral. Everyone thought you would, too. Everyone knew how much you loved writing since you were little.
You thought you would write too, imagined it in your mind as your mother's end drew near. You had so much to say, but the words wouldn't come out. The only words that would come to you were from the story. You tried to bat them away, but you knew you couldn't. You couldn't change this ending.
When it came your time to eulogize, you pulled out the book and without preamble started reading from the second-to-last page. This time there was no pretending.
Everyone knew the story, even the people who didn't know mom personally. Everyone knew it will end in tragedy. The lovers will not get a happy ending.
Except this time they did.
You didn't notice the change until you were halfway through the final page, so out of it you were. But the reactions from the mourning crowd clued you in. Your stoic dad choking down a chuckle.
You looked closely at the book and saw the words were written in your mom's neat handwriting.
You kept on reading, a smile on your face.
It wasn't the real ending. It was fanfic.
But just for a little while, seeing the words on the page helped you pretend a little longer.
#writing#flash fiction#microfiction#death#writing about writing#writblr#charles writes#long post#short story#sad
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ONE OF THE DAMNED GIRLS PT. 2 (P.SH)
Moving to a city with wild nights and charming days felt like the perfect choice in your head upon finishing college. Hours away from home, you accept a job at a local museum ironically placed dead between a large historic cathedral and a booming gothic nightclub. You were meant to curate the art, not be curated yourself by a local priest who found you with buckled knees outside of said goth club.
― part one | MINORS DNI
PAIRING ― vampire park sunghoon x afab reader
WORDCOUNT ― 21.8k
CONTENT ― modern vampire sunghoon, cathedral/chapel settings, blasphemous behavior, false holy facades, the main vampire trope i use is the act of drinking blood, luring, and living forever, heavy manipulation and toxic behaviors, mentions of reader being alt/goth
SIDE CHARACTERS― jungwon as your very very best friend who has an installation at the museum (you guys are attached at the hip), jay as the hot bisexual bartender at the goth club, some goth guy named balor
!WARNINGS! ― dubious consent (due to the act of mind manipulation), hunting and playing victim, a lot of blood: blood sucking, wounds/puncturing, menstruation in a sexual light, manipulation, near-death experiences, fainting, talk of death, acts of mind control/luring
NOTE ― you must read part one to understand the story. anyway i did not mean to go in so deep with jungwon, i just really fucking adore him please forgive me. anyway, this is briefly edited. if you see a typo, shhhhhh, i don't wanna know.
tags under cut
smut tags [ these tags refer to both parts of the fic] ― big meat sunghoon, biting, A LOT OF BLOOD, sucking and drinking of blood obv, pussy eating (once while reader is menstruating, and another time where she isn’t), deep penetration, rough sex, unprotected sex bc like…he’s dead so lmfao, missionary, scratching, dirty talk, body worship, praise, jungwon is involved in a bit of an erotic situation but there is not smut involving him,
other tags [ these tags refer to both parts of the fic]― depictions of death, anti-religious language, the act of dying including intense descriptions of the feeling, mentions of pimping and human trafficking, corrupt government, dead nuns, funerals
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
“My love, let me.”
You sit up only to be eased back onto the soft mattress. Pillows plush against your head as Sunghoon dabs away at each puncture he’s left on you.
“You know you can’t sit up so quickly, just rest and let me.”
You’re littered with his bites by now and you only grow more and more enamored with the feeling of it. Or, perhaps you just enjoy the fact that he’s fixated on drinking from you. Multiple times a day, until your fingers and toes are numb, until you can barely stand without dropping to the floor.
Enamored through all of it, really. With the way he bites so gently only to suck harder and harder until his fingers grip and pierce through your skin much like his teeth do. He’ll hold you so hard through it, forcing arousal to run through you every single time he goes for that artery in your thigh. You think that’s his favorite spot to bite, if the dozens of wounds there are anything to go by. Truly, you’re enamored with him, always wanting to give him more just so he stays with you longer.
You seem to have lost yourself in the lust of it all. The fantasy, the desire. On the brink of insanity, you know you’ve grown obsessed with what Sunghoon does to you, and it’s to the point that you don’t question yourself like you normally would. Your desire for this is too strong, far too intimidating to doubt.
But since that night, he always leaves you with blood against his lips. Aroused, frustrated, confused. Never once letting a hand stray too far, never letting his lips trace anywhere but to your wounds or new expanse of skin that needs to be bitten.
For days now you’ve been here. You lay here one full day since you were supposed to be back at work too, just waiting for the moment Sunghoon will do more than just drink from you. Mostly for a confirmation. It feels like you’re forcing yourself to go missing for this alone and every night you lie awake in this room waiting, wanting more from him now than you think you ever have.
The room you're in now is lonely, though adorned nearly as beautiful as the one you were in the night Sunghoon stole you away. You know the place you want to be is just down the hall, but your legs won’t carry you there no matter how much you try. He’s rendered you bed ridden and you miss it there, with his silk sheets and candle lit walls.
Then again, maybe it’s not the room at all that you miss. Maybe it’s just Sunghoon.
You can’t help but note that when he’s on you or next to you, there’s nowhere else you’d rather be. But when you’re alone, you feel your skin crawl with such immense anxiety that you nearly want to scream out for him to come back. Several times already you have called out for him mere moments after he’s left the room. It gives you hope in knowing that each time, he does return to you even if just for a moment.
All of it is very arousing when he comes to you, but it’s killing you inside to know that he does nothing more than feed off of you. You get nothing out of it but his presence, and perhaps he expects that to be enough. It’s driving you insane to give everything you have to him so willingly, knowing he hasn’t offered anything back to you.
The fact that you want this, you want him, and you want to be the only blood he craves? It’s a feeling you’ve had to accept, because trying to deny it at this point would only lead you down a more destructive path. As if the one you’re on now isn’t already killing you, if not physically, emotionally. You want to be the person lying in his bed again so badly. You want to show him that you’re no longer terrified. You want to give him equal arousal and interest.
But he doesn’t offer it. No, he simply bites.
“I can do it.” You say to him in a frustrated sigh. “I’m not helpless, you know.”
He’s taken aback by the way you rip the gauze from his hands, sitting up and scooting away from him when you dip it into the bowl of alcohol. Your head spins at the act, but you push through the weakness anyway, knowing he doesn’t like the distance you’re creating between him and you.
You don’t like the distance either, but it’s helpful to know he doesn’t ignore it.
“I’m aware.” Sunghoon narrows his eyes at the way your heart is beating for him right now, taking the gauze back from you and gripping your arm to pull you back and against him. “Why are you being difficult?”
He cleans a wound just under your jaw as he looks at you, waiting for you to answer him. You stare back as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world, not wincing at all like you previously had when he lets the alcohol burn the swollen punctures.
“Hah, so you can’t read minds?” You confirm for yourself, though you had the suspicion that he couldn’t. “You just keep doing this–” You continue, trying not to sound as if you’re nagging. “And nothing else.”
He tilts his head as he moves the gauze to another part of your neck, knowing full well what it is you want.
“Nothing else?” He repeats in a sly question. “Is there more you want?”
You nod slightly, feeling the cold alcohol send a shiver across your skin, your head finally clearing of the dizziness just from sitting up.
“Name it.”
Somehow, you lose the ability to ask for what you want. It feels silly to be mad that he hasn’t given you any sexual pleasure despite feeding off of you for days now. Is it insane that sex is all you want in return? Should you ask for financial compensation or something?
“Ah.” He answers for you with an all-knowing smirk, his nostrils flaring as he inhales your scent. “You want pleasure, yes?”
“Do you not?” You ask simply, and he pulls back with the gauze to look at you dumbfounded.
For a solid twenty seconds the two of you stare at each other before he’s dropping the gauze into the bowl and pulling you against him in full, turning your body so that your back is to his chest. His strong arms are still cold, but you feel warm enough against him like this.
“It pleases me to know you want it.” He smiles against the top of your head. “Unfortunately, I have other things to tend to.” He continues, pausing to hold you a bit closer. “I still have to feed, love, and I still need to maintain order here. I cannot just spread your legs every waking minute.”
You’re not asking for him to fuck you every waking minute. It makes you feel as if he’s annoyed to even use such words regarding this. Still, your cheeks warm at his sweet voice.
“As much as I’d like to.”
Oh. Your cheeks aren’t just warm, they’re on fire at those words. You’d grasp at anything right now, despite feeling like an afterthought. You don’t like that you’re not a priority to him, even though he fucking feeds on you consistently. To the point you can’t even stand for a full minute without fucking fainting from blood loss. Still, you accept his words and try to think of the positives over the negatives.
Unfortunately, you’ll never be satisfied with just his words and a mere ten seconds later you’re right back to questioning, doubting, and feeling upset.
So he can feed this often, but not even slip a finger into you through it?
Priorities. He has to feed, he said? Does he not already?!
“Wait, Sunghoon, you do feed.” You argue. “On me.”
He shakes his head at your ignorance of believing he’ll ever truly have enough of you. Even past death, he’ll never have enough. Which is precisely why you’re still breathing.
“There are needs I have that you’ve yet to understand. You satiate the hunger, yes, but that is nothing more than a feeling, not a truth.”
You try to comprehend his words but fall short. Only because that would mean–
“You’re becoming afraid again,” He comments on your heart rate. “Calm yourself, darling, the need within me is no fault of my own and I’ll continue to keep you from seeing the act take place.”
There’s silence from you as you try to calm yourself down. Of course he has to feed, but…is that not what he’s already been doing to you? Your heart isn’t racing from fear, it’s racing from–jealousy.
“So, mine isn’t enough?” You feel your heart shatter a bit when you voice it, knowing full well that for him to be full, he likely has to kill.
Why are you jealous? Well, if you’re so irresistible like he says you are, why does he hold back? Why are you still alive? Does your blood not taste as good as whoever else he’s been having at? Why does he keep you around, but no one else? Maybe they’re the ones who are irresistible, and you’re just a placeholder for if he can’t find his meal for the night. Maybe he’s just using you.
“Hmm.” Sunghoon thinks hard at your question. “You’re feeling envious?”
You don’t respond to him or the way he clocks your jealousy, and instead shake his grip off of you before grabbing the gauze yourself again.
He watches you take the material and dip it into the liquid, moving it down your legs and to the assault of wounds against your thigh.
“You’re truly strange.” He licks his lips at the sight of your thighs, listening closely to the artery you have there, always so hungry for more but knowing he need not drink for the time being. After all, he’s just eaten. “Almost as unnatural as I am.”
You have to force back a smile at the truth of his words though, softening at the way he compares you to him like the two of you fit together perfectly. The jealousy rages within you, but so does this strange adoration you have for him.
“To think I don’t crave you? Have I not shown you already?”
“Hmm, you might need to remind me.” You’re being playful now, trying to get what you want. Entirely thankful for the way he solves every problem you have with him in your head even if just for a moment.
You think you’ll always miss him on a deeper level than just sitting and speaking though.
“When can I leave the room?” You ask now, suddenly. “When can I come back to your room?”
Sunghoon doesn’t fight his own smile, loving the way you stay of your own free will, even while upset with him for not giving you more than that single night of love making.
“Not yet, love.” He mutters now, knowing that it’s not likely for you to be able to make it down the hallway without calling for his help, also knowing that he can’t give you what you want again so soon.
“Oh.” You look at him, face falling. “Let me guess, because you have better shit to do.”
“Still so envious.” He shakes his head with a laugh. “You’ll learn soon enough how I need you.”
Just, not yet.
After all, he drinks you until he has no choice but to stop. Multiple times a day, draining you until it’s near dangerous. The fact that you enjoy it drives him to do it more and more.
You think it’s easy for him to utilize self-control around you? You think he doesn’t want to experience you in every way you can offer? With those pretty sounds you make? God, he misses the way your body hugged his cock so much. You’re out of your mind to think he’s holding out on you because he doesn’t want it. Because you're not good enough? Stupid, stupid girl.
He needs it. He wants it. He’s fucking obsessed with what you do to him.
You’re truly not the only one trying to adjust to this situation. He has to be very careful with you, and having sex with you could very well break the resolve he’s forced into himself. A simple touch from you that feels too good could have him acting on a split second decision, drinking until you’re dead and cold, just like him.
Essentially, he has to train himself to your scent and taste. Sure, he’s been fucking nearly every victim since his cock started working again, but it doesn’t change the fact that he’d rather it be you. In fact, the only reason he’s fucking them is to satiate the need to destroy everything that you are for his own desire of having you.
The issue is that his drive to kill is insanely high, smelling you just down the hall makes every new victim taste better. It makes his cock fuck harder, it makes their bodies feel almost good enough for him to release. But they’re not you, and it’s rendering him unable to control himself.
His recent victims? Oh, it ends so gruesomely. He feels overheated in the moment, drenched, fucking feral when he makes his kill. Wishing it was you, ignoring the scent of the person beneath him just to smell you from a different room.
If he gets his hands on you when he’s in that state of mind again, you’ll be gone forever. That’s something Sunghoon wouldn’t be able to live with. Already he’s controlled himself through it once and that may very well have been the hardest thing he’s done in his life. He can’t promise that he can hold back again.
Until he can feed and fuck without feeling his instinct grab him by the throat, he cannot do more than small feedings with you. That alone is training all on its own, because every single time he feeds, he struggles not to take all of it.
Bit by bit. Sunghoon has to take you piece by fucking piece. And your willingness to do it, entirely awake and aware, makes it all the more difficult.
He can’t tell you this. Not yet, at least. You’d know the danger you’re in. Nor can he pretend like he will let you leave out of fear. He needs to keep this peace with you until he can truly enjoy you in a way that will ensure you’ll be alive and well after the fact.
And so, he changes the subject, grabbing you even tighter and hugging you in the way any modern boyfriend would. This. This is something he can handle.
“Are you bored of me carrying you across the room?” He asks. “Do you miss walking on your own two feet that much, if just to make it to my room?” He smiles now, making jokes with you that feel a bit dry when it hits your ears.
“Are you implying that I’m a slut?” You laugh at his attempt to make you smile, slapping against his cold arm playfully. “That the only reason I want to leave this room is to come into yours and fuck you?”
He shrugs from behind you, hugging tighter, wanting to be under your skin with that beating heart.
“Am I not right to assume? You little harlot.”
Well, he got you there.
And you laugh with him about it, living in your little fantasy world like this never has to end. Reality looms taller than Sunghoon does, unfortunately.
He can feel your heart rate pick up when your laugh slows down.
“But, Sunghoon, I can’t stay here for much longer like this.” You drop it on him like it’s the easiest thing in the world, and oh how he wishes you could just disappear with him. “I haven’t been home, my phone is there and I’m sure people have been calling.”
His eyes darken at your words as he pushes you from his grasp. Already you wish to leave? After complaining to him about what he doesn’t give you? Is that why you’re saying this right now? No sex means you’ll leave?
Serves him right for not using the pull on you. He should have kept hold of your mind rather than relish in your willingness.
“I’ve missed work already.” Your voice gets smaller as you watch him move from the bed and stand in front of you, the scent of cinnamon assaulting your nose along with his darkened and intimidating facial expression. “I– I’ll–come back. I promise.” You cower immediately.
Sunghoon shakes his head at you.
“Did I not make myself clear?” He deepens his voice, unsure of how to handle his own internal panic. “Never have I let a commoner leave this cathedral alive and knowing the truth.”
“Are you–threatening me?” You ask, scooting away from him and accidentally knocking over the bowl of alcohol with your foot.
“Did you not just say you envy the others? Envy dying by my hand?” He questions you back, looming over you in an intimidating stance. Suddenly much, much taller than reality. “Every time you’ve said you’d come back, you’ve done no such thing. Have I upset you this much?”
You frantically shake your head.
“No, no!” You lift your hands in defense, reaching out to his towering figure. “I want to be here with you! You just said yourself that you have things to tend to, so do I! If I don’t show up at work, or at least have my phone, people will have the fucking cops out and looking for me!”
Sunghoon softens, cinnamon air fading out within a second. He feels only slightly ashamed of his immediate outburst when all you can offer back to him is truth. Perhaps you’re the only one living in the real world, even if he’s been living in it for far, far, longer.
You’ve pulled him into a fantasy, just like he has for you. He truly let himself forget that you’re no victim that’s meant to die. You can’t just disappear without question, and already it has been days.
Still, you can’t just leave him.
“I see.” He says, reaching down to grab at the hands you have clinging to his clothes in an attempt to calm himself more than you. “Shall I retrieve your device for you then?”
You slowly nod, looking away from him and ignoring the fact that as much as you do want to be here with him, the fact that he just implied that you can never leave is a bit– um, intense. So, you don’t argue when you nod to him. If anything, to keep the peace.
“I’ll see to it that you have it in your hands by tonight. And in time, I’ll invite you back to my quarters.” Ending his sentence with a bribe to keep you here felt fitting, and he’s thankful for the way you accept it.
You nod quicker now, entirely satisfied with his words when he steps back and away from you.
“Now, please finish cleaning your wounds. I don’t want to taste infection in you.”
Despite feeling better about it, wanting him still, those words hurt you. You feel insulted by the time he leaves you alone in the room. Like if you got an infection he’d simply lose interest in you, or perhaps end this love of your blood he has.
He may even just go ahead and kill you if that were to happen.
It drives you to clean yourself twice over. Three times over. Unwilling to lose the feeling of someone biting you so gently, unwilling to die because your use to him has run out. And it feels like you clean yourself all day. To the point you’re probably making yourself more susceptible to infection rather than protecting yourself from it.
And in this room, time doesn’t exist. There’s a window indicating where the sun is in the sky, but hours and minutes are meaningless. Only when the sun is up do you start counting, knowing that Sunghoon will only visit you during nightfall.
You clean yourself for what you assume to be hours upon hours, all the way up until the sun falls and you hear the door creak open. You expect to see Sunghoon coming in for his routine of drinking from you, but instead, you find a pale-eyed nun rush to you with your phone and immediately leave after.
A quick presence is gone within a moment, but you pay no mind as you look down at your phone. You’re thankful for the fact that it’s probably been on the charger all four days you’ve been gone. Considering, well, there’s no electricity this high up in the cathedral, you’ll have to save your battery as best as you can.
So many missed calls.
Even more missed texts.
Dozens of emails.
Jungwon.
In the morning after you left your apartment, he checked in with you. All throughout the day too. It wasn’t until that same night where his texts became frantic. A little, “i’m coming over, fuck you if you get mad at me for it.” followed by “are you mad at me? why won’t you respond?”
You couldn’t help but chuckle at that.
Really though, it hurts your heart to have forgotten about him entirely during your time here. Reading through his texts, you see him fight with himself over your absence. Up until yesterday, where he texts you from the museum.
A glaring “stopped by again today only to realize your apartment was unlocked this whole time. i’m with your boss now, we are calling the cops if you don’t respond within the next ten seconds.”
A full day late, you respond quickly.
You: wonnie!!! i’m sorry! I got sad and went home to see my mom. totally ignored my phone…and forgot to lock the door i guess
You: you know, hormones lol
Immediate spam. Your phone vibrates aggressively back to back with his frantic texts.
Wonnie: you have to be fucking JOKING
Wonnie: NOT A SINGLE WORD FROM YOU. YOU COULD HAVE CALLED WORK OR
SOMETHING FROM SOMEONE ELSE’S PHONE. I WAS AT YOUR PLACE EVERY DAY.
Wonnie: i CANNOT believe you!!!!!!!!!!!
Wonnie: your whole ass apartment was unlocked and you weren’t there! anyone could’ve walked right in!!!!! are you stupid or something?
Wonnie: are you home now?
Wonnie: i’m so mad at you FUCK
Wonnie: i got so scared
Wonnie: im coming over
You panic.
You: wait, i’m not home yet. I didn’t mean to stay so long, I promise ill be home soon and fill you in on everything.
Wonnie: call your boss.
Wonnie: ill deal with the cops, then im gonna be waiting outside of your apartment
Wonnie: don’t ever fucking do that shit again, been crying all morning
Wonnie: i hate you so much right now, im never talking to you again
Wonnie: get your stupid ass back home
You smile fondly at his worry, but the smile is short lived as you know you probably can’t leave here. Not only from the fact that Sunghoon appears to be unwilling to let you leave but you…don’t want to.
Still, you do need to call your boss, and you make quick work of it. Sitting dissociated through the mindless scolding of your terrible lie of an excuse, and then the following call from the local police department.
Arguably, speaking to the police was easier than knowing you’ll have to lie to Jungwon again. At least the police are aware that you’re a grown woman who can disappear if she wishes. Jungwon, on the other hand, requires a little more care and consideration.
You’re tired by the time you lay your phone down, unable to keep your eyes open as you drift off.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Some time later, you wake to the same familiar scent of Sunghoon wafting from under your door. It doesn’t process yet in your brain that you’ve not smelled it since the night you wandered from your apartment. But now? Oh, it’s strong.
It’s very, very strong.
Your drowsy eyes look to the door as your legs carry you there, and out you go. Down the hallway, straight to those big doors, straight through those big doors.
The scent burns in your throat the moment you step inside, blurry eyes witnessing two figures right there on the floor. The only clear thing you can make out are his darkened narrowed eyes, only because your brain refuses to process the act taking place in front of you at first.
He looks…rabid. Hair is a mess, sticky and dripping with thick metallic liquid.
Oh, it sounds so loud. The squelching and the smacking of skin. Your stomach drops, the pit inside of it flourishing with nothing short of rotted desire.
Right there on the floor of his room lies a woman seemingly experiencing god. Sunghoon is moaning with his eye trained on your shocked figure. He ignores the woman’s aroused grasps against his arms to keep his eyes trained on you. And he just…smirks through it, licking his lips, rolling his eyes back only for them to fall right back to you.
The squelching rings in your ears as he moves faster, feverishly chasing a hunt he’s already got lying beneath him. Almost as if catching him in the act aroused him more than he already had been. Like he’s showing you how much more he’d prefer someone else over you.
He moans your name inwardly again and again, as if to call you forward to him but your feet can no longer move as you process the act with each call of your name.
He’s fucking her. He’s devouring her.
Not you. Her.
You can feel your heart shrivel at the act when you stumble back, a twisting pain in your chest that you feel silly over. You barely know Sunghoon, but somehow it feels like he’s given you more of himself than he has anyone else. He speaks that way to you, anyway. Always with the words of “I’ve never done this, until you.”
That was a lie. You’re seeing it now with your own two eyes and you’re paying for believing that you, somehow, could be special. And the pain in your chest travels all throughout your body at the fact that you let this man bite you. You let him take and take until you could barely stand, until you could barely think, until you were right on the cusp of death.
And you still want to do that for him. But now? He’s grown bored of you. Perhaps he intends to let this woman live too. Perhaps she’s silly enough to fall for a sweet vampire’s words too.
You stumble back more, forcing your legs to work with you rather than against you. It’s like your body has a mind of its own when he smells so welcoming. Cinnamon, spicy, sweet, painful cinnamon. Such a suffocating smell, easy to give in to and grow weak for. At least for you, that’s how it feels.
When you force yourself to turn around, only to continue stumbling down the hallway, your eyes work against you now too. You knew it would happen though and it’s not something you can stop. The burn and blur of tears prickling at the corners, your throat scratchy and sore.
You try to hold it in, feeling as if life is being suffocated out of you all the way down. Down, down, down. Past the nuns, past the beautiful and intricate interior, and straight out of the big front doors of the cathedral.
No goodbyes.
The breezy night air smacks you hard, forcing a sobbed breath out of you. You dry heave for a moment, squeezing your eyes shut so tight just to try and regain control of yourself and your emotions. The images behind your eyes flash back and forth. You’ve not just witnessed death, but the pleasure of death. Well, if he kills the woman, anyway.
And you still can’t fathom it. The way you feel, the way you’re reacting, the intense desire for death if it means Sunghoon wants you that badly. Never would you have guessed that a feeling so deeply terrifying exists. But it does, you’re witnessing it overtake the deepest parts of you right now.
Fuck, you didn’t want to leave but you did. And now here you are, freed from a grasp that you still want so badly.
Your lungs burn and your chest hurts more than the swollen puncture wounds all over your body. Everything is burning. It’s too, too, hot inside of your skin right now and there’s nothing more you’d rather do than to crawl out of it and freeze.
Still, you do your best to control the emotions within you. You take a short look around only to feel the head rush hit you now like it should have when you stood from your bed. Right, the blood in your body likely isn’t enough to keep you upright for long and you know you’ll likely not make it to your apartment in this state.
But you try. Your eyes are out of focus and your legs are clumsy as you try to walk. Down the sidewalk you go, until–
“Woah, little lady.”
You hear Balor’s voice echo in your ears. The sound of safety feeling so, so far away.
You can’t even thank him for it because your vision blurs more at the feeling of big, leather clad arms holding you upright, and then– you’re out.
You’re not sure how much time has passed by the time you’re able to hold your eyes open again, but when you do, Jungwon is here and so is that hot bartender you forgot existed. And as you try to comprehend where you are, you learn very quickly that you’re in the back room of the club with concerned eyes focused on..not your face, your body.
“Let’s get you home.” Jungwon’s concerned voice settles in your ears, and only now do you feel his warm hands soothing you against your shoulders.
“Or maybe a hospital?” Jay offers, also inspecting your skin and the weak state of your body as you try to sit up.
“No, no. I’m okay, really.” You say, immediately starting to cry out. “Please, just take me home.”
And so, home is where you go. Jay drives both you and Jungwon there with a kind voice and worried eyes. You see him make the attempt to hug you before leaving, but Jungwon is quick to stop him with a small shake of his head.
“Let me know when you’re feeling better.” Is all Jay says when he leaves, which, you’re sure he didn’t intend to leave but of course, Jungwon. You can see that he wants to be the one here with you and he insisted to Jay that he’s got you.
It heals your heart a little bit, but doesn’t change the fact that you’re embarrassed for not only Jungwon to be pulled into your mess, but Jay too?
You’re humiliated.
And by the time Jungwon has undressed and redressed you, ignoring the intense smell of alcohol against your skin for now, he’s immediately lying next to you, clinging to you really.
You’re aware of what he saw when he removed your clothes. You heard the breath he took in, you saw his confusion at how the clothes you had on were very much not from your closet. He’s going to ask, and you knew he would.
“You’re really cold.” He says in a cracked voice, gentle and sweet as he tries to warm you up. “You weren’t with your mom, were you?”
You weakly shake your head.
“You were with that guy you told me about before.” He says now, grabbing you tighter pretending he doesn’t know just how many wounds you have under your clothes. He can’t help but hold you tighter, even if it hurts you.
“What did he do to you?”
Your throat starts to burn as you cry again. You can barely process what’s happened yourself and explaining it to someone else only feels that much harder.
The pulsing in your head is too much, you can’t even think straight right now.
“It was–” You try to calm down, breathing in deep but avoiding eye contact. “It was consensual, don’t worry.”
Jungwon’s eyes narrow, staring at the deep bite marks on your neck. He’s quick to lift himself up, ripping your shirt up and off of you without so much as trying to be gentle. His panic is blatant and he’s entirely unable to hide how pissed off he is right now.
“No, it wasn't.” He dead-pans as he presents your own body to you, his voice coming out harsher than usual. “You’d be out of your fucking mind to think i believe that this was consensual.”
He glares at the swollen marks, unsure as to what to do with himself.
“Fuck,” He scoffs your name along with the curse, throwing his hands up. “Fucking look at them.”
You turn away from him now, wrapping your arms around yourself protectively in an attempt to not peer at what you wish you could have more of. You know what this looks like though, and you’re really trying to see things from his perspective.
But…It’s hard after everything you’ve witnessed yourself.
‘It was.” You say again. “I practically begged him to keep doing it.”
Jungwon falls silent as he counts. 1, 2, 3, 13, 25, 56, 72, still more.
“I wasn’t going to come home, you know.” You sigh out at the silence of his counting.
More silence.
“Was gonna stay and never leave.”
“What? Why?” He panics more at the admittance, dropping down over you and forcing your arms from yourself, trying to pretend he didn’t re-open some of your wounds by tearing your shirt off of you.
You can hear your best friend crying at the way you hide from him, all bloodied and bruised, but you keep your eyes closed even tighter. All he can do is lend you the entire weight of his body, enveloping you in all of his warmth and care, using his entire body to shield you from even the air in your room.
“What did he do?” Jungwon pleads for an answer with a cracked whisper. He needs context. Anything to explain the state of you right now.
“You wouldn’t understand.”
“What did he do?” He presses again, voice only cracking more as he cries along with you.
“It’s more so what he didn’t do.”
Silence again.
“What did he fucking do?”
You take in a deep breath, sighing out against your best friend’s fluffy hair, humming at his warmth and how much you’ve missed it.
There’s nothing you can say to make him understand, all you can do is try because hearing him like this is, arguably, just making it more painful.
“I just really liked him, and I guess he didn’t like me so much in the end.”
Jungwon chooses to take that at face value, opting to not let you out of his sight from this moment forward if he can help it. At one point with you, he was worried about being too clingy. Truly, he was afraid he would annoy you by attaching himself. Never has he grown so close to a person so fast and never has he gained such comfort within someone else’s bubble like he does with you. The comfort is still there, but no longer does he give a single fuck about clinging too much. You clearly cling too.
If you cling enough to let a man abuse your body like that, you’ll be able to handle him clinging just as much, enough to care for you, and enough to not fucking leave your side. He’s not going anywhere, and there’s not a damn thing you can do about it.
After all, he’s not stupid, but he’s willing to act as dumb as you need him to if it means you’ll let him keep you within arms reach. In his head, there’s no way you fell into something with someone who could do this to you without reason, and it appears it’s not a question he’ll get a clear answer from you any time soon.
It doesn’t matter if his installation will come to an end at some point. He can’t just leave you here when there’s some strange man running around biting the fuck out of people like a rabid dog. Abusing his best friend? No. He won’t have it and he doesn’t care if he has to force you to accept his protection.
He can’t do much for you, but he’s willing to at least be here with you.
“Hey, it’s okay.” Jungwon soothes you, clinging tighter just to feel some of those reopened wounds bleed onto him. His voice is a stark reminder that there’s more to feel in your body than just pain. “I won’t let him near you again, okay?”
You nod, still crying as you cling back, trying to ignore the images in your head of Sunghoon.
“Okay.” You lie, missing him too much already, the faint scent of cinnamon still in your nose.
And you fall asleep like that. Warm.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
You hate calling it an “escape.” You carried yourself out of that beautiful cathedral against your body begging you to stay. Still, even now with Jungwon clinging so warmly at night, you wish you had never left.
Even the pain of seeing what Sunghoon does behind your back, the jealousy that came with it, you would have stayed if only to prove your worth to him. Being so close to death is exhilarating, and you find yourself feeling entirely empty and void of any emotion that brings joy because of it.
This isn’t depression, nor is it simple envy. This sadness within you sinks lower than you thought possible, so deeply rooted within you that you feel death itself couldn’t even allow a safe escape. After all, if vampires are real, who's to say you won't end up as a tormented ghost forever searching for a man who can never die?
Damned if you live, damned if you die, so to say. You can’t have Sunghoon either way, you can only have him while suffering.
And oh, how you miss the cold. You miss his cold. You miss the fear too. You miss the way he’d laugh with no breath against you and drink from your thighs like he needed more. You miss the way your wounds would pulse in pain and lend little reminders of the teeth that pierced them. Even now, they’re healing so well.
And it still hurts.
It hurts to know he said, while holding you, that he craves you. That he very much wants you but has things to tend to. The fact that he needed to tend to fucking other women while drenched in their blood? Things to tend to.
Because to Sunghoon, real life women, breathing women, are minimized to things to tend to.
Fucking vampires.
It’s been a week now since you left and it hasn’t gotten easier. During the week, Jungwon hasn’t so much as let you shower without the bathroom door open. You guess that’s fair.
Still, it has only been a week. A week of everything moving fast, a week of Jungwon, a week of slow and dreadful acceptance, and a week of smelling nothing but faint, ever so slight, cinnamon.
By now you know it’s him. Like he’s truly dug his claws into you and doesn’t intend to let you forget all that he took from you. Always that fucking smell, from the first night you met him until now. Yet he is nowhere to be seen, even when you stare at the cathedral after the sun goes down.
No one has left. No one has gone inside.
Part of you even found yourself worrying if he’s eaten. Hah. Funny.
Still, you’re forced to live in reality now. Nothing but healing wounds, meaningful days, and reminders that you let yourself fall as quickly and painfully as possible.
You’re entirely dissociated, as if you’re gliding rather than walking, as if each day passes in a second rather than a twenty four hour time span, as if you’re truly empty now and not filled with the blood you thought meant so much.
Somehow, you find comfort in the emptiness though. Jungwon fills the space as best he can too. He always accepts your rejections of going to update Jay at the club just to sit between your legs on the living room floor and try to make you laugh through silly faces riddled with concern.
You assume he’s in contact with Jay anyway, letting him know that you’re not quite dead yet.
The days blur together now, up until two weeks pass, three weeks, four, five weeks.
Thankfully, by the fifth week, it’s gotten easier. Each day you just have to remind yourself that you can never forget Jungwon again like you did before. He’s the one who helped you through this, and to think you’d ever make him go through this again is insane. In fact, he’s the reason you finally feel good inside again.
He’s like medicine, which is cringe and lame as fuck to say but it’s true. Internally, he’s made you feel better. Yet, right beside all those happy warm feelings lies everything else. Distress, sadness, anxiety.
They still seep out of you too. Every night, really, after the daytime wears off and Jungwon runs out of things to distract you with.
“Why do you have to look at me like that?” Jungwon says sweetly, sprawled out on your bed in his pajamas as he watches you pace around your room. “I swear, it’s like everything I say to you goes through one ear and out the other.”
You pause in your step, sad eyes reaching his face.
“I already told you I’m not going home.” He repeats himself for what feels like the thousandth time to you. “I’m still getting paid, I have enough to last me if you let me stay here before finding work.”
After all, it’s not like Jungwon has anything to go back home to. Save for an annoying sister who probably wanted him to move the fuck out of her space anyway. He’s the last person on this earth to be afraid to up and move out with a near stranger.
You’re not so much a stranger to him though, and the need to be by your side far outweighs anything else right now.
“Yeah, but, eventually.”
Never have you been one to worry about fleeting time. Never until you met that dead motherfucker. You worry about not what is happening, but what will happen. The inevitable. You no longer welcome it.
It’s not death that brings the anxiety though, it’s just…the clock.
With the ticking, the tocking, and the changing of seasons. Everything lasts both too long and not long enough. At this moment, the fear is Jungwon leaving at some point in your life. For any reason at all, really.
He’s been by your side since you found your way back to him. A nuisance at times, yes, but you’re attached. To an unhealthy degree, you are fucking attached to him at the hip. He’s your only grounding force on this earth and you think he’s picking up on it.
To the point he’s offered to drop his entire life an hour away just to stay for you.
Yes, Jungwon recognizes how toxic and unhealthy the friendship has become, but he doesn’t know what else to do. He can’t just leave, nor does he want to. Even if he’s the one who leaves to get your mail, he’s the one who cooks, and he’s the one who holds you close at night, reminding you that time doesn’t have to mean a damn thing if you try hard enough to forget about the man who doesn’t experience it at all.
There’s no way you can get through a single day without him right now, and the thought of having to do it in the future scares you.
You know it’s pathetic. You know you have no right to keep him in a box next to you as a comfort, you know he’s still got a life to live and romance to find. But…you hate it.
“Eventually what?” He quirks a brow at you, having been concerned for you and the shift in your entire personality yet again tonight. You’ve changed for the worse, and it terrifies him to see you act so gone.
“You’re gonna leave me here alone.” Your voice is small, cracking when you say it only because you hear the words ring in your ears.
A pathetic whine, as if you’re speaking to someone else and not Jungwon. You’re not you anymore. No, you’ve become obsessed with the looping memories and feelings that took a mere four days to fall in love with.
Addicted to emptiness but begging for Jungwon to forever be the crutch you stand on.
You’re selfish and you have no fucking right to do this to him.
“Hey…” He rolls out of bed and steps up to you, easily putting a soothing hand against your shoulder. “Do you want me to stay?”
You nod. Knowing this same situation happens nearly every night. You panic, he soothes. You beg, he reminds you that he’s the one who offered in the first place. You ask him to stay, he confirms by asking you to let him.
And to him, he knows this is anything but a romantic partnership. You very much need someone here who is willing to play dumb but remain hyper aware. He wants to be this person for you because of his own selfish reasons too.
It’s not all for you.
For one, he wants the girl back that he met last month. Secondly, he wants to see you learn and grow, because he knows you have a long and beautiful life ahead of you (and he better be fucking part of it.) And lastly, he’s never felt needed like this and there’s something in him that craves to be important too.
It’s not too difficult for Jungwon to find people that’s important to him. Really, it never takes much. Perhaps someone held the door open for him, he’d probably jump in front of a bus for that person not two seconds later. But to feel just as important to someone else?
He needs to be here with you. As toxic as it may seem to outsiders, Jungwon sees nothing wrong with being the person you need simply because you’re the person he needs too.
“Then stop saying stupid shit.” He mopes now as he pulls you back to your bed and holds you much like he always does, trying to lighten the mood. “You’re always okay at work, but I swear the second we come home you’re falling apart.”
You freeze, falling apart instantly.
“I wish you’d tell me what happened.” He says now, jumping into the typical routine of calming and soothing you. “I don’t know what to do when you get like this.”
You wish you would tell him too.
But if he knew, that hope of ever seeing Sunghoon again would crumble. Already, Jungwon swears to you that he will never let this happen to you again. But you want it to, so, so badly.
Even if you’re taking advantage of his care by letting him treat you like a child who can’t escape a tantrum, he really flipped his whole life because you chose to live in a crisis.
You chose to do this to yourself and to Jungwon.
Finally, you look up at him with your fingers gripping him.
“I ask so much from you.” You sniffle when you say it, immediately calming yourself and feeling like a fucking idiot for doing this. “I feel like I’m going insane.”
He nods.
“You kind of are.” He confirms for you. “And you have to talk about it eventually, it’s just going to keep hurting if you don’t.”
He’s right. He’s always right.
And like always, every single time you imagine how you’ll tell him, nothing in your brain can form a sentence. But you do try and by now, accustomed to your pain, you feel like something needs to be said before he grows tired of you too.
“I don’t know why, but I wanted him to kill me so badly.”
Saying it out loud doesn’t feel as good as you wanted it to, not with the way Jungwon’s face immediately contorts into panic.
“Wha-”
“But he wouldn’t do it.” You shake your head, refusing eye contact. “He’d do it to everyone else, but not to me.”
“Wait, what?”
Maybe choosing to say that of all things was a mistake. After all, you did appear stumbling down the street near death already. Jungwon isn’t going to take what you’re saying lightly and you were stupid to believe otherwise.
“Have you ever smelled cinnamon?” You continue, trying to skew the conversation from his panic.
Jungwon is flipping his shit trying to make sense of your words. You wanted this guy to kill you? Well, he damn near fucking did and even now, while he’s not around, you’re practically dead already in terms of everything but breathing. And what the fuck do you mean he’d do it to everyone else?!
Are you referring to an emotional death? Trying to make this shit sound poetic? Or did you really want to die?
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Jungwon’s voice is stern but shaky. “Kill you how?”
You shake your head.
“I don’t know.” You offer, knowing you’re just making it worse. “I wanted him to want me that badly.”
Jungwon drops his arms from you to pull back, dead-pan staring at you because he doesn’t know what to do or say to that. He forces himself to think of the reality of the situation. You’re just being poetic. You’re just being dramatic.
He’s the same way when someone hurts him too, but still. Using such heavy words scares him, and he can’t just sit here and tell you it’ll be okay anymore.
“But he doesn't.” Jungwon musters up the courage to say it, knowing you’re going to cry. “This weirdo literally tried to eat you alive, and he still doesn’t want you.”
And you do cry again.
“And now, you’re letting him kill you anyway?” Jungwon scoffs. “You’re begging me to stay here with you, just so I can watch you not even make an attempt to fucking get over it?”
You know he’s telling you what you need to hear, doesn’t change the fact that you don’t want to hear it. The only thing you want to hear is Sunghoon and his lying words, telling you that Jungwon is full of shit.
The worst part about it is that, it’s not even that you’re suicidal. You’re not. You like being alive. You’re just…you don’t know. You don’t fucking know why you wanted and still want Sunghoon to kill you.
Perhaps it’s because it would mean he needs you that much.
But he doesn’t need you, you’re not irresistible.
And that hurts you. That man fucking slithered into your heart and made a nest there. You can’t get him out no matter how much you try.
“He broke up with you. You were together for like, what? A few days?” Jungwon minimizes the situation unintentionally, panicking at the way a person he’s grown so close to has managed to be utterly fucking ripped apart by a singular man. “He broke up with you. That’s it. It’s time to stand up and move on, there’s better people out there that–”
“No.” You shake your head. “I broke up with him, I guess, if you can call it that.”
Jungwon softens, tilting his head. Now he’s getting somewhere.
“Why, then? Why did you break up with him when you didn’t want to?” Still, Jungwon is glad you chose to. Clearly you’re not as absent minded as you pretend to be. Seeing how littered your body was with pain, you knew you needed to leave, right? You weren’t really just going to let this guy wither you away, right?
“He was with someone else.”
Jungwon shakes his head in pity.
“What a scumbag. A total freak.”
“But like, he needed to do it, I guess.” You try to explain without truly explaining. “I got mad and left because he was doing something he needed to do with someone that wasn’t me.”
“He needed to cheat on you? Are you hearing yourself?” Jungwon questions, throwing his arms up. “He’s a nympho, babe, he probably manipulated the fuck out of you to make you think this way.”
And at that, you give up on talking about it. You feel too tired to continue.
“I guess so.” You whisper out with a shrug, sniffling up the tears.
“He doesn’t deserve you. You can’t just…die for people.” Jungwon says, realizing that even he doesn’t follow his own advice. He’d probably die for you himself, but not because he craves it.
He’ll never understand why you wanted this man to “kill” you. In whatever way you meant, no one is worth owning that much of you.
Jungwon hums though, knowing you’re tired now. He isn’t exactly being as soothing as he’d like to be right now but never has he seen a person act like this over a break up. Cheating hurts, of course, but you barely knew this guy. There’s no way there isn’t something else going on for you to say such insane fucking things.
“You must’ve lost your damn mind to let someone do that to you.” Jungwon says against your hair, his soft voice not matching his words in the slightest. “I can’t believe you said that.”
“Me either.” You admit, feeling the insanity bubbling in your stomach and hating it.
Still, the scent of cinnamon.
“Do you smell it though?” You ask now, voice even weaker.
Jungwon inhales deeply, releasing his breath with all of the frustration in his gut.
You feel it fan across your cheek warmly, minty, and you smile.
“Cinnamon?” He asks, remembering your question from before. “Yeah, sometimes I can smell it.”
You smile bigger now.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Another two weeks pass, only this time you are coming back to yourself. Which is strange, really. You were beginning to think you’d never feel like a person again after the first month passed. Then, within another few weeks you’re almost entirely back to yourself.
You’re still a bit dissociated, which is likely due to the trauma of what you experienced and put yourself through but thankfully, the ticking-time spans you grew to hate forces itself now to be your new form of comfort. With each passing second, hour, day, and week, you’re slowly able to not forget, but accept and move on.
Still, you know it’s going to fuck you up for years to come. You’ll always have the feeling of emptiness deep inside no matter how much the space shrinks. You have no choice now but to try and fill your life and time with things and people who matter to you. At least this way, you know that you matter too.
And with this time spent away and healing, the scent has faded too. You can even go to work now without holding your breath or your eyes being forced to look at the source of the smell. In fact, you avoid taking even a glimpse of the looming cathedral. You don’t keep cinnamon in your apartment now either. You don’t take it with any of your beverages or food items, and you certainly shouldn’t be smelling it in the air anymore.
Sometimes it’s still there though, turning your stomach in a way that’s both needy and sick. You still miss him and the feeling of ice, but you know better now. Why give up the ability to breathe without your throat burning? Why give up being a person that Jungwon actually wants to be around now?
After all, you’ve started feeling so much better to the point that even he feels okay leaving you alone from time to time. Showers are back to being private, you can check your own mail, and a few times you were even able to go to work without him trying to force his way inside like his installation was still sitting on display.
Which, it isn’t, by the way. Your boss had his name and face blacklisted, but still on most days he waltzed in like he owned the place. Every single time buckling the knees of your boss, every single time being allowed to stay.
Thankfully, push came to shove and he landed himself a job there with you, his employment became official just today, actually. And as professional as the place was for you when you approached with your resume, it’s definitely not professional at all. They did pay Jungwon under the table several times just for doing shit you were supposed to be doing.
The point is, even if Jungwon wasn’t able to make the effort to keep good on his word regarding moving into your apartment to stay beside you, he still likely would have pushed to at least work with you.
Thankfully, he gets to do both those things.
And despite the fact that he feels okay leaving you alone from time to time, there’s still an immense amount of anxiety about being away from you for too long. He knows that in time, it’ll pass and the two of you can live both near each other and apart, but for now? Might as well call him your husband because there’s no way in hell he’s gonna be doing his own thing without you.
That leads to now. The same day Jungwon secured his employment, the same day you made it through without a single breakdown, the same night Jungwon needs to actually go back home to move his shit into this apartment with you.
“Come with me.” Jungwon comments, but you know it’s more of a demand. “You can meet my sister, just ignore if she makes jokes about us dating or something.”
You laugh. Genuinely, you laugh.
“Jokes? We both know you’re in love with me Jungwon. I’m just waiting for the ring at this point.”
He laughs with a shrug, knowing he probably would marry you at this point, if just to protect you from all the people who wouldn’t care for you as much as he does.
“Really though, come with me?” He asks again. “I’m still a little worried about leaving you here.”
“You’ll be back in the morning,” You start, trying to calm him down. You genuinely do feel okay right now. “I’ll just be sleeping the whole time, I'm tired anyway.”
Jungwon nods fondly, aware that it’s only practical that he make the move during the night hours. After all, his sister won’t be home otherwise and he does miss her. It’s true that you’ll probably just go to bed and he’ll be back before you even wake up tomorrow.
Still.
“You could just sleep in my old ro–”
“Wonnie.” You walk up to him and grab his face with both hands. “I’m fine.”
He smiles at you, always loving the way you do your best to reassure him even through your worst breakdowns. You’re not breaking down right now though, and he can’t help but believe every word you say when you’re looking at him like this.
“I swear to god if I come home and you so much as have a single bite mark on you, I’m burning this fucking city to the ground.”
You roll your eyes, the memory stinging only a little bit. By now though, you’ve almost entirely forgotten how it felt in the first place.
In fact, you’re shocked by the way you acted after leaving. So outside of yourself. Truly, you think you were going insane and Jungwon was right to confirm that for you. You’re lucky you had him here with you, because you likely would have ran right back into that fucking cathedral and–
Yeah. You would have done something dramatic.
You didn’t though. And sure, you now know vampires exist or whatever but Sunghoon has not bothered you even once since you left. You hope he’s simply moved on so that your resolve doesn’t break. Jungwon worked so hard to make you feel better, and you worked just as hard. You can’t just feel bad that you don’t remember what Sunghoon’s fangs felt like against your skin.
If anything, you hope Sunghoon is freaked out by you leaving and knowing his secret. Maybe he thinks that if he tries to approach you again, you’ll tell everyone about what he is and what he did. Not that it would end with him in jail or anything. You’d probably end up in an asylum, actually, but still.
And to Jungwon’s threats of arson, you simply pinch his cheek, being sure to sit your thumb right in his dimple.
“Strictly no vampire kinks.” You smile at him, crossing both of your arms in front of yourself to create an X.
“Good.” Jungwon nods back as he puts on his shoes and heads for the door. “Call me if you need anything, I’ll keep my volume turned up. You’ve got Jay’s number too, he can be here quickly if it’s an emergency.”
He feels content knowing that you’re about to be stuck with him for as long as he can manage. It’s just one short trip back home. A mere six or seven hours spent away while he packs the shit his sister probably “forgot” to box up for him, loading up the rented van, and then unloading it here.
It’s just a short trip. You’ll be sleeping through it anyway.
And when he’s gone, you feel tired. Keeping good on your promise of going to bed almost immediately. The feeling of being alone for the night is a bit uncomfortable, so sleep comes easy as a means to escape the inevitable over-thinking you’d probably do otherwise.
No overthinking.
It’s just a short trip.
Jungwon will be back before you wake up.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Ah, to think it’s over.
To think he’d leave you be? To think he wouldn’t be looming around every corner watching, waiting? If it weren’t for Jungwon, these weeks wouldn’t have passed so easily for you, that much is certain.
As if they were easy for you to get through at all. Jungwon, the very person who got you through it, was the reason he stayed away, the reason you were able to heal.
Jungwon was the ward.
Was.
Deep in your sleep it’s like your body knows. The same scent fills your nose just seconds after your sleep brain feels the goosebumps spread across your skin. Instantly, you wake up and back to insanity you go
You truly wake up.
Your legs aren’t being carried by any force other than you own, and your mind is crisp and clear in your thoughts as you jump out of bed.
Not walking, running to your apartment door. You swing open the door and don’t even look at him before slamming your entire weight against his chest and clinging like a lost child. You can feel the familiar cold fear filling your body, knowing that if he truly wanted to, he could kill you right now.
All of the progress you made burns away within seconds. You’ve never felt so elated to ruin your own life.
Even when he pushes you away, nothing at this moment could make you let him go. He’s here, he’s standing right there. Your fingers grip as he pushes you back in silence, stretching his garment out far beyond the bounds of which it was sewn to withstand. It rips, and still he shoves you further back from him all while stalking forward.
Walking you back into your apartment, just to let the door slam behind him as he stands with a narrowed gaze fixated on you.
You glance up at him only for a moment, loving the crazed look in his eye. Adoring that he must have missed you to appear so full of life like this. You can only compare his eyes now to the same eyes you saw when you ran away from him.
As if they were burning on you. Or perhaps, for you?
He’s dangerous, your body feels it instantly and all you can do is lean into it.
“That’s all it took for you to leave me?” Sunghoon bellows out in a spiteful voice, the sound sending pleasant shivers down your spine. “Had your blood boiling over some minx? I told you I didn’t want you witnessing it.”
You soak in his voice like it’s your last supper, missing it so badly, adoring it even more. He speaks as if weeks haven’t passed, as if it’s a mere hour after you ran from him. You move forward to cling again, unable to think of words to say and opting to show how much you regret leaving through your actions.
Still, he pushes you away from him. A bit harder this time, to the point you almost topple over onto your back. You keep your balance only because it feels like you’re fucking floating just looking at him right now.
“I tried to pull you back to me, why did you fight it so hard?” He continues to fuss, as if he’s been thinking over and over again about all the words he wants to spit at you. Like he’s punishing you, and yet still struggling himself not to cling back. “Never has your aroma been so empty, so faint.”
You’re in shock but your body yearns for him, thankful to go back to square one. Like you’re special. Like you meant something enough to him that he’s here looking like he may give you what you’ve wanted all along.
“Countless women. Countless men. Never you, and now you manage to hide from me?” His hand shoots to your neck, pushing you back further into your apartment. “How?” He grips dangerously tight as he continues to spew his breathless words. “You masked yourself with that– that floral boy, didn’t you?”
You listen to his spiteful words like your favorite song, falling into each vibration of his vowels and consonants. Never has he spoken so much, and never have you heard his voice waver the way it is now. You can’t help but follow his movements with a smile on your face, swallowing through this tight grip on your throat.
“You cannot fathom how hard it was to stop. Do you understand how much I want to fuck every last drop out of you? You should be thanking me.”
Oh, you’re so proud. So, so, fucking proud. The glee runs through you at his needy words, even if you know better. He’ll always feed on people who aren’t you, and he’ll always probably fuck them too.
But does he show up at their house? Does he grow frustrated with them like this too?
“Did you kill her when you were done?” You ask out through his choking hand, so confident that it makes him freeze on the spot.
He’s genuinely shocked that you’re not scared. You’re not intimidated. You don’t feel bad. No, you feel proud of being hunted. Like you take enjoyment out of his suffering, much like he does for you.
On his part, it’s not intentional. You have to suffer to be next to him.
Never has a person made him suffer too though. Fucking never would he have allowed it. God, he’s infatuated with you, utterly obsessed.
“Of course I killed her.” Sunghoon admits with his brow rising up, feeding into your ecstatic reaction of his death grip on you, only gripping tighter now. “Does that please you?”
You’ve never been happier.
And he moans out at the way you shyly nod, seemingly experiencing euphoria at his admittance of murder. Oh, if only you knew how good you smelled that night. Blood pumping for him, blood boiling in emotion for him. The woman didn’t last more than a minute after you left him. He couldn’t resist at that point.
Seeing you, smelling you, fucking someone who he wished could have been you.
He’s not prepared at all for this, for you. So willing, wanting what he’s trying to avoid doing to you.
That’s why he’s here though. Unprepared, but unable to resist any longer. He has pulled and pulled, every single day trying to lure you back to him against your will. He thought he was going to have to take you tonight against your wishes.
But your eyes are sparkling for him.
“No one’s heart has ever beat quite like yours when looking at me.” Sunghoon whispers now, falling and spiraling into this moment with you, losing his composure entirely. “So loud, each pump fucking gushes.”
“And I'll chase it every time.” He continues to ramble in a way that sounds like he’s in physical pain, like the amount of time you’ve stayed away from him genuinely hurts him.
You still can’t respond though, your words are caught up in your throat right where his hand squeezes and you couldn’t even if you wanted to. He knows it too, and he didn’t intend to let you answer anyway because genuinely, he’s fucking losing himself.
His hungry lips chase forward near instant after saying those words to you, not biting, just kissing. Tasting you rather than the blood that drives him.
Because for some reason, that’s what he craves right now.
“I beg.” He cries out against your tongue, relishing in the feeling of your life clutched in his hands, not even sure himself of what he’s begging for.
“Sunghoon,” You choke out his name with a gentle voice, pulling back from his bruising lips and throwing your arms up around his shoulders. “I bet you could smell my heart shatter too.”
He moans at the strained words first and the out of body experience you lend to him second. His soul is always trapped within this dead skin, but you ascend him.
Here, standing with his hands on your throat, you hold him? You say sly, mocking words? Oh, he can give you the world. He can give you anything you want. He can be whatever you want. Never has a person had this hold on him, and never could another person be able to do what you do.
He can’t just let you go. He tried already. He’s supposed to be the one with the ability to hunt, lure, and pull. How is it that you do it to him? Your blood alone does it. The fact that all you need to do is exist within the same city and he’s ripping his bedroom walls apart wanting to get at you? He needs you.
No. You’re not going anywhere this time. He’ll give up the taste of your sweet blood if he has to. The taste of your wet tongue is enough to satiate him by this point. The feeling of your neck beneath his hands, your pretty eyes urging him to strangle the life out of you.
He’d do it too. All you’d have to do is ask. He would do anything for you at this moment, no matter the cost. He will take anything you offer.
“Oh–” He groans first, licking his lips. “I could almost taste it.” His eyes darken more, somehow, as he leads you through the apartment. All the way until that same gaze causes your legs to buckle. He can’t help it by this point, after all, he knew coming here would end up this way.
There’s no self control when his hands release your neck, your buckled legs forcing you to fall against the floor, and he gladly topples with you. His hands immediately shoot to either side of your head, holding himself up just so he can dip down and inhale you.
Fuck, he missed the way your skin smells more than he remembers. And trust, missing you was a daunting experience for him before he got here.
He inhales all over you, again and again. He trails his nose against both sides of your neck, up your cheek, into your hair, down to your neck again.
“So delicious.” He moans mindlessly. “Never have I missed someone so terribly.”
“You were with someone else.” You continue your confident scolding with a scoff, only because of the way he’s losing himself on you. This is all you could ever want and reminding him of why you left feels elating.
“My love,” He starts, speaking right up against your ear as one of his hands trails from your cheek to your waist. “My loyalty to your life is what I offered.”
Goddamn the confidence running through you smells stronger than anything he’s ever experienced. As if you didn’t already drive him to do things he never once considered. Oh, now? With you like this? He would die ten times more for you and you alone, if he could, anyway.
“Do you not recognize that I would have drained you to death, if I didn’t want you here with me?”
He lifts his head now, looking at you with so much adoration.
“You’re not a simple meal, when will you understand that?”
And when you snicker at his desperate praise, he cannot fucking control the feelings within him.
“Your little floral friend is going to be devastated,” He admits with a rumbled voice, alluding to the inevitability of him coming here tonight. “You’ve begged me for this, and now I’m begging you.”
You pause, feeling the butterflies in your stomach release in a deep breath.
“Die for me.” Sunghoon whispers, dragging that same wandering hand straight between your legs and dipping into the wet heat he’s been missing so badly. No blood, just thick, hot, wet slick. “I beg.”
You can barely comprehend his words through that ice cold feeling of his fingers pressing into you. He hums in the silence, looking straight into your eyes with the question. He’s very aware of the weight behind it too.
“My love, please.” He continues, losing composure by the seconds as he feels how warm your wet walls are hugging his fingers. “Not in a thousand years have I wanted someone more than you.”
He continues pressing his fingers in, moaning himself at how good it feels, only to feel your moan fan against his cheeks in turn. It’s something that drives him only further from the self-control he fought so hard to keep. That warm breath represents the life within you that he intends to snuff out. If at all, to keep you forever.
“And not for a thousand years more–” He’s starting to babble, his once clear thoughts racing at being surrounded by everything that is you. “Please.”
And his fingers only quicken with his thoughts, rendering you unable to answer even if you tried. The idea and confirmation in his head of not truly killing you drives him wild. It would be death, nonetheless, but not true death. For weeks he has suffered over the thoughts, always telling himself that he would never fate someone to a death such as his own.
But you, oh you. The sublime blood within you pulled him harder than he believes he pulled you. Never in his thousands of years has he experienced such a thing, nor did he know such blood existed within a person. It drives him to feel for you. To adore you. To be entirely enamored with the fact that you have shattered him from within at both the thought of losing your blood, but wanting to take all of it.
Still, he craves the taste of you to such an extent that you truly will die tonight, whether it’s against your will or not. It’s too late for him to reason with himself, feeling your walls wrapped around his fingers, seeing you act so mischievous towards his antics from before. At this point, just a blink of time compared to how long he’s lived, the decision is clearer than anything he thinks he’s ever had to choose.
If he can’t have all of your blood, you’ll waste it on a death not nearly as beautiful as he can offer.
If he can have all of your blood, perhaps he doesn’t have to lose you along with it. After all, it’s not just the blood at this point that makes him feel like a blood-drunk beast. No, no, no. It’s everything that is you. Your skin, the secretions of your body, the way your hands grip and the way your eyes blink. Blood-drunk, yes, but more so just drunk on you.
He can settle without the breath and without the blood if you’re willing to share meals with him for the remainder of time this earth has in the universe.
Sunghoon’s mind is racing at the thought. Working too fast for him to focus on everything at once, but he tries. Tucking his fingers deep, nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck and inhaling as deeply as he can.
You’re feeling like you’re on top of the world in the way he falls apart on you, unable to comprehend that this is actually happening. Every word he’s said to you rings in your ears as if it were spoken in a language you can’t understand. With his fingers working you open, with his lips on your skin rather than his fangs…
You feel…different. Like he feels differently.
And you can’t stop yourself from basking in the thought that he killed that woman. What was once jealousy that he didn’t want you enough to kill you has twisted and morphed into the thought that he kept you alive because he couldn’t stand not having you.
Every whispered word confirms it, and still you can’t comprehend fully what it is he’s trying to say.
So, you focus and try to comprehend the feeling in your body that he’s offering instead. You have yearned for this cold within you. Missed it so badly you went insane.
To think you’d ever truly get over him is arguably more insane than wanting him to kill you at all.
“Did you hear me?” He whispers against your ear, shoulders shifting with each plunge of his fingers, other hand clinging to your waist so tightly, almost pulling you to him. “You could be beside me,” He moves his lips across your neck, resting his lips against the moan you let out. “Forever.”
Oh, it clicks.
And just as it clicks, he can hear your heart rate gushing the same blood he intends to take from you in full. Gushing, rushing through each vein and valve within you. Oh, he could truly devour you whole with how you’ve deprived him of this. He could leave not a trace of you left for the world to remember, but no. That would be worse than the beheadings that haunt his nightly visions.
The sound of it rushing through you, god, it makes him feel like a mad man. He can’t help but prevent your timid answers in the midst of red hot desire. He pulls his hand out of you, spreading his palm against your healed thighs instead and spreads your legs out wide from under him.
He’s quick to move down. No kissing, no biting, nothing like what he wants to do. He needs to satiate his desire somehow, and he doesn’t want to waste a single drop of your blood until the time comes.
And when he pulls your sleep-shorts and panties off of you, he’s immediately licking a languid stripe up your glistening cunt. He remembers how it looked in red, the thought sending his body into overdrive at the taste of you now compared to that night.
Still so sweet. Almost as good as the blood. Ah, it serves as a reminder that perhaps he can give up the blood after taking it from you. This alone is enough. So creamy, so slippery.��
Yes, yes. A confirmation. It’s you, not just your blood. It’s you he won’t live without. Your mind, your voice, the wet you spill, the cum you’ll let him fuck out of you.
It’s always you.
And he hums into it, licking into you as far as his tongue can manage. He braces both hands on your thighs just to spread them further, skewing his head to reach deeper, deeper, fucking deeper. Tasting you, smelling you, utterly obsessed with you.
All you can do is shoot your hands down, forever waiting to feel his teeth sink into you but only feeling pleasure. So much pleasure. All of his freezing body parts just send consistent shivers up and down your spine. It’s like you can feel him under your skin when he does this, even with his hair tangled in your fingers as if you’re appreciating him for all of it.
It’s so good. With the way he doesn’t need to breathe. He keeps his tongue in you, and even still you feel as if you don’t need your clit stimulated at all with the way he’s working his mouth so aggressively. And it’s good with the way his fingernails dig into your skin not yet enough to cause blood, unlike before. Good with the way he hums into you through it all, the same way he did when he’d feed on you.
Ah, it’s just, it’s good. It’s dreamy. All of it feels like a fantasy up until he does pull back.
You look down in time with him looking up, those pretty eyes no longer looming and dark. Still crazed to an extent but you know they’re for you.
“Sunghoon,” You whisper out, watching him closely with the way his eyes roll back at even hearing his name on your tongue so prettily. “Why aren’t you feeding?”
You feel his fingernails leave more half moon shapes in your skin at the question. His eyes open in a half-lidded stare at you now, lips falling slack.
He looks so pretty, with the wet coating of his plush and pretty lips, your hands still tangled in his hair.
He still just looks at you. He doesn’t breathe, doesn’t blink, and doesn’t answer.
“You’re so quiet now.” You comment, feeling shy with the way he stares at you rather than your open pussy right in front of his mouth. “Say something.”
And within a single blink, his face is right up against yours, one hand still keeping your leg spread open, the other pinching your chin as he continues to stare.
“Let me have you.”
You hear his words clearly this time, breath caught in your throat up until he kisses it out of you. He breathes you in deeply, trying to drown himself in all that is your life before what he will inevitably do.
“Let me.” He pleads again, his eyebrows falling as if he’s in genuine pain to say it.
Your arms reach around his neck, staring at him with so much confirmation in your eyes. You’d let him have anything he wants. Anything.
And he groans at you, releasing your chin just to reach down to get his length out, appearing as though looking at you like this alone is enough to make him crumble to dust. He’s been aching this whole time too, since before he even left the cathedral. Borderline edging himself from both the pleasure of your body wrapped around him and the pleasure within you that would satiate his hunger just for a moment.
He misses the feeling of you so badly. The warmth, the slide, the way you cling to him like nothing he could do would scare you.
Just….one last time, he wants to feel warm.
And he chases for the heat inside of you, sliding in without breaking eye contact, without waiting, without savoring it.
It knocks the breath out of you again, forgetting just how cold it is when he settles in deep. So fucking deep.
You wince in pain before moaning out to him, whispering his name in a drawn out sigh.
“Ah, my love,” He groans at your reaction, his hips immediately moving. “My pretty, pretty, love.” Your walls hug him so perfectly, taking every inch with just a tiny wince. “Will you still sound so lovely?”
You don’t understand the question, but you nod to him, wanting nothing more in this moment than to prove your worth to him. To please him.
Such an insane woman, he thinks. Letting him take you and have you in whatever way he wishes. Whether living or dead, he truly believes every mindless nod you give to him. It’s clear, you’re just as deeply infatuated with him as he is with you.
Both of you would give and take happily, no matter what it is.
And fuck he can feel your living pulse against him with each fast and torturous thrust, snapping his hips so quickly into you. He can’t help but fuck hard and with purpose. Slamming in and out with echoed slaps and mindless groans.
Everything that you are could end him in an instant and all you can do is moan out for more.
Oh, he gives it. Of course he does. He will give you anything. Everything.
And it only becomes harder to resist when he kisses against your lips again, swallowing each moan of his name, exhaling it back out to you with the sound of your name. A mantra of two people, facing only death together and loving every heart-wrenching second of it.
The cold within you flourishes with each sound in his throat, you squeeze around him, your legs hug against him, your arms wrap tightly against his neck as he kisses you. Your body can’t withstand the speed of his cock slamming into you for much longer without coming undone.
And he doesn’t stop, seemingly never growing tired. Up until he feels your body clench entirely around him, he clings back at you at the feeling, whispering handsome words and proud promises.
“Already?” He grunted out first, hearing your blood rush and your muscles tense. “Ah, can hear it rushing through you, let it go, love.”
And you do, you let it go despite wanting it to last longer. So, so much longer.
He lends you a choked and inward groan at the way you react to his relentless thrusts, flexing his abs and pointing his cock as deeply into you as he can reach. And for the second time, Sunghoon feels the warmth of you spill over him. Prettier than the blood, your voice so, so, sexy choking out a string of curses just for his ears to adore.
“There you go.” He coos through it with his own groans, savoring every squeeze and squelch, adoring the sounds you make for him.
And as he watches, he can’t help the feeling inside of him. Your heart is beating so fast through the pleasure only he can offer you, and he keeps doing it. Fucking you through the orgasm only to not stop after the fact either.
It’ll be the last time he’ll ever feel heat like this on him. He can fuck any and every victim, but none will feel as good as you. Partially because you aren’t being manipulated, he has no hold on your mind right now. You’re not gripping and moaning because you’re in a daze, you’re doing it because you fucking want it.
God, having sex for the sake of sex is something he hasn’t done in a long time before you. Enjoying in the pleasure, fucking suffering through all of it. Truly, for him, if this is the last time your body will be warm, he’s going to take his goddamn time making sure you’re well aware of just how good you could have it if you let him keep you forever. Cold and dead, he’ll still love the feeling of your body.
So much that still, even with your orgasm dripping all over him, he pushes and he pushes. Thinking only of how he plans to drain you in more ways than once tonight. He can hold off for as long as he can with his own pleasure, because this alone is fucking bliss.
And he doesn’t care if he’s knocking the breath out of you, only because he knows that soon enough, you’ll never have to worry about breathing again.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
You’re unsure as to how long Sunghoon has been lying with you like this, but you were able to get a bit of rest against him. Even with your fingers feeling like ice wrapped up in his, you feel safe and at home here.
Not because you are at home, but because he’s here with you.
The night outside your window tells you that you’ve not been sleeping for long, but you can barely recall coming to your bedroom at all with him. He must have carried you here and cuddled himself up against you.
You stir in his grasp, peeking an eye up at him.
“You’ve rested enough?” Sunghoon smiles at you with saddened eyes, his pupils still blown and hair an absolute mess.
You shift against him, turning to face him entirely.
As he looks at you, all he can do is remind himself that he’s never considered fating someone with this curse until finding you. With your pretty jealous words and your intense need to have him take you out of this world all together. Never has he given the chance for another person to know him so deeply and have them react with only fondness and desire.
This is his chance, isn’t it? To find forever?
As monstrous as he is, he does still have desire. The feeling of loneliness isn’t meant to be grown accustomed to. For him at least. All of his fellow vampires have companions, and he swore he’d never do that to another person.
Perhaps it’s because many of the vampires he has mingled with took their companions by force. He could see the disdain in their eyes, and that’s not something he thinks he could live with. But you don’t look at him like that. You slept soundly next to a man wanting to kill you. Actively struggling not to do it with each and every breath you take.
And oh, since the start of his curse, the need to taste that last famed drop lured him to every meal he’s feasted on up until now. Such a delicious flavor, truly the best sensation running down his throat. To have you offer that last little sip to him? Ah, fuck.
The feeling in his stomach flutters at the thought of turning someone for the first time. Knowing that someone will be you. Knowing that you wouldn’t be a companion filled with resentment and agony at your new life.
It’s electrifying. Like his heart could beat again at any second because you truly make him feel like he’s never experienced death at all. Despite being surrounded by it, despite experiencing it himself, despite taking lives daily for thousands of years.
It’s amazing to him, to love someone so much he’s willing to fate them with eternal thirst, congealed blood, glitter and gold, beautiful and ugly, accidental lures before intentional ones.
Death.
Vile, cold, damp skin. Safe light of the moon, dust in the sun. The only threat is that of life itself.
Light. Sharp pointed dogwood stakes. Beheadings.
But…a companion.
The life he could live with you, oh the joy that runs through him is far too beautiful. The forever life. Eternity. Living through it all, far surpassing the roaches and bacteria of this earth. With you.
So many things you’ve forced him to understand. Loneliness, despair, want, need, envy. It’s been so long since he’s entertained petty mortal feelings, but you forced them into him and out of him. The only need he’s grown accustomed to was hunger and thirst. Never love, or warmth, or want.
Oh, forever. The two of you could starve after draining every living soul. All it takes is for him to take that last gush of blood from you.
Without the lure. Without the manipulation.
Never would he perform the rite without your pleasant voice telling him to. Never would he want to spend eternity with a woman so luring who would want nothing more than to be the blade slicing through the bone in his neck.
That legendary, utterly delicious, last drop of blood that he’s tasted so many times before. It’s different this time only because the blood isn’t for him and him alone now. He has to share it, and it pains him to know that none would taste quite like yours.
The hardest part would be controlling his instinct of swallowing it instantly, rendering you dead and unmoving for the eternity he wishes to have you.
A new feeling.
Anxiety.
Your death would be slow, a cold and dreary one, but it wouldn’t be lonely. He’d make sure you feel so good through it. He wouldn’t spill a drop. You’d be clean, avoiding a gruesome death otherwise.
And time would be against him, because upon taking that last drop, he’d barely be able to savor it before continuing the rite. A final sip that he can’t even swallow. A final sip that must be fed to you. Blood leaving your veins only to slide down into your emptied stomach through dead lips.
There, a final exhale, and then forever inhales.
You’d look so beautiful dying next to him. He’d hold you through it.
Is fate so dreary in a moment like that? Where is he feeling something akin to love for the first time in lifetime after lifetime? Is he selfish to need you so badly?
“You could have it all.” He inhales the words at your drowsy face nearing sleep again. The silence you lended after his last comment kept him in his head, and now he wants out of it.
He hugs against you so tightly, trying to keep you awake despite knowing he likely fucked you too long and too hard. Still, he wants to encourage a life with him for you.
“I can give it all to you.”
You’re silent at his words as you listen to him. You soak them into your sleepy head and smile.
“Sunghoo-”
“I beg of you.” He answers for you, grabbing your face tightly and landing an immediate kiss against your lips. A deep kiss, one that…oh. He’s crying.
You feel the cold wet hit your cheeks as he kisses. He does it before you can even move your own lips against him, but you do start to kiss him back. Your brows furrow in concern at this new emotion he’s showing to you, but your handles are gentle when you caress his cheeks through it.
“Die for me.” He whispers through the kiss, trying not to let you pull back at the words. He knows now that you heard them loud and clear.
Oh.
Why is there nothing in this world that you want more?
“It’ll only hurt for a little while.” He tries to make it sound pretty with his soothing whispers, not yet realizing that he hasn’t cried in several centuries. “You’ll come back.”
“Are you asking me to–?” You breathe out for him, once, twice, and then never finish what you were trying to ask simply because he makes himself very clear.
“You can be like me, my love.”
Your body pulses in fear, but the adrenaline hits you in all the right spots as you break eye contact to cling instead, this time shoving your nose up and against his neck. Wanting nothing more than this dead skin, needing nothing more than a man who wants to kill you.
But Sunghoon doesn’t want to end you, no. He wants to keep you forever.
And forever is different with Sunghoon. It’s never ending.
Are you even prepared to never see an end? With the man whispering so sweetly to you? Absolutely.
Would a split second decision like this ruin your life forever? What's forever anyway? When you have many lives to ruin and many more to deem a success if you choose to go with him.
Die. Only to live forever?
You nod once, then you shake your head. His arms wrap around you tightly at your indecisiveness. He’s content enough just knowing you’re considering it and truly, he’s trying to be patient. Waiting and well aware that the question is likely the hardest decision you’ll ever need to make.
“I’ll beg again and again.” He whispers, feeling your panicked lips try to calm your breathing against his neck. Still, you’re clinging to him tightly and it makes him feel…happy. “I cannot fathom a death for you that’s not this. Forever gone from me.”
You shake your head again, but then…you nod.
“Will it hurt?” You ask, feeling your heart rate threaten to kill you before Sunghoon even gets the chance himself.
“Tremendously.” He chuckles at the ignorance, though even he barely remembers the pain himself these days.
“Only for a little while, darling. I told you.” He licks his lips, anticipating the blood running through you to run through him soon. The hunger is almost overcoming him now and if you don’t agree, he very well may end up killing you regardless.
And the thought pains him.
If there was ever a time to hold himself back, it’s now.
“Don’t die without me here with you. Now or ever.” He continues in a sweet voice, trying to control the wavering breaks his throat is trying to force out of him.
“Can I…” You stop yourself, squeezing your eyes shut. “Can I have a minute to think?”
“Oh course,” He smiles to hide his frustration, pulling you back by your shoulders and sitting himself up against your bed. “But, the sun rises in three hours, and that’s three hours of fighting my urge to do it without your confirmation.”
You pause, finding comfort in the fact that he’s willing to suffer through your inevitable acceptance. There’s no way you’ll end up saying no to him, only because of how badly it hurt when you walked away from him. It rotted within you for weeks, and even when you thought you were better…all he had to do was stand outside your door to have you running to be in his arms.
What’s a bad decision when you could have lifetimes to make up for it? Even if said decision is what gives you those lifetimes. He’s asking for you to stay with him. To be with him. Isn’t that what you want?
But to die…
And you only cling to him through the fear, hoping he can save you from what he’s offering. He’s the comfort and the ultimate end.
Or, perhaps, the ultimate beginning.
You’re not sure. You only found out vampires are real like two months ago. It’s not exactly something you can comprehend so quickly, but it is something you know you want more than anything if it means you can be next to Sunghoon.
“Will it ease your fear if I talk about what it’s like to be me?” Sunghoon offers both a reason to give you insight, as well as distract his own mind during this moment of distress.
You nod immediately, hugging yourself so tightly to his side and trying to keep your nose up and against him simply because that brings you the most comfort. Smelling the faint cinnamon, feeling him against you.
“I’m the first of my family to reside here, but I’ve been here for thirty years. Commoners aren’t aware as I try to remain hidden save for when I need to hunt.” He starts, continuing after hearing the way your heart calms. “But, city officials know very well who I am, and where I come from.”
You listen, trying to take in his words as truth rather than fantasy.
“I was born in seventeen thirty eight, overseas. Every few hundred years I’ll relocate simply because it becomes boring watching the same country grow and be destroyed. I ran from many wars, have lived many lives.”
Oh. Okay.
“I know every language. I’ve lived every life you can imagine, worked every job you can think of to rid myself of boredom.”
“So you weren’t always pretending to be a priest?” You try to make light of the fear within you, almost, somehow, wanting to snort at his choice of current lifestyle.
“Ah, no.” He chuckles for you, rolling his eyes at how you mock him in the face of your own death. “I was a banker before this, I despised it. Only lasted about seven years before relocating here.”
A pause, you hear him chuckle.
“I really despise numbers.”
In the calmness of his voice, within his gentle grasp, you feel comfortable.
“Did you come for the cathedral?”
He nods, holding you against him even tighter.
“History is protected, whether it be land, buildings, or people. It felt fitting to be a priest if I was to stumble inside parading as a drunken man needing a place to stay.”
“How did you become, uh, what did she call you? Master?”
“Ah,” Another scoffed chuckle at your ignorance. “Did you believe them to be alive?”
You freeze, body stiffening at the shock. They were fucking dead?! This whole time?!
“I slept in a cathedral full of fucking vampires?!”
“You did.” He smiles. “But they are very well aware of what’s mine.”
He loves the way your face looks when you process words. He is more aware than you think of how insane all of this must sound to you. Yet, still, he has never truly lied to you.
“They needed an order, so I brought that order. Thus, Master.” He smiles as he motions towards himself with you still in his grasp, as if he’s playfully boasting his own intelligence over the vampire-nuns.
You pull back to look at him, feeling a bit calmer now in the way he describes countless lives and knowledge. You can’t experience any of that with the life you have right now. In fifty to sixty years you’ll be in an urn on your mother’s fireplace.
Why would you want that when you could be in a bed with silk sheets? Or perhaps by then you’ll be able to travel elsewhere with Sunghoon, finding new beds with even softer sheets.
And only now do you realize that Sunghoon didn’t put you in danger at all. In fact, he knew he was dangerous and forced you to live. Even when you asked him to kill you. He…
Oh. Wow.
“Now, what is it, you think, that made you so special in regards to that woman you found me with? What is it, love? What do you believe kept me from ending your life to sustain my own?” And goddamn does it feel good to finally say it. Sunghoon loves the feeling of the words coming out of his mouth, finally spilling it all to you and seeing you only react with cheeky curiosity.
“Why is that? Can you tell me?”
You’re silent as you think of his questions, unable to answer at all.
“No…” You breathe out, knowing he can feel the hot breath against him only because his hand squeezes your waist.
“I suppose after how long I’ve wandered this earth, even I am left with curiosities and questions too.” He smiles when he says it, thankful to know he hasn’t yet experienced everything there is. “I’d like to know why you have this hold on me too, darling.”
“Maybe it’s because I want it?”
“Perhaps, yes. If you didn’t I likely would have savored every ounce of you already and for that, I should be thankful.”
He shifts now, pressing you down against your bed and hovering over you with dark and sparkling eyes. His lips immediately go to your neck with the hunger he feels. Talking isn’t enough anymore. Holding you isn’t enough. He hasn’t eaten in days, and the fact that he could hold off even until now is strange to him.
“Unlike many, you do not seek death–” He drags his lips against your skin, relishing in it. “You exist alongside it happily, you welcome it.” He continues to talk, his teeth now retracting against your skin and leaving little swollen scratches with each drag. “Perhaps had I not chosen to be a priest during this lifetime, you’d have already said yes.”
“A singer? A dancer? Anything you wish for, I’ll become.” He smiles when he feels the goosebumps plump up under his teeth, and it’s so, so, hard not to bite. “So, won’t you stay? “
He listens so closely to your heart and breathing, nearly moaning at the need for it.
“Watching you wither to death by anything other than my own teeth would surely have me seekinga dogwood.”
Ah, so the fantasy movies and novels aren’t all wrong? So strange, truly, that he lives in a cathedral of crosses made from the very wood that could kill him.
“We could be anything, go anywhere, dine on meals you merely taste but never need.”
He nods his head against your skin, hoping you’ll nod along with him, knowing that you will.
“You could be mine, forever.”
You’ve accepted him already, you just haven’t said so yet. He doesn’t mind sweet talking you though, reminding you of everything he can and will provide.
And to you, every single word he mutters is pretty, and everything you could ever need or want is right here.
“I could be yours, forever.”
“I think–” You breathe out, hands now reaching up to scratch through his hair. “there is nothing I could want more than this.”
And the moment he gets that final word of confirmation out to you, he bites. The words you mutter drive him to it. He couldn’t even kiss you in appreciation simply because his instinct takes over. He lets go.
Finally, he can let go.
The need to control himself is no longer here, and it feels astounding.
The sting is deep and it rings within you so loudly that you could hear the puncture vibrate your brain. Your ears burn at the direct puncture, and already you can feel his hands bracing you through it. As if he knows he’s never bitten you so deep in your pulse point like this.
But the intention behind it somehow feels better than anything you’ve ever experienced. This is what you were jealous of and now you can only agree with your past self. There was good reason to be jealous of feeling this from him. Except, unlike that woman, he’s holding you through it. He’s grunting against your neck and swallowing large portions of your blood as the seconds pass. Losing himself with you. Almost as if he’s dying with you.
And he drinks, and drinks, and drinks, to the point your toes are feeling the sleep overtake them, then your legs, all the way up and down your body until your fingers are too weak to keep gripping against the locks of hair on the back of his neck.
You feel his fingers soothe you through the weakness when he pulls back, keeping his promise of not wasting a single drop. There is no blood smeared on him, only a trace of it on his inner lips as he watches your weakened expressions.
He isn’t intentionally draining you so quickly, but…fuck. The blood. That glorious scent and taste was already too much to bear, but now? Knowing he gets all of it save for the best and final sip? He genuinely can’t help it. Controlling himself now after how long he’s held back?
Darling, you asked for this.
And his body reacts in aroused euphoria. Already he feels an orgasm bubble up just witnessing you die for him. Even then, he barely feels the heightened pleasure because the mind, dead or not, simply cannot comprehend the pure potent pleasure he’s experiencing.
He spills out all over himself, while you spill out for him. Your life, your very being.
How can he not be terribly, horrifyingly, utterly stupendously in love with you?
“My love, the light in your eyes will come back soon.” He smiles as he watches what happens to you through this, and then throws his head back in manic pleasure with a deep and animalistic moan. Arguably, even his eyes hold more life than yours right now.
So, so beautiful.
You’re too weak to speak, but you shake your head. Nothing is a pain to lose, nothing except him.
And you find comfort in the way he sinks his teeth right back into those puncture marks. Sucking more and more out of you with a content smile on his face. He doesn’t think he could ever feel happier, knowing you’re giving him everything, and he wants nothing more than to return the favor to you.
Oh, how he wishes it were you sucking the life out of his veins. You’d be so gentle, you’d look so pretty losing your mind like he is right now.
You continue to feel your body grow numb, up to the point that your heart rate slows at the loss of blood. To the point you can tell he’s sucking harder and harder just to get more. You feel a weight shift inside of your body, it writhes and chokes every inch of your innards.
Shrivelling, spiraling, cramping.
If you could curl in on yourself right now, you would, but you’re too weak even for that. You can’t even twitch a finger against Sunghoon at this moment as you feel everything within you dehydrate and search for life.
It hurts.
Badly. So badly that at this moment, you can’t remember a single thing that has ever felt good. In fact, everything is painful. Life is painful and horrifyingly full of things that will hurt you. But–Sunghoon is here. That much, you still recognize. Even through the pain, and even through the twisting inside of you, he remains constant. He’s soothing you through it well past the comprehension of your dying brain.
You can’t shiver at the loss of warmth, but you do try to take a breath. Working your weak body to near exhaustion just at the act of trying to expand your lungs. And oh, you can’t even open your eyes at the way the last breath doesn’t come. You must have lost it already.
And then, darkness.
Nothing.
And it feels like this for an eternity. Nothing to see, nothing to feel, nothing to fear or love.
Absolutely fucking nothing. And to think humanity has built governments off promised afterlifes? To think anything ever mattered in the first place? The emptiness soothes and relieves your still working soul, wisping in the darkness for eternities more it seems.
To the point names and faces leave you, and all you can think, feel, or hear is that of unfilled space and pure, deafening, silence. You cannot feel content, or peace, or happiness here. You just feel nothing. And it truly feels good to be nothing.
Until there's warmth. You feel it somewhere hugging you, or perhaps inside of you? Do you even have a body to hold warmth now within this vast void of darkness? Why do you hear…?
Feelings come back to you tenfold. Seemingly experiencing everything you’ve ever felt and lived through all at once. That deafening silence becomes louder, louder, louder, until– it flourishes in the pit of your belly.
So much chaos within you. Swirling and bubbling in such a way that it fucking blooms in this darkness. You feel like you’re burning, freezing, dying, living, fucking drowning all at once.
That flourish forces the nothingness out of you. As comfortable as this place is, there is nothing and you want something. You need something. You crave…something.
A little dribble running down your throat leaving a trail of warm, blooming heat. As if you just swallowed a sun-ray itself. Only now can you feel your body again enough to know where the heat is coming from. It blossoms within you, increasing each sense within your body tenfold.
It doesn’t hurt.
Only now do you recognize that it’s silent again, as if you were slammed into a wall by the force of the god you now know does not exist. You feel yourself restrict under skin, you feel cold, you feel…heavy.
And the silence is still too loud to be so restricted. You miss the sounds of what you must have unintentionally listened to every waking moment of your life. The only true soundtrack of a living, loving, and heat-radiating being.
No heart-beat. No whirring of blood. No rumbling in your stomach. Nothing.
And yet still, it doesn’t hurt.
Just a bouquet in the pits in your belly. Your precious life, all summed up in that single diluted sip of blood.
And somehow, someway, you regain your strength faster than it took for you to lose it. You open your eyes on instinct and the world is glowing. Sunghoon is glowing. As lifeless as you are, and as empty as your brain is at this moment, you reach out to him immediately.
But he has yet to let go of you since all of this started. He stayed. He held you, just like he said he would.
“Did it hurt badly?” Sunghoon calls out to you, helping your mind awaken again.
He barely remembers the pain he went through when it happened to him. Truly, pain is so temporary, so meaningless to indulge but, the curiosity still sits with him.
After watching you for upwards of two hours to both die and come back to life, he can’t help but wonder if it was anything like what he experienced.
Even with that curiosity though, seeing you open your eyes for the first time in your new life fills Sunghoon with overwhelming glee. To the point he feels like a child, wanting to ask so many questions, thoughts shifting from this, to that, up until all his thoughts run together and all he can do is squeeze you in his grasp.
He’d have pulled down the stars if he could just so it could be your first view of the afterlife with him. But alas, he couldn’t step away even for a moment. He needed to be with you, not just for your sake, but his own.
You’re cold now, but oh, the blood within him could satiate him for hundreds of years. It’s gone from you now, and he fears not missing it. Not when you’re here. Not when you chose to be here with him.
You weakly nod to him, amazed at being able to do it again. Already the pain you’d previously felt feels like a long lost memory as you stare back at him.
“I’m sorry.” He smiles through the apology, unable to pretend he means the words at all. “I didn’t intend to drain you so quickly. My poor love, you must have felt miserable.”
You nod again, feeling him so tightly against you.
Only just realizing that he’s holding you. Your body, it’s coming back to you. You can feel sensations again.
“I feel–” Your voice cracks with a dry throat and you inhale.
On instinct, you try to exhale but your throat just gets drier and drier.
“I–”
Sunghoon coos, shushing you with a gentle kiss. Lending you his own saliva because if there’s one thing he can remember, it’s the act of learning how to…not breathe.
“Slowly, love, slowly.” He smiles when he pulls back, watching you swallow around his gift and instantly droop your eyes again.
“You’ve only just died and you have all the time in this world to speak, no need to do it now.”
And he’s right. You’re spinning, yet balanced. Fuzzy yet smooth. You are everything and nothing at this moment with your glowing after-death aroma. Sunghoon smiles, cradling the back of your head.
Finally, he’s gotten to drink you in full. No true death, and he feels more elated than he ever expected. Almost lulled to sleep at the scent of you disappearing. Never will he taste your blood again, but you. He has you now. Knowing you had a taste at all is enough. Knowing that he has broken for you enough to beg you.
To beg you to die for him just to be with him on a level deeper than thirst.
Never once has he wanted someone like this.
And never once had he expected you to agree with him.
The moment is sweet with him, and still you’ve yet to comprehend the truth reality of your life now. You know at least, that it could take longer than you’d have had previously to figure it out. You did this to be with someone, and that someone is right here next to you. Smiling, clinging, seemingly ecstatic to know he’s no longer alone.
A forever companion, truly this time.
And as sweet as the moment is, time still moves even after becoming ageless.
“The sun will rise soon,” Sunghoon hums at your reluctant gaze at the window. “Shall we go home?”
You would nod. Truly, you would, if it weren��t for that suffocating scent entering your nose.
Roses? No, tulips?
Lavender?
Your belly pangs, a dry and itchy feeling overtaking your entire being. To the point that Sunghoon clinging to you can’t even calm the itch. The world stops at the scent, so strong and sweet.
Sunghoon smells it too though, and he knows. He’s experienced it time and time again, though he’s long since learned how to control it, clearly. He purses his lips in frustration. You’ve only just come back, and he’d very much like to get you home with him so that you can learn and grow accustomed to this life. You need to realize that you haven’t even experienced the hardest part yet.
Disappearing.
After all, his intention was to hunt for you, teach you, comfort you. There’s so much to do now that the deed is done, and he hadn’t prepared for interruptions such as this.
Unfortunately, he knows very well the thirst. You won’t be able to control it, especially considering he knows this scent too. He has to force himself to try and lend you alluring words, but they seem to go through one ear and out the other.
Your brain is empty at the scent.
“Ah, what a turn of events.” He tics his tongue with a smile. “I smell him too.”
Your eyes do not reach Sunghoon at all, but he understands. Even with the jealousy in his gut.
A key clicking into a lock, a turn of the knob. The sound is amplified in your ears along with the scent.
“Wake up and help me unload all this shit!”
Oh, what a shame.
You really loved Jungwon.
“Can you smell it flowing through him?” Sunghoon smiles at the light in your eye now, endeared by the way scent ignites you entirely. As envious of Jungwon as he is to hold certain parts of you when he couldn’t do it himself, seeing the way you react arouses him beyond belief.
Your first feeling of thirst.
“Shall I greet him?”
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Jungwon peers at the stoic figure that appeared from your bedroom. His first thought is that he’s going to kick your fucking ass because number one, this better not be who he thinks it is. And number two–
There is no number two. A mere three seconds after stepping into his new home with you, his mind goes fuzzy. Thinking only of you, of needing to see you, of needing to make sure you’re okay.
He wants to know if you slept well, and if you were able to have any sweet dreams without him here.
“Jungwon, I take it?” Sunghoon lends him a lively smile, impressed by the pull you unintentionally lay on the guy.
“Ah, yeah.” Jungwon weakly scratches the back of his neck before feeling his body move on its own. “Where is she? I need to see her.”
It’s a pity, really, but Sunghoon has seen it time and time again with his own victims. A weak mind, one that is easily broken and even easier to lure. It’s kind of cute really, seeing how breathing humans cling to what balances them.
He almost feels bad for taking you from Jungwon, but he doesn't only because he hates that he has to see you drink from someone you were attached to. He knows it’ll hurt you when you realize, and he no longer wants to see you hurt after witnessing your death.
As beautiful as it was.
Jungwon truly chases you, stepping through the apartment and dropping everything in his hands without care. He heads straight to your room, swallowed in a somber smile and a welcome scent. One that he doesn’t know is death.
“Wonnie.” You rasp sweetly. “Come here.”
There’s no reluctance within him, even upon hearing Sunghoon close the door behind him and lock it. Even when the man looms at the door, watching, narrowing his eyes at you in jealousy.
You ignore it as you grow enamored with Jungwon at this moment. Is this what his life smells like? So pretty, it truly fits him.
And it drowns out all of your thoughts. The flowers, like a fresh spring day with no worry. You think it’s your favorite smell in the world as you inhale him with each step he takes toward you.
For Jungwon, even upon feeling you grip his shirt, pulling him closer than he’s ever been to you without the excuse of comfort, he pays no mind. He missed this bubble he shared with you, the single night with his sister almost felt like agony to be away from you.
After all, the love he holds for you is truly deeper than romance. There is no need for any physicality between the two of you, yet…he welcomes it at this moment. In fact, he’s entirely aroused, stiffening in his pants at the sheer blissful anxiety your uncanny smile and shining eyes lend to him.
Did you truly miss him so much?
“You look so pretty…” He trails off, closing his eyes as he feels you caress his warm cheeks. “Your hands are so cold, let me—ah”
You’ve never felt an instinct quite like this. You could truly hear it, the pulse of his heart. You can still smell his sweet scent, and you truly weren’t in control of your own body when you gripped him, lifted, and sank your teeth right against his pulse point.
Jungwon moans at the bite, drifting off entirely at first contact.
All while Sunghoon continues to loom. Watching with weight in his pants. The way you bite so messily, spilling blood and wasting it as it trickles down Jungwon’s throat. The small sounds your mouth makes as you suck has him throbbing non-stop, to the point he almost needs to hold onto something just to keep from jumping on you, just to keep from tasting Jungwon himself.
And, oh, his pretty love, you have so much to adapt to.
It appears he does as well.
As he watches the furrow of your brows at the first taste falling to that of relief and pleasure as you drink, and you drink, and you drink, until–
Sunghoon smirks now, quirking his brow at how you stop yourself before he needs to step in and separate the two of you. In all honesty, he was unsure if he’d be able to give in and stop you either. After all, killing Jungwon now would prove easier than letting him live.
The fact that you stopped yourself though. Perhaps your mind grew more stubborn and strong-willed through death. He nearly cannot believe that you aren’t draining the man dry right now.
And you aren’t even sure yourself why you do. The feeling in your gut is full and satiated, but the grip Jungwon has on you only grows more and more limp. You love the way he clings as much as the taste, and even through his slumber, he clinged so tight.
Not so much now though, and that scared you. So, you let go.
If only because truly, you do love Jungwon. Enough to no longer pull him into your messes despite forcing him to become one at this moment. What’s even more scary is though, even with all of the endearment you held towards him in life, the feeling is only amplified now. These new bitter and floral scents pulsing through him makes you want to protect him from any leech wanting to drink it out of him.
Even if you’re the leech.
Ah, he tasted like honey suckle, and it dropped down your throat like honey too. Warm, gentle, pretty. Just like him.
And you have to continue to keep yourself from sinking your teeth into him. Your stomach is greedy, wanting more, but too in love with the life he has and willingly wanted to share with you as a best friend and forever comfort.
Forever for Jungwon is nothing but a moment to you now, but it’s one you hope he enjoys, at least.
And when you hold him against you, so weak and sound asleep, you look at Sunghoon. The tears fall so, so, cold against your cheeks. The heightened senses within you become overwhelming with the horrifying silence and intense smell of floral blood wafting through your nose.
“Much like you, he won’t remember. You lured him deeply, love, did you know that? He was asleep from the moment he saw you.”
You pause, nodding as the tears continue to fall.
“Brilliant.” He compliments now, moving to hold you as you cling to Jungwon.
“Sunghoon, did my blood taste like that?”
Sunghoon kisses you once, sucking Jungwon’s blood from your tongue.
“Ah,” He chokes. “Absolutely not.”
You pause at his scrunched nose.
“You were much sweeter.” He whispers sweetly, fondly, tilting his head to kiss against you again, licking the mess of Jungwon’s blood from your lips, chin, and neck. Still, he chokes it down. “I’ll miss it.”
“What did it taste like?” Your weak and dry voice falters repeatedly, but you need to speak right now.
“You tell me.”
You only slightly remember the flavor as you were brought back. Warm, blooming, spicy, sickeningly sweet.
“I have never tasted anything compared to it…”
“Exactly.” Sunghoon smiles, inhaling deeply and lending no breath against your skin when he scrapes his teeth there. “Like the sun.” He hums, nosing down to your neck and inhaling again, arms only slightly trying to push Jungwon out of your grasp. “Like the one thing that could get me killed.”
You cling tightly to your best friend though, not wanting any more harm to come to him. Still, you stare at Sunghoon’s sweet words, finding yourself smiling at all that is to be gained rather than lost.
Your life. The light outside, the light in your eyes, the warmth.
Not Jungwon though.
“You don’t intend to leave him be, no?” Sunghoon furrows a brow at how your face rises for him, but falls instantly at inhaling Jungwon’s blood.
You frantically shake your head.
“We’ll figure something out, love.” He says now, looking away from you and doing his best to ignore the envy that fills him time and time again when this floral-boy is near.
He told you he’d do anything for you, give anything to you.
If that includes Jungwon….
Ah, always so fucking stubborn.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
The sun rises and falls.
Repeatedly, for months.
Jungwon wakes himself with the warm sun hitting his face, the bed just as warm from his own body heat. He loves this space, and adores the way that even if it’s only him, he never feels lonely with that pretty smell in the air.
Every morning when he wakes up, and every night before he goes to bed.
The shock of learning the inevitable still hurts him from time to time, but still, he smiles with that dimple you threatened you’d steal right off his face if he chose not to show it to you.
His hand reaches to his neck, the single wound you gave him and apologized profusely for after. It’s healed well.
And when his phone vibrates in the middle of the day, he wonders why you’re awake.
You: wonnie
Wonnie: wat
You: come over
Wonnie: was wondering why you were trying so hard. nearly suffocated this morning.
You: and you were fighting it? asshole
Wonnie: be over in a few, stinky
And as strange as it is, Sunghoon doesn’t mind that you wouldn’t let Jungwon go. After several conversations needing reassurance that you’re not trying to spend your forever elsewhere, anyway.
Really, to think you’d die for him but want someone else? Sunghoon truly is insane, but so are you.
And it works.
Because Jungwon loves insanity, even if he hates Sunghoon with a passion. Even if he can only see you with Sunghoon in the room too. Even if you’re dead.
You’re still his best friend, and he doesn’t mind helping you disappear as long as it’s not from him.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
not me accidentally making this a sunghoon ft.jungwon fic.
let me make this incredibly clear. jungwon are reader are not romantically in love, though they do love each other deeply. in a way where finding out one of them is a goddamn vampire doesn’t change a single thing or feeling.
remember that this is fiction, it isn’t meant to be realistic.
pls do not rant at me about how much jungwon is in this fic either. i wrote it that way on purpose. if you don’t love best friend jungwon then im very sorry for you and hope you get well soon!!!
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Steve was a ghost who haunted his best friend.
Steve had died in that interrogation room under Starcourt and now, he was stuck haunting Robin Buckley who might as well be his shortest heartbreak and long-lost twin.
The problem was she couldn't see or touch him.
No, she could hear him just fine, but physical contact was just impossible.
Steve, however, didn't care much so long as he had someone there to listen to his daily monologues. It was fun.
They bickered most of the time and while Robin always seemed sad that she couldn't hug him whenever he told her about his parents or how lonely he used to be before her, Steve was just happy with what he got.
Because even in death, he wasn't alone, and that was enough of a gift to him.
Then, the day his funeral was held, Steve was thankful that he had convinced Robin to attend considering it was how he reunited with the kids.
They all saw him.
A thing that Steve would never take for granted.
Robin didn't know what to do when they flocked around her and bombarded her with question after question, demanding to know why she was the one who got the privilege of being haunted by Steve.
"A privilege?" Robin burst into a laugh, giving them a ridiculous look.
"Of course, to think you've been haunted and actually having real conversations with a ghost every day is a revolutionary step into the spiritual science field," Dustin narrowed his eyes. "And I am very disappointed in you, Ms. Robin Buckley, for not telling me right away!"
"Just say you're jealous that Steve doesn't haunt you." Max rolled her eyes.
"You say it as if you're not jealous yourself!" Mike scowled at her.
"No, I'm not, you delusional nerd!" Max scowled back.
"Hey!"
"C'mon guys, don't fight," Lucas frowned and sighed in exasperation.
Noticing the odd looks from other people at the cemetery, Robin herded the kids into Steve's car that he had given her as a keepsake.
Once they were safely away from prying eyes, Robin clapped her hands to gather everyone's attention.
"Children!" She then continued under their curious gazes. "Steve-o here said he really appreciates that you munchkins care so much about him. But sadly, he can't leave my side. Like literally can't so if any of you want to see him, you can always seek me out whenever you see fit."
"Why are you saying all of this?" Mike squinted at her.
"Because Steve can't talk to us, obviously." Dustin responded haughtily, earning an eye roll from the other boy.
"Bingo!" Robin did a fist bump with Dustin.
Then, she held up a finger at them. "And before you ask, I can't see him. Or touch him."
She watched the kids look at the passenger seat before nodding at her.
It must be Steve who confirmed the truth, she thought.
As they went back to discussing Steve's incorporeal state, Robin had a feeling that she had unknowingly adopted a gaggle of troublesome ducklings who were going to give her grey hair very very soon.
"C'mon Robbie, it's a Halloween party," Steve begged. "Let's go have some fun! Don't your heart ache to watch your bestest friend rotting in sorrow while eating pumpkins?"
"First of all, I've never ever met anyone who uses 'heart' and 'ache' like that," Robin blew at her freshly painted nails.
"Well, now I'm your first. Didn't people always say special always come late?"
"I don't even want to correct you on all of that," Robin huffed quietly at Steve's goofy chuckle. "And no, Dingus, you don't eat pumpkins. Or if you do, I don't care."
"Please, Robbie, I just wanna have fun," Steve sighed dolefully. "It's been a long time ago since I went to a party." He sighed again and even sniffled a little.
When Robin groaned, a big grin stretched on his lips.
"Just this time." She narrowed her eyes at him, or precisely speaking, at the spot where she assumed he was sitting.
Sometimes, when she made a wrong guess, Steve would just move over to where her gaze stopped and continue talking her ears off.
"I promise you're gonna have so much fun, Robbie." Steve ruffled her hair even if his hand always passed right through her. It was still one of his hard-to-get-rid-of habits anyway.
By the time they arrived, the party was already full-blown and swarmed with people.
As Robin struggled her way through the crowd, Steve just walked beside her with barely any difficulties.
He bet she would curse him so much if she saw how comfortable he looked right now.
But then, his little moment of joy was cut short when he bumped into someone whose lips literally knocked against his.
As cliché as it might sound, he certainly felt the electricity running through his body from that single accidental kiss.
And belatedly, a realization dawned on him.
He had bumped right into someone.
He, a ghost, had bodily collided with a living human.
Shocked, Steve stepped back and was at a loss for what to do next.
Then, a shaky voice shook him out of his trance.
"Harrington?"
Staring into those scared Bambi's eyes, Steve clenched his jaw and forced himself to not panic.
"Munson."
#steve harrington#robin buckley#eddie munson#stobin#pre steddie#platonic soulmates stobin#soulmates steddie#soulmates whoes souls are connected so even death can’t do them apart#sionewrites#might have a part 2 if reactions are good#sorry it's not even halloween and i posted this lmao
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the sun
pairing: bucky barnes x fem!reader
summary: after the events of the snap, you find out news that's both heart wrenching and warming. what happens five years later when bucky's back?
warnings: death, mourning, pregnancy, childbirth, canon-typical violence (not much but just adding to cover all the bases), loosely based on end game and infinity war (as in ignore my mistakes lmaooo), if i failed to mention any warnings PLEASE LET ME KNOW!
wc: 2.6k
a/n: dude idk why i've had an urge to write such heart wrenching angst lately. i'm actually in a decent place rn. i tried to cut this fic down bc originally it was SOOOO long i felt like a lot of it was just filler and i feel like shorter fics of mine tend to do better... ANYWHO! this does have a happy/hopeful ending so no worries! also picturing this beefcake for this story is AGHHHHHHH!
you never thought two lines on a stick could ever break your heart the way they did.
tears clouded your vision as you gripped the counter, trying not to crumble or succumb to your grief.
6 weeks ago, the avengers lost. everything.
half of the world, gone in a moment.
in one moment, your world collapsed. seeing bucky fade to dust right in front of you...
sobs wracked through your body as you crumbled to the ground.
this was supposed to be a happy moment. there should be tears of joy, not sobs of sorrow. your heart should feel full of love, not like there's a super-soldier sized hole in it.
"y/n," nat's voice rang outside the door, giving you a moment to yourself.
"just-," you tried to level your breathing before she opened the door, knowing but not understanding the grief you were feeling.
she wrapped her arms around your body, tucking your head into her neck as she gently rubbed your back soothingly. steve leaned against the bathroom door, glancing on the counter to see what they had all expected.
a positive pregnancy test.
you were having bucky's baby.
without bucky.
you gripped his dog tags that you had been wearing since the funeral. they were the only thing that could truly ground you.
they brought back happy memories of cuddling in bed, the cool metal shocking your skin for only a moment before realizing that it was only bucky and smiling at the memory.
god, it hadn't even been two months.
how were you supposed to do this alone?
"we're here for you," steve's voice called from the doorway, as if he could hear your thoughts. "you'll never be alone. not in this... not ever." he shook his head, his brows furrowed in a serious, straight line.
eventually, your sobs subsided. you stood with nat from your seat on the ground, wiping your own eyes mustering up a pathetic smile before she left you and steve to work out your grief together.
"we didn't even know it was possible," you shrugged. "it's like he sent me them..." you placed your hand on an invisible bump before facing steve, his teary eyes reminding you that he had lost his best friend, too. "he sent us this baby."
you reached your hand out for steve to hold. he took it gratefully and pulled you into his arms, hugging you tight and letting only a few tears slip his waterline before pulling back.
"if you'll let me, i want to be there for you for everything," his chin wobbled. "buck would kick my ass if i let you go through this alone." a genuine laugh left your lips for the first time in nearly two months.
"i would be so grateful for that," you nodded as you let go of his arms. "part of me still can't believe that it's real. it's like part of me still expects him to walk into the compound from a long mission or something..." you shook your head. "i know that sounds so stupid."
"it's not," he shook his head with a smile. "it's what i wish was true, maybe it's your subconscious trying to preserve your mind?"
"maybe," you shrugged before continuing, "i should probably talk to tony and bruce, huh?"
-
you knew you were around eight weeks along.
according to the doctors' tony had enlisted, however, you were already 12 weeks along, which was impossible.
bucky had been gone on a mission at that time... but it's whatever. you got to hear the heartbeat. steve went with you, too. you both bawled together. you kept three copies of the ultrasound and he kept two.
banner had already offered to do some testing on the dna of the baby, noting that the serum would likely affect the pregnancy (as it probably already has).
you had talked to tony about retiring from the whole superhero gig for the time being. you needed to mourn and prepare for a new life simultaneously. tony had promised to provide anything you needed at the drop of a hat, and he sure as hell delivered.
within no time, your pregnancy was being measured at 20 weeks while only being pregnant for 12. banner was concerned for your body's ability to keep up with the rapid rate of growth of the baby. he had you on a strict, hefty diet with two different prenatal vitamins in attempt to help your nutrition.
in spite of your best efforts, you were always exhausted and in pain. but you wouldn't trade it for anything in the world. this was bucky's baby. you didn't care how much pain you went through when you had half of him growing inside of you.
you couldn't walk for long without feeling like passing out, which banner chalked up to low iron. steve had grown progressively more worried for you and the baby the longer the pregnancy went on.
as a result, he had moved into the spare room that was in your and bucky's house. truly, it just made it easier for him to help you finish up the nursery anyway.
he was very handy about it all, painting, building furniture from scratch, the whole deal.
"i've been thinking... and if it's a girl, i want to name her evangeline james barnes," you informed steve as you ate the steak he had been making for the past few weeks of your pregnancy, as ordered by dr. banner. that with carrots, broccoli, potatoes, and for dessert strawberries, blueberries and raspberries over ice cream. "and if it's a boy, cyrus james barnes. evangeline means good news, and cyrus means sun."
steve placed his hand over yours, "i think buck would've loved them." he smiled warmly as you downed the food in a few minutes.
you had begun showing soon after you found out you were pregnant, but now, it felt like it was impossible to hide. nat had been wonderful about helping you keep up with the changes your body was going through, getting you new maternity clothes every week.
she even made sure to get you every single craving that wasn't in accordance to banner's hefty diet. not that he didn't want you to eat more, he thought it was best you did! but he also wanted to make sure that with all that you did eat, your body got as many nutrients as possible.
just to be safe, he kept you on other vitamin supplements anyway.
you couldn't help but imagine what bucky would say or do about everything now.
he would hold your body closely, pressing firm kisses to your bump every chance he could get while whispering some sickly sweet sayings to your unborn child, words that would melt the winter soldier's cold exterior.
he would whisper words of encouragement any moment you felt worried about your abilities to be a mom. he would say how beautiful you were, in spite of being bloated in places you didn't know could bloat.
he would be wonderful, and in your mind, he was still alive and vibrant. well, as vibrant as bucky ever was, at least.
truthfully, that's the only way you were able to keep going on like this. steve was wonderful, but you couldn't help but want the love of your life by your side as you tried to navigate this new chapter.
in a couple more weeks, you were projected to be at 32 weeks. bruce and tony were talking with your doctors about the safety of inducing so early, both for you and the baby.
oh, and you wanted the gender to be a surprise.
and within the week, you were having your baby.
steve and nat were by your side during the birth, whispering encouraging words and compliments of your strength.
"i need him!" you screamed in pain as you held one of each of their hands, sobbing in agony. "i need james! i need my bucky! i can't do this alone, i can't-i can't!"
"you can," nat reminded you. "this baby needs you," she held your face to look at hers. "bucky is a part of this baby." you swore you could see tears in her eyes before turning to face steve.
"remember what you told me when you found out you were pregnant?" he didn't bother wiping the tears from his face. "bucky sent you-sent us this baby. he knows you can do it." you sniffled before nodding at your two best friends, pushing with one last scream and a second later, you had...
"cyrus james barnes," the nurse called to you. "it's a boy, congratulations mom."
-
the next few years went by quicker than you could've ever imagined.
crawling, first words, first steps...
you missed bucky. not a day passed where you didn't miss him.
but, having cy helped a lot. he looked just like his father. dark brown hair, icy blue eyes, a cute little nose... not to mention his father's stubbornness.
you made sure he knew who his father was. you took him to the museum often, showing him the statue of his father and his background in the world war, him saving the world so much. you told him how you fell in love with him.
how you fell for the quiet man before ever really talking to him. how you were partners on a long-term, undercover mission and that's where your love ignited from the sparks.
not that cy understood any of what you told him. you just felt it was important to know that his parents loved him, and each other dearly.
you never took off his dog tags, either.
steve was a huge help the whole time. he kept working for the avengers, so he was gone often, but he provided a good male role model for cyrus. after all, he was his uncle steve. he already taught him how to throw a ball, albeit a little softball, but it counts!
you made sure to document everything that went on in yours and cyrus's life.
banner had said that cyrus was growing at an exceeding rate, but nothing to be concerned about. in fact, cyrus was turning five in almost half a year, meaning the anniversary of bucky's death, or disappearance or whatever you called it, was coming up.
then, you got a call from tony and banner.
it all happened so quickly, from testing to planning to the execution. pepper watched cyrus for you while you went back with steve, scott, and tony to get the tesseract.
of course, the men being men had to come upon a few hiccups, but eventually, after going as far back as the 70s, you brought back the tesseract.
the only thing is that nat never came back...
next thing you know, bruce is snapping his fingers and clint is getting a call from his supposedly deceased wife. your eyes fill with tears, hands searching in your pockets for your phone to see if you've gotten anything yet.
is it possible he wasn't brought back? he was the first to... disintegrate. die. maybe that meant something in the eyes of the stones?
then, you felt a buzz in your hand.
although, you didn't have any time to try to grasp what that meant, because more aliens came to earth.
shocker.
after yet another war, one that you weren't even prepared for, after losing more people, again. after losing tony...
but amidst the chaos of the aftermath of the fight, with screams of joy and shock and grief surrounding you, tears streaming down your face, your eyes met the blue ones you only saw in your son.
he slowly walked towards you as the tears sped up. you didn't even realize when your feet began running towards him.
when his arms wrapped around your waist, you finally felt the home you thought you had come to terms with never feeling again. your arms wrapped around his neck, your face buried in his shoulder as you breathed in the scent of gunmetal that had overtaken him in the battle.
"oh my god," you cried into the leather of his jacket. he lifted you off the ground, your legs wrapping around his waist as you felt his smile on your cheek. "i can't believe you're really here."
"i'm here, doll," his hands cradled your head so tenderly. "i'm not ever leaving again. never."
you pulled back before your eyes widened in realization. "you've gotta meet someone, jamie."
his brows furrowed in confusion, just smiling and nodding along with whatever you said.
within the next few hours, simply being held by bucky before steve stole him away with a hug, you finally brought him home.
"so, steve moved in," you started as you pulled your car into the driveway, turning to see bucky looking at you with an incredulous look. "you'll see why." you reached to hold his hand before he brought yours to his lips, pressing a kiss there.
you told him to wait in the car as you went inside to relieve the babysitter for cyrus. after giving him some cash, he went outside, knocking on your car window to let bucky know he should make his way inside.
upon entering, he saw you sitting on the floor with a little boy with striking blue eyes that seemed so familiar to him. his nose, too. his lips though, they were all yours. he had a slight grin plastered on his lips, one that matched yours to a t.
"daddy?" suddenly, it all clicked.
his heart, his mind, his fucking soul, everything made sense now. the pain, hydra, the mind washing, the torture.
meeting you. falling in love. dying?
his son.
he started walking closer to bucky before the steady walk turned into a run. bucky knelt down, wrapping the boy in his arms, cradling his tiny frame in his arms protectively. his son.
"cyrus james barnes," you said with a teary smile on your face. bucky, without breaking the hug with his son, looked up at you with a smile that matched yours. "cyrus means 'sun', and i thought it was fitting. he brought me so much light and hope after you..." you choked up before he stood up with cy in his arms, walking towards you before wrapping you in the big, family hug.
"i love you so much, both of you."
#bucky x reader#bucky barnes angst#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes fluff#james bucky barnes#marvel#sargeant barnes#bucky#sargeant james barnes#james bucky buchanan barnes#james barnes#bucky fanfic#bucky barnes hurt/comfort#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes whump#bucky x avenger!reader#bucky x fem!reader#dad!bucky
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Danny as Janet drake
Danny gets captured by the GIW but gets freed later on by redeemed Vlad and dan. The GIW have faked Danny's death so Danny can't go back home. Danny is also terrified of the GIW So they go so far out as to change not just name but gender on all the information.
Danny lives with Vlad and Dan as Vlad's niece and is brought to Vlad business things and Galas.Vlad was injured during the Escape so Danny said to be family moving in to make sure he's okay. Danny looks just like Dan so they can easily pass off as cousins.
Danny meets Jack drake at a Gala and one thing leads to another, Due to shapeshifting and ghost powers Danny has Tim. They got married to avoid a higher Society scandal. Tim Is born with only a small ghost core and sensitivity to the supernatural but no ghost powers. Danny and Jack move around a lot due to Danny's fear of the GIW. Danny tries to get connections to a lot of people because of being terrified of just disappearing due to the GIW.
Danny has drake manor as a lair. Danny has quite a hard time bringing people there outside of tim and jack Due to ghost instincts. Tim realizes this at a younger age and starts asking Danny if they can stay home alone, not liking that their mom is agitated due to the people coming in and out of their house. Danny, not realizing what age kids are supposed to be staying home alone due to their own experience, thinks that's a great idea. Danny leaves Tim at the house to try and give him a stable place of living instead of moving around all the time and to keep him close to friends.
I have three ways that this idea can go.
1. Danny realizes that Tim is going out to be a vigilante when they get home the first night he really goes out and puts two and two together. They put together who Tim could be and Conference Bruce about it. Bruce expects to hate Tim's mom thinking it's a case of neglect not realizing that Danny's about to hand him his ass due to their own bad experiences of being a vigilante at a young age.
2. Danny recognizes the signs of teen vigilantism and sits Tim down for a talk. The talk is mostly if they're being safe and that they can call them anytime they want. They teach them the signs to look out for if they start developing powers due to being in close Proximity with unknown substances and death.Tim instantly calls his mom after seeing Jason's eyes flash green.
3. It follows Canon And Danny fully dies. Danny gets stuck in the ghost Zone after his death but has people like clockwork or other spirits looking after his kid. Tim finds out about Danny being scared of the GIW and looking into Vladco due to a case after Danny's death. it would be later in the timeline and be due to a case that multiple people were working on. they would be investigating a secret project and see the name of the GIW. They would find out that Vladco used to work well with them but pulled out because of what is said to be working differences. They look into who runs Vladco and Tim recognizes the names. He used to visit Vlad for Christmas and knows Dan as family. I don't think he would have talked to them since his parents funeral but definitely still gets invited to family things.
#danny phantom#dc x dp#dp x dc#danny fenton#dpxdc#dc x dp crossover#batfam#batfamily#batman#tim#tim drake wayne#timothy drake#v#vlad plasmius#dan p#dan phantom
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Best Friends Forever!
Suguru Geto ♡
MDNI
₊˚ପ⊹ Summary: You’re Suguru’s bff and roommate. You know him like the back of your hand – and he knows you the same, if not better! Some people may think you two are too close, but they just don’t understand. When you have a date planned and need help picking out your outfit, Suguru’s your guy! ...What’s this? He doesn’t want you to leave?
₊˚ପ⊹ Warnings: minor mention of blood, mention of pet death, possessiveness, jealousy, nipple play, thigh riding, fingering, making you beg, overstimulation, unprotected sex
₊˚ପ⊹ an: kicking and screaming and crying and throwing up and scratching my face I NEED HIM.
₊˚ପ⊹ wc: 2.8k
𓂃⊹ ִֶָ
BFF! Sugu who’s been by your side since before you can even remember! You grew up neighbors and when you both went off to college you got an apartment off campus together. It was only natural to be with Suguru. He was the only constant in your life – your anchor.
BFF! Sugu who is so protective of you. How could he not? You two experienced life’s firsts together. You were there when Suguru took a nasty spill off his bike. His tears were hot down his face as you stayed by his side. You used the water bottle you kept on your own bike to flush the blood off his knee, giving it a quick peck. “My mom always says a kiss makes everything better. Do you feel better Sugu?” He nods his head, wiping the snot off of his face with his t-shirt. He was there when you lost your first pet and even though you were preteens and everyone made you feel dumb being sad over a goldfish - Geto made it a point to hold a funeral in his backyard. He dug a small grave for it - picking out the perfect rock for you to write its name on to place on top of its resting place.
BFF! Sugu who makes sure you’re safe. He would never allow you to pump your own gas. He’s seen the type of guys who prowl around the gas station close to your home. He’ll make sure you get to sit pretty in the passenger seat while he fills up your car. Don’t worry about the price – he’ll take care of it. He always takes care of you.
BFF! Sugu who knows everything about you. He knows all your favorites. Favorite color, favorite season, favorite food, favorite tv show… there was nothing that you liked that he was not aware of. He knows about things you wouldn’t be caught dead telling anyone else – trusting only your best friend.
BFF! Sugu who is so so sooooo protective of you. Any guy he thought wasn’t the absolute best for you was quickly kicked to the curb. He’ll admit – sometimes the criteria was a little strict. The guy from your art class? His haircut was stupid. Shithead from your after school club? Believe him – he was a tool. Worst of all was the douche on your school’s baseball team. Suguru had quite the time getting you to see his point of view, but he didn’t dare say I told you so as you cried in his arms retelling the embarrassment of catching him cheating.
BFF! Sugu who learns to relax in college. You were a woman now – you no longer needed his constant guidance. He would genuinely smile as you talked about all the friends you were making in your major. How funny your coworkers at the concession stand job you worked every football game were. The fact you had a date with a friend of a friend – your girl friend had vouched for him. He was a good guy. Geto was glad you had people looking out for you. He couldn’t wait to meet him.
BFF! Sugu who helps you pick out the cute little outfits for your dates. You were so beautiful, that guy was truly lucky. But even his luck couldn’t match Suguru’s as you put on a little show for him – trying on every tantalizing option.
BFF! Sugu who loved watching you dress up so much he bought you more. You didn’t even need a date to have a fashion show! He just loved seeing that color on you. Oh! – And don’t even get him started on the skimpy little dresses with the ruffles. They were made for you. He couldn’t decide whether your plump butt or your squishy boobs looked better hugged by the fabric. He had to use his large hand to hide the bite he gave to his bottom lip when your cute little panties peaked through the bottom of a particularly short one. “Maybe that one is good for around the house,” he proposed.
BFF! Sugu who had to swallow his need when you begged him to rate your lingerie. “I didn’t realize you two were at that point in your relationship,” he would try to laugh off his distaste.
“I’ve told him no to sex for so long, I’ve been thinking maybe it's time…” you trailed off. You played with the hem of your dress as you stood in front of Suguru on the couch. He was sunk comfortably into the loveseat, legs spread wide and one of his muscled arms stretching across the back of the couch. The other on the arm rest. “Ok princess. Let’s see the options,” he spoke.
BFF! Sugu who couldn’t make it through the first set. The white lace left little to the imagination, a black bow adorned above your cute mound. “You trying to make me sweat?” A dark chuckle broke through his lips. “Sorry?” you asked him, not hearing him correctly. How silly you were to think that just because he was a friend that made him any less of a man. A hot blooded man at that – with eyes that glued to your nipples visible through the thin fabric. “The dresses were one thing, princess, but this? Don’t play dumb,” his dark eyes were now impossibly black. You were staring into the voids that indiscreetly roamed your body. It was entirely silly of you to now try and hide yourself from his hungry gaze.
BFF! Sugu who doesn’t let you leave. You were no match against his strong grip as he pulled you onto his lap. “You’re leavin’ me no choice,” he assured you, pushing you down hard against his thigh. You tried to push away but his hands on your waist locked you in. “No choice,” he reminded you. You swallowed thickly, realizing you were completely helpless as he began guiding your hips up and down his thigh. The rough material of your panties rubbing deliciously against your clit. “Sugu s-stop,” you begged him, all breathy and hot against his ear. “You want me to stop?” Of course! He was your best friend. You didn’t want him making you feel better than you ever thought possible by just rubbing your pussy against his leg. “But you look so cute like this,” he pouted at you, “Humping my thigh like a puppy. I’ll let go – but you better stop moving your hips,” he tutted at you. You didn’t have it in you to keep your eyes open to watch yourself continuously rut against him even after he removed his hands. It wasn’t your fault his muscled thigh felt more pleasurable than any toy you could ever buy.
Geto had plenty of girls at your school talking about their experiences with him. You spent your entire teen years hearing about his ‘magical tongue’ and ‘horse dick’. For the majority of your life you had little interest in getting to experience that part of your best friend – that was until the bastard from the baseball team. The absolute snore fest he put on for your first time was jarring. Maybe you were so used to hearing how life-changing Suguru’s hips were that you had high expectations...
No – you were not purposefully trying to get Geto to want you. He genuinely gave good advice when it came to what looked good on you. Ok so maybe you were pushing your luck with the lingerie – but Suguru was always so level-headed. It was scary how quickly he caved.
It was even more frightening listening to his taunts hot in your ear, “Why aren’t you stopping?” You couldn’t stop now – but you would. Just a little longer. You’d find the strength to stop soon. “Tell me you want me, or I’m stopping this,” he threatened and your form shook. “Please don’t,” you begged him. “Don’t what?” he lifted your chin, making you look at him “Don’t s-stop t-this,” you squeaked out.
BFF! Sugu whose rumors were true. His tongue was magical. His hands flew down to your hips, helping you roll deliciously against the fabric of his sweats while his wet muscle was hot against your nipples. He used his teeth to pull down the fabric so he could taste your bare bud against his tongue. He suckled and licked your sensitive nipple causing your arousal to seep past the lace of your panties. You began to soak his sweatpants but he wasn’t gonna have you stopping anytime soon. He pulled your hips into tight circles against him, overwhelming your nub. His teeth nibbled at your nipple and you jerked up at the sudden shock. His grip was bruising and you wanted – no needed more. “Sugu.. more.. need more” you sounded so pathetic.
BFF! Sugu who was left with little choice! His princess wanted more and more she was going to get. His head kissed your entrance, barely pushing in past the tip. You mewled, nails digging into his shoulders as he teased himself into you. “You think you can take me?” he asked you and you nodded fervently. He was thick and long – even his tip felt like he was tearing you in two. You wanted to be absolutely broken. “M-more Sugu,” you begged, trying to move your hips to sink down further. He kept you still – only allowing you to move if it was him dragging you down against him. Your slick was dripping down the rest of his cock, you were completely overwhelmed by the little attention he was giving you. One of his hands moved from your hips down to your clit, rubbing slow circles – barely ghosting above it. You were clenching on his fat tip and whining embarrassingly loud. He wanted to have you crying for his cock. He clicked his tongue at you, “I’m not convinced enough you want my cock.” He looked so unaffected as you shook, “I do! I need it, Sugu,” tears fell down your cheeks as you desperately tried to convince him.
BFF! Sugu whose hips slapped against yours at a brutal pace. He had you pinned into the loveseat, head down and ass up. A creamy ring formed at the base of his unrelenting cock. Drool was seeping from your mouth and onto the couch, the only thing you could think about was the way he was pounding into that gummy spot that made you dizzy. “No one could make you feel this way,” he promised you, “this pussy was made for me.” His pace was bruising, his balls slapping against your clit. He pulled your hips up farther, making you arch your back. Everything was so noisy – the sound of you meeting his hips, the squelch of his cock pulling in and out, and his grunts each time he felt his tip kiss your cervix. Geto looooved watching you take him so well. Each time his cock disappeared inside of you, only to reappear as he roughly dragged out of you. He didn’t know if you were purposefully squeezing him each time his hips pulled back. Were you trying to keep him buried deep? “Your date won't mind if I leave my cum in you, right?” he teased you – knowing full well you wouldn’t be going anywhere after he was done with you. “Dripping out of your pussy at dinner,” you couldn’t fathom him being able to laugh right now. “What would you even tell him?” he was imagining the scene playing out in his mind, “My roommate thought I was looking a little empty. Needed to stuff me full,” His smile lazy thinking about how he was claiming you tonight. He was fucking your tight little hole deliciously, making sure you could never be satisfied by anything other than his cock. You pushed your hips into his, making sure he reached as deep as possible. “You want to cum, princess?” he picked up his pace – which you didn’t even think was possible – your tits bouncing at each thrust of his hips. You nodded, pleading for him to make you cum. “God – cum on my cock. Want t’feel you squeezin me,” the rough pad of his finger met your clit, helping your pleasure meet its peak. “I’m cumming, Sugu,” you cried out to your best friend.
BFF! Sugu who wasn’t done with you once you came. You tried to claw at his hands on your hips, begging him to slow down. The tension in your tummy snapped, cumming undone loudly around him. He paid no mind to your pleas, “You can take more. You’re a good girl, I know you can.” He didn’t ever want to leave your snug pussy. He would fuck you all day if that’s what it took for him to feel satisfied. “Give me another, baby. Cum on my cock one more time. I know you can,” he was so filthy. You never had a guy dirty talk to you the way Geto was. He was demanding and unrelenting. It was alarming how much you enjoyed the filth leaving his lips. “How could you tell me to stop when she’s gripping me so tight – pussy doesn’t want to let go of me.” he threw his head back, “”S your fault I’m pounding you like this. I couldn't let you get away with showing me that little number.” The lingerie he was referring to was on the floor below you two, ripped into pieces from when he tore it off your body. He completely pulled out of you – leaving your pussy uncomfortably empty before flipping you over and folding you in half. He placed the back of your knees on his shoulder, wasting no time pushing himself back into you. The new angle took your breath away. His heavy frame held you down as his cock was unrelenting. When you looked down you could see his length slide in and out of you, your cute little pussy lips swallowing him whole. Your arousal coated his cock – all thick and creamy. You felt like you could pass out from the sight – not thinking it was possible to be so wet. His thumb reached down to your clit, rubbing harsh circles on it. “C’mon baby. I’m addicted to the way you squeeze my cock. Let me feel you cum again. Need it, princess,” he begged. He was slowly losing all control. You were so perfect underneath him, taking him like the good girl he always knew you were. You were wrecking him. Your sounds were so cute – choking back sobs as he fucked you to another peak. You were begging for him to cum inside you. You wanted to feel him coat your walls in his sticky juice. “Gonna pump you full,” he promised you. “Gonna feel so good stuffed full with my cum.”
BFF! Sugu who can’t stand watching his semen leak out of you. You were completely fucked out – chest heaving as you laid on the couch. Geto was still holding your legs up, trying fruitlessly to push his juices back inside of you.
BFF! Sugu who needs to make sure you keep all of it. He didn’t even wait for you to regain your energy before his thick fingers are deep inside of you. “Can’t let a single drop go to waste,” he tells you. He curls his thick digits, pushing against the squishy spot that makes you see stars. “No more,” you breathlessly say. “Just one more. Need to make sure it all keeps,” you are completely overstimulated. The feelings of his fingers are heightened by your two orgasms – which only makes you come undone even faster. His fingers are lightening fast and your pussy sounds like it's made of water. It’s so loud and wet and you just can’t help yourself from cumming again. You’re thrashing against his unrelenting fingers, crying loud enough that your neighbors definitely hear. “That’s it. S’good for me,” he’s emotional watching you come undone so many times by his doing. You were his. His, his, his.
BFF! Sugu who doesn’t even have to tell you to cancel your date. You couldn’t pick your head up after he was done with you. You were staying home with him – where you belonged.
#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#jjk smut#jjk x you#geto suguru#jjk suguru#jjk geto#jujutsu kaisen suguru#jujutsu geto#getou suguru x reader#suguru geto#geto x reader#geto smut#geto#suguru x reader#suguru geto smut#getou suguru x you#getou suguru x y/n#geto suguru x reader#geto suguru x you#geto suguru x y/n#suguru geto x reader#suguru geto x you#suguru geto x y/n#suguru getou#geto suguru smut#geto x you#geto x y/n
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united in grief.
f1 au/fic: in which, you’re jules bianchi’s little sister. you’re the same age as charles and grew up with him, when jules passed away your world completely fell apart, and you left monaco for paris. eight years after jules’s death you finally decide to comeback to monaco to visit your old friend.
charles leclerc x bianchi!reader.
fc: madison beer.
warnings: mention of jules bianchi, grief, angst, fluff.
note: happy eighth heavenly birthday, jules, we will always love and remember you, champion 🤍
y/n just posted a story!
caption: missed you monaco 🤍
_
you really thought about going back for a while, you missed you life in monaco so much. all your friends were here, your family was here, even after jules’s death they stayed, but you couldn’t. every step you took in the luxurious city reminded you of your brother. his presence was everywhere. you were seventeen when you lost jules, he was your whole world, you always wished you were the one in that car. you left monaco for paris because you needed a fresh start in a new city where you could walk without feeling the people’s eyes on you. but a small part of your heart wondered if leaving monaco meant that you were abandoning jules too. he was buried there after all, his soul was now forever in monaco and you were leaving to run away from him.
but your parents reassured you, and told you to fly with your own wings, to find your way, that no matter what jules would be proud of you, and would follow you because he was now your guardian angel. that reassured you a lot since your worst fear was to disappoint him. but your parents were right, jules was an angel when he was still here, and he’s still one up there. so whenever you felt bad, defeated, sad, you knew jules was around you, that gave you the strength to stand up and stay strong. you had to, for your brother. to make him proud.
that’s why you decided to attend today’s race. the monaco grand prix, your brother’s home race. he loved that circuit so much because he knew his friends and family were watching him and cheering for him. you came back without telling anyone, but of course your mother had to tell pascale, so the elderly woman immediately called you to invite you to have lunch with her and lorenzo, her oldest son. you couldn’t say no, because you missed the leclerc, but also because you knew how much you leaving hurt them. you left without saying goodbye, it was too hard for you, so once jules’s funeral was over, you packed your bag and left.
pascale and lorenzo welcomed you with open arms and big smiles, the mother apologised for charles and arthur’s absence but they were busy. charles… you were glad he wasn’t here because you didn’t know how you’d be able to look him in the eye. "you should go to the grand prix with us." lorenzo had told you, with his usual warm smile. at first you refused, but after thinking it over you realised that you owned it to charles, you left him behind when he was also mourning. of course it was harder for you since he was your brother, but jules was everything to charles. his second older brother, he was also lorenzo’s best friend. you hated yourself for being such a selfish coward. guilt was eating you alive and lorenzo noticed it. "don’t be too hard on yourself y/n, jules isn’t going to be happy." he smiled and you had to fight back your tears.
so you came with the leclerc to charles’ home race, you knew that your presence would be the only talk in town and on the internet. "oh my god, y/n!" someone yelled from behind you and you smiled when you saw ‘little arthur’ like you called him back then. he ran to you and made you spin in his arms. you laughed and brushed his hair when he finally put you down. "look at you! where is my little boy?" you asked, still laughing. he flexed his muscles and flashed you a cocky smile before pascale came to hit him in the head. "where is charles?" she asked. "getting ready in the garage, he’s really nervous, i think you should go say hi." he told you. you immediately took a step back, you were nervous as hell too, but for different reasons than charles. what if he didn’t want to see you? what if seeing you ruin his race? what if-… "he still talks about you y/n, he misses you so much you have no idea." pascale chimes in, patting your shoulder.
you were in front of charles’ driver room, you knew that he was just behind it. you could hear voices inside which had to be charles and his teammate. you closed you eyes and knocked three times before waiting. a tall and tan man opened the door for you, he smiled at you and you recognised him as carlos sainz. "isa is waiting for me, see you on track charles." he told charles. "it’s nice seeing you here, y/n." you smiled and watched him go. you took a deep breath before walking into the room. your hands were sweaty and you didn’t know where to look. "y/n?" you haven’t heard his voice in nearly a decade, so him calling your name startled you. "h-…" you couldn’t even finish that charles had closed the gap between you, pulling you in his arms. his face was buried in your neck and his arms were hugging you tightly. you were completely frozen, you didn’t expect him to be that affectionate after what you did to him. "charles, i’m so sorry for leaving." tears were now rolling down your cheeks. he broke the hug and immediately wiped your tears.
"sorry for what?" he asked, furrowing his eyebrows. his hands rested on your shoulders, his touch soothing you. "i’m not mad at you for leaving, y/n. i just wished i was here with you to help you through the grieving process." he smiled and you looked at the ground. he was too good to you, you didn’t deserve it. "you lost jules too, i acted like i was the only one grieving, i didn’t realise the impact my brother had on people’s lives." charles gently kissed your forehead and stroked your cheek. "let’s talk about that later, let me enjoy your presence, you don’t know how much i missed you." he hugged you once again, and this time you wrapped your arms around him, savouring the moment. "my lucky charm is back in town." you couldn’t refrain your laugh at his cheesy comment.
_
"and charles leclerc wins the monaco grand prix for the first time in his career!" the whole stadium cheered for the monegasque meanwhile you couldn’t stop crying. he won. he won in monaco. it was his goal and he did it. pascale hugged you while cheering for her son, lorenzo and arthur ran to their brother. but you stayed in your seat, looking at him jumping everywhere and celebrating with his brothers and carlos. then, when he turned around to face your direction he did something that sent shivers all over your body. he pointed at you, then at his heart, and then at the sky. this was jules’s celebration every time he’d win something and you were there to support him. he honoured jules even when he finally fulfilled his dream. "jules, you are so loved." you muttered to yourself, looking up at the bright sky.
liked by charles_leclerc, arthurleclerc, philippe_bianchi17 and 2 682 789 others.
y/n: coming back in monaco was hard, but i wanted to be here for charlie, i was scared at first because i knew that i handled my brother’s death terribly but in eight years i forgot how kind you were. i finally understood why jules loved you so much. congratulations on winning your first grand prix in monaco! i’m so proud of the man you became charles, i know that my brother is proud of you and will always look after you. je t’aime charlie ♥️
_
charles_leclerc: this one was for you, and of course jules, i’m so happy to have you back, je t’aime aussi ♥️
fan1: i can’t stop crying wtf
fan2: jules’ death affected everyone, even the people who never even met him, like me, he was such an angel
fan3: your brother is proud of you y/n! don’t be too hard on yourself!
fan4: we love you!
fan5: so happy to see you healthy!
fan6: man, this family suffered too much, i hope they’re happy now
fan7: charles and y/n relationship is so cute omg
fan8: the way he dedicated his win to the bianchi siblings 🥺
#f1 fandom#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#f1 imagine#f1 instagram au#f1 social media au#f1 x oc#f1 x reader#f1 x you#f1 au#charles leclerc x female reader#charles leclerc x y/n#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc#cl16#cl16 x reader#cl16 imagine#formula one x y/n#formula one x reader#formula one x you#formula one
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Aziraphale does NOT need to suffer MORE
Can't believe I have to say this.
TW: grief, mourning, death (sorry)
I have, since falling into the fandom 6 months ago to escape real life, seen many takes on how Aziraphale needs to suffer in S3 to match Crowley's suffering.
Mainly as the counterpart to the moment Crowley thinks he lost Aziraphale as he's looking for him desperately in the burning bookshop.
Then drinks, we suppose, to dull his pain, waiting for the Armageddon.
Also, the way Crowley suffers at the bandstand argument, the 'I Forgive You' moments, which many people find utterly devastating and incredibly heartless from Aziraphale.
Not to mention when he doesn't react in the 'right way' to Crowley's confession in the Final 15. And then on top of that, 'abandons' Crowley.
Oh and also for, and I quote: "The smug and entitled way Aziraphale went around in S2 assuming Crowley would love and follow him everywhere."
And for all this pain that Crowley endured for him, Aziraphale should suffer in S3, to I assume, even out the scores.
Some people want to see him lose it, show his emotions, to cry or beg or otherwise show how much he misses Crowley and how very sorry he is for what he's done.
Now for the TW grief content I motioned above. You can skip to the next sentence in bold.
WE ALL SUFFER DIFFERENTLY
I was on holiday late September last year, visiting my mum, stepfather and my two younger brothers. We went to a cousin's wedding. It was great.
The day after, as I was hanging out reading a book my mum got a call.
The kind of call every mother fears. My youngest brother (he was 27) died in an accident. We needed to speak to police and the coroner.
She cried and cried. She's still crying. She asks questions. She gets no answers.
I did not cry. I talked to the police. I googled a funeral home. I bought my brother his last set of clothes. He lived in a hoodie and torn black jeans. Mum wanted a suit. But he died in the one he bought for the wedding.
I texted a lot of people. I bought snacks for the many friends who came to the funeral and wanted to speak to us after.
My grief feels like a vice. I am not sad. I do not appear sad. Contrary to what people expect. But I am ANGRY. I am furious. But nobody can see this. I am not fine and I wish no one would ever* ask how I was again.
TW/Personal content over.
Since I was small (because I am weird like that) I genuinely wondered if, finding myself in danger, I could scream like people in films do. I don't think I could.
I cope with hard situations, fear and stress and anxiety by shutting down, sometimes by retreating too, by furiously trying to find a way out. And I think Aziraphale does the same. And that's why I love him so much. And why I feel get him and understand that people sometimes can't tell how much he's actually feeling.
I also express love the way Aziraphale does - by organising things for people I love, inviting them places, making plans. When Crowley said you call me for three things (and it's basically any old reason) I felt SO SEEN. This is what I would do with a friend who I know is feeling unmoored, sad, stuck. I'd text them with any old thing. I'd never actually say I love you, how can I help though, I would try to get them to talk, meet me, go somewhere.
Aziraphale does not express emotions the same way as Crowley.
But his emotions are valid nonetheless.
He is worried for Crowley from around 3 minutes into their acquaintanceship. And he NEVER stops worrying.
And are we quite sure he has never lost Crowley?
How many times did Aziraphale's heart freeze in horror when he realised Hell has taken Crowley and he had no idea if he'll ever come back and what is happening to him?
How did Aziraphale spent the night after vanquishing the demons and starting a war?
He had no idea where Crowley was.
He was probably sick with worry that Hell just took him away.
We didn't see him drink, but surely, the worry must have been overwhelming.
The wait for what will happen.
ALL his worries over the Arrangement.
Was he worried for himself?
Do we really think that?
Crowley thought he lost Aziraphale in S1, yes, we saw that.
And what happened to the angel then?
He got blown into atoms which I bet wasn't pleasant and when he arrives in Heaven he limps. Why is he hurt? Why is he quickly pretending he isn't?
Why is he always hiding how he feels?
Also, he immediately deserts, wants no part in the Holy War and quickly finds an extremely unconventional way to get back.
It's not a grand gesture, he doesn't deliberate, doesn't worry that he will Fall (although surely that must have been what he thought), there's no pomp around it, he thinks it and then does it.
No hesitation.
Is this coming from an angel who just can't leave Heaven behind and longs to be a part of it?
Who loves to follow rules?
And let's not forget in those moments Aziraphale thought Crowley was most likely gone. That he probably left for Alpha Centauri. Last he heard from him he was told he was talking to an old friend and had no time for him.
Why we NEVER talk about how that might have felt for Aziraphale?
Things are not as simple as Aziraphale has been supressing his emotions and lying to himself about how he feels and he should get over it and become free. That's not how this works.
He was suppressing his emotions OUT OF LOVE. His main goal was always to keep Crowley safe.
They simply couldn't run away or hoodwink Heaven and Hell. They had nowhere to go.
They had no hope and yet they kept loving each other. That's courage.
I know we all grew up with Romeo and Juliet and Heathcliff and Cathy and we FORGOT that those were CAUTIONARY tales.
And this is not what Aziraphale wants for them. He would never allow himself to go so fast he would hurt Crowley. He feels guilty enough for agreeing to the Arrangement and for meeting Crowley at all when he knows they can be discovered and punished at any point.
And Crowley knows it and RESPECTS it. He does not tolerate Aziraphale's decision to not go on a date and to hell with circumstances.
He understands Aziraphale's reasoning and he respects Aziraphale's decision.
Don't forget, they have NO POWER. They can't change Heaven and Hell. They can't stop believing in God and work on their religious trauma. Their Heaven and Hell are real places with real power and they BELONG to them.
Aziraphale's trauma and his personality are deeply intertwined and he'd probably never be the kind of person who is open in showing their grief or stress. He will learn to be more open, I' sure. With his love especially, we see him reaching for and touching his demon in S2. Openly being with him, looking at him without guarding himself. They got a little bit of freedom for themselves despite ALL odds.
So. Just because Aziraphale is not crying and screaming and I dunno, tearing his hair out or whatever some people would have him do, does not mean he isn't overflowing with pain, fear, uncertainty, doubts, worries, and so much anxiety that if he let it all out, half of the solar system would turn to ashes.
Aziraphale does not need to suffer in S3 to level out Crowley's suffering. They are, unfortunately, equal in their pain as they are in love.
If there is one thing Crowley would never abide, it'd be this take from the fandom.
* One more note on grief:
(obviously from my personal experience)
As initiated by @anthony-crowleys-left-nut in a comment
It's not that I mind to know people care and worry etc, but asking how I am can only end in me lying (fine, thank you) and both of us knowing it's not really true and feeling awkward or not lying (I feel like shit, mostly cos I can't sleep and think the world is a stupid unfair place) and both of us feeling awkward anyway.
Does that make sense?
I wish I could tell friends/colleagues to ask what I've been up to or something similar instead. What I've been reading (um, AO3, but I'll make something up), watching, do I want to go see some spring flowers bloom (I do).
#aziraphale#good omens#crowley#aziracrow#ineffable husbands#neil gaiman#ineffable divorce#aziraphale my beloved#good omens thoughts#aziraphale defense squad#suffering in silence#grief#tw grief#dealing with grief#loss#tw death#kaypost
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saying F U to the regime again and again: a quick update on women vs IR regime
Famous Iranian actresses have been appearing in public without a mandatory hijab. This has been happening since the beginning of the protests. Last month, Kiumars Pourahmad, a well known Iranian screenwriter and director, committed suicide. He had a history of criticizing the regime's political decisions. At his funeral, some of the famous actresses attended without mandatory hijab.
You can see Fateme Motamedarya, Katayoun Riyahi, and Golab Adineh in these pictures from the funeral. Ms. Riyahi was one of the first celebrities who took her hijab off at the start of the Jina (Mahsa) Amini protest and for that she's been the target of IRGC harassment and has been to court.
Last week, in the ceremony of screening of the final episode of Lion's Skin (a persian crime show), actress Pantea Bahram participated without hijab. The manager of Tehran’s Lotus Cinema, where the ceremony was held, was fired for letting her attend without hijab.
Other than prosecution, the regime has blocked these celebrities' bank accounts. Basij and IRGC members have also attacked and harassed these women online and in real life.
Students on university campuses take off their hijabs. There's an installed version of morality police in universities that monitor students' styles. Female students must wear "appropriate" hijab and male students must wear "manly" clothes (one of my guy friends once was asked to go back home and change his shoes because they were red casual loafers. Apparently that's gay!). When you enroll in Iranian universities, the first thing you do is to go to the security office and sign an agreement that says you promise to follow the Islamic dress code. There are posters all over the campus that says things like "hijab is security" "respect the islamic hijab" and "not wearing appropriate hijab (tight short clothes, too much hair, makeup, etc) would result in legal action". So not wearing hijab on campus, where a lot of security cameras are installed and it's easy to identify you, is a big deal.
The regime's response to students taking off their hijabs is sending threatening messages to students' phones and increasing the security people. At the entrance of Universities, these security forces check people's clothes and if it's not proper they won't let you in. Some of the students wear the hijab at the entrance and take it off after they're in. They have warned our professors to not let non hijabi students sit in classes too.
One of my favorite trends in Iran now is when guys wear our hijab. These pictures are from universities. Guys wearing hijab make the security mad. This is a great act of solidarity with women against the obligatory hijab.
Some men have been doing either this or wearing shorts in public. The former is to ridicule the obligatory dress code and the latter is because wearing shorts in public is forbidden for guys too.
And women not wearing hijab in general. Though hijab is not our only issue, we want a whole new political system, one that is not theocratic or terroristic, hijab is something the regime won't back down from because it's one of their strongest oppressing tools. If they let us win the fight against obligatory hijab, I quote from a regime head, "people keep demanding more changes"!
So to put people against people to enforce the hijab law again, the regime has closed down many businesses (hotels, cafes, malls, bookstores, etc) for welcoming non hijabi female costumers. They have also warned taxi and bus drivers to not let non hijabi women in their vehicles.
Although not everyone is disobeying the hijab law (some believe in hijab, some don't want to pay the price), the number of women who take the risk and don't wear hijab in Tehran and many other cities is high enough that you feel encouraged to keep doing it.
#iran#iran protests#iran revolution#mahsa amini#jina amini#jin jiyan azadi#women life freedom#politics#human rights#feminism#middle east#women revolution#obligatory hijab#university student#civil disobedience
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I can only be me when i'm by your side - i'm not a monster.
As time passes recovering, you've seemed to found your place in Jihyo's arms.
cw: fluff, smut, angst, petnames, virgin!reader, sweet girl!jihyo, popular but not so popular!jihyo, basketball player!jihyo, both are 18 but they are students, mentions of death, drunk confessions, they fall in love pretty fast, lwk rushed, lmk if there is more ^_^, ~ 4k words
if you're thinking "hm! i read this fic somewhere... yes! its my heeseung fic from my bg blog @adorwoo ! which i wanted to use for jihyo !^_^ hope you enjoy anyway.
men dni.
It's not your fault.
It's not your fault.
It's not your fault.
It's not your...
Is it really?
The rain beats down on your black umbrella, the lines from Dahyun's letter playing over and over in your head. It feels like you're trapped in a vicious cycle, not being able to think of anything else.
But why?
Why didn't she tell you?
Were all those conversations about the mutual trust between you two a lie? Was it just talk to keep you from worrying?
If someone had told you a week ago that you had to be at her funeral because she had killed herself, you would have laughed at that person. Dahyun was always the happiest person you've ever met.
Even if you had been told that a day ago, you wouldn't have believed it. Because in theory, it's the stupidest thing you've ever heard.
In his letter, she wrote about how much she loved you, how she enjoyed every minute and every moment with you, how it's not your fault that she's not here anymore.
She's probably right, not just probably. She's right, and you know it. But you can't stop blaming yourself. Someone has to take the blame. Someone is responsible.
You could have helped her.
You should have helped her.
Tears run down your cheeks as you stare at her grave. Her family, her friends, they are all gone. You stand here alone, not daring to leave.
'Kim Dahyun
Born on may 28, 1998.
A friend, daughter and lover.
She will continue to live in our souls.'
It feels like your eyes are glued to the writing, you can't look away. You try to regulate your breathing, taking a deep breath.
A sigh leaves your mouth as you place the white rose next to the gravestone.
You take one last look at her grave before turning and slowly walking away.
-
"I'm Y/n, nice to meet you all."
You look at the students in front of you, all of them giving you strange looks. Of course, you are a new student, but you feel uncomfortable under their gaze. The teacher smiles at you and tells you where to sit, next to a girl called Mina.
It's as if everyone has forgotten about you again as the teacher starts teaching. You sit down next to Mina and she smiles at you.
"Nice to meet you," she whispers. You smile at her.
You can't talk to her for long because she starts taking notes for the lesson. You look around at the faces of the others. It actually looks like a normal class, but your eyes land on a girl.
She looks shorter than you, her hair is brown as well as her eyes. She's wearing a white t-shirt.
"Have you laid your eye on someone?" asks Mina, laughing a little.
"No!" you answer, a little too loudly, and you put your head on the table as a few people look at you. "I was just looking at her," you whisper.
"Yeah yeah... that's what they all say" she says.
You slowly lose yourself in your thoughts as memories of Dahyun come flooding back.
Should you even look at other girls? Is it bad?
Would Dahyun hate you for trying to find love again?
It's been more than two months since she died, but you can't stop thinking about her.
Maybe it's normal, your behavior. Your overthinking of everything, maybe you're not the only person who feels this way? Maybe there is someone else who is just as lost in their thoughts as you are.
Maybe you are simply not alone.
However, your thoughts are interrupted by the bell and Mina.
"I can show you a few things here at school if you want," she suggests, and you gratefully accept her help.
You spend the whole lunch break running after her while she shows you around.
"Why did you change schools anyway? Your old one is a pretty well-known one, and much better than here," she asks, before taking a bite of her sandwich.
The question makes you wonder, and you think about whether you should just lie to her and say that you moved, or that you were somehow bullied at your school - but somehow it feels wrong. Because you neither moved nor were you bullied. No, everything was actually fine.
Actually,
Somehow everything changed after her death.
Your classmates started looking at you funny, and you still don't know whether they are looks of pity or looks of condemnation because they blame you.
"I don't know" is your answer, and somehow it's true. Sometimes you really have no idea why you changed schools, but Mina doesn't need to know the whole truth.
She just nods in response as she continues to eat.
"The girl you were looking at in English, her name is Jihyo by the way" she says.
What?
"Why are you telling me this?" you ask.
"Because you were staring at her a lot - you looked really interested in her" she replies with a little grin.
"How many times do I have to tell you, I wasn't staring at her..." you laugh a little, but can't hide your despair. Why does she think you're interested in her?
-
"Watch out!" someone shouts, but before you can react, a basketball hits you.
You fall to the floor, your head hurts and you feel slightly dizzy as you slowly open your eyes.
The girl from your English class is kneeling on the floor in front of you, looking at you, trying to see if you're okay.
It's like a cliché high school movie.
"Are you okay?" she asks, a couple of other girls come over, but she just tells them to get something to cool off and shoos them away.
The things that can happen when you want to visit the gym...
You nod slowly, after a few blinks your vision is no longer blurry.
Another girl comes back and hands Jihyo a cold pack.
"Here, take this," she says and puts it in your hand, her hand on your shoulder to support you.
You hold it to your head, biting the inside of your cheek slightly from the cold.
Before she can say anything else, she is called by his coach, at the same moment Mina comes to you.
"I was looking for you," she says and helps you up.
You watch Jihyo jogging across the field before you leave the gym.
-
New week, new luck?
Every day you tried desperately to talk to Jihyo somehow, but suddenly she was always gone after class and you were never put in a group together.
But it looks like luck is on your side for once.
"Here's the list of groups, you have to give a presentation in pairs on a play of your choice," your English teacher announces.
You look at the picture projected on the wall.
Chaeyoung and Mina,
Sana and Miyeon,
Jihyo and Y/n,
Jeongyeon and...
Wait, what?
You read the list again and once more you see your name and Jihyo's name next to each other.
"Jihyo and Y/n," you say quietly.
"Are you happy?" Mina asks teasingly with a grin on her lips.
"Are you happy that you have to work with Chaeyoung?" you ask back - Mina doesn't answer.
Before your teacher can give you any more homework for the break, the school bell rings and everyone rushes out of the classroom.
You walk (or rather, run) to Jihyo who is packing her things away.
"Hey, I was wondering when we should meet," you say, and she looks up at you and smiles. You feel your cheeks turning red.
She puts on his backpack and stands up.
"How about Friday afternoon? My place?" she suggests and you nod.
She takes a pen from her pocket, "Give me your hand," she says, you are confused but do it anyway.
She opens the pen with her mouth, the cap between her teeth as she gently writes on your hand.
Her phone number.
It feels like she's giving you an autograph.
"Text me and I'll send you my address," she says, and before you can answer, she walks out of the room.
You look down at your hand and see a little smiley face next to her number.
You can't help but giggle as you look at it.
-
You stare at your phone - up to her front door and back down to your phone.
You are 10 minutes early and don't dare to ring the doorbell.
"You know you can just ring the bell?" someone asks you, you look up and see Jihyo smiling at you.
"I'm early, that's why-"
"Not a problem," she interrupts you.
She lets you in and closes the door behind her.
Her house is beautiful, modern and yet somehow old-fashioned.
"My parents aren't here, so I thought we could study in the living room," she says, and you nod, leaning your backpack against the table.
"Water?" she asks and you take it gratefully.
You drink a little before she sits down across from you.
You both leaf through the books, take notes, talk briefly about certain passages, but otherwise no one says anything.
Jihyo decides to break the awkward atmosphere.
"I wanted to apologize again, for the basketball," she says, and you laugh a little.
"You don't have to apologize, things like that can happen," you reply.
"Have you ever had a girlfriend?" she asks, and instead of answering, you are completely silent, thinking.
Memories of Dahyun come back while Jihyo looks at you and waits for your answer.
"Yes, I did, but she died a few months ago," you answer.
She nods slightly, "Can I ask how he died?" she asks in a quiet, polite tone, as if she really wants to make sure that she's asking something that doesn't hurt you in any way.
"Suicide," you say, short and meager, without many details (whether you know many details at all is another question).
She looks at you with a supportive look, one that makes you feel like she's really listening and that she really understands you.
Maybe she understands you even more than you think?
She puts her hand on yours with a slight smile.
"Thank you for confiding in me," she says, your cheeks slightly flushed, hers too.
You both look at each other for a moment before she lets go and you both go back to work.
-
If only the work had gone on for longer.
After the one meeting, you saw her every day of the vacation. Always with the excuse that you supposedly "need to add something" (does going to the movies together add something to your project?).
It's been more than a week since you first met.
"You're in love," Mina says as she parks her car in front of Jihyo's house.
"I-"
"Don't even try to find an excuse, it's all good" she replies with a small grin.
You both get out of the car and walk to her house, the music so loud you can hear it several meters away.
How Jihyo, who is slightly drunk, hears the doorbell is also a mystery to you.
"Hey guys!" she greets you, she shakes Mina's hand and gives her a kind of high five, she gives you a hug.
You smile at her as the three of you walk into the living room.
"I'm going to Chaeyoung," Mina whispers, or rather shouts, in your ear before disappearing.
"Y/n, do you want to play a drinking game with us?" asks Jihyo, you nod.
Maybe it was a stupid decision.
Jihyo and her friends (of whom you only know Jeongyeon) only understand drinking games to mean taking shots and asking stupid questions.
Either answer - or drink.
You always chose the second option.
After about 7 questions (maybe more, maybe less - you lost count of that pretty fast) you get up and say that you need some fresh air.
Since you've been to her house several times, you know where the upstairs balcony is.
It's quite big, with a parasol and two folding chairs. You sit down on one and close your eyes, your head throbs a little.
"Are you okay?" someone asks after a few minutes.
To your surprise (not really a surprise), Jihyo stands next to you before sitting down on the chair to your right.
"Yeah, it's just the alcohol," you say.
You and alcohol, not really a good combination.
Especially not when you're sitting next to the girl you're in love with.
"Do you have a girlfriend?" you ask out of nowhere.
She shakes his head, "I thought it was obvious" she says and laughs a little.
"I love you" you confess.
She turns to you, but before he can answer anything, you keep talking.
"I know we haven't known each other that long... a month?? more? less? but-... I just have this feeling with you that I only used to have with her"
"I thought I'd never feel it again," you say, a tear running down your cheek.
Jihyo looks at you, her eyes slightly watery.
Is she crying too?
"Y/n" she says, interrupting your continued rambling.
She gets up, kneels down in front of your chair, and -
kisses you.
Her soft lips on yours.
She pulls away after just a few seconds and you already feel like you miss her lips.
"I love you too Y/n" she says softly.
You look at her in amazement.
"Really?" you ask.
"That's why I asked if you had a girlfriend" now it all makes so much more sense.
She pulls you up and takes you to the guest room. She tries to lay you down on the bed but you pull her with you and she falls on top of you.
You both stare at each other and laugh a little.
"You're drunk, get some rest," she says, kissing your forehead.
"I'll be here when you wake up"
-
And she really is next to you when you wake up.
"Good morning..." you groan as you rub your eyes.
She smiles at you, "good morning" she says, from the look on her face you suspect she woke up just a few minutes before you.
You pull her closer to you by her collar and kiss her, she kisses you back while her hand is on your cheek.
The kiss is just perfect, gentle, slow, a perfect way to start his morning.
But it can also be perfect in another way.
It gets warmer under the covers as you continue kissing, she kisses down your jaw to your neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses on it. You can't help but rub your thighs together a little.
"What about the others?" you ask.
"I kicked them out yesterday after you fell asleep" she says, continuing to kiss your neck, even nibbling on it, making you let out soft moans.
"Jihyo, I think you should know that I am a virgin" you say, your cheeks heating up a little in embarrassment.
She giggles a little, kissing you on the lips again.
"Nothing to be embarrassed about baby" she replies with a smile.
She gets on top of you, continuing to kiss you.
You think kissing Jihyo is the best thing in the world.
Her hands trail over your body, giving you a soft squeeze here and there.
"Can I?" she asks, her hand playing with the buttons on your pants.
"Please" you answer with a smile.
She complies and opens them, pulling off your pants and leaving you in your underwear.
You sit up a little, your hands on her waist, feeling up her muscles, especially her abs.
"Want me to take it off?" she asks, you nod.
She pulls off her shirt over her head, dropping it somewhere on the floor.
Your finger trails up his stomach to her bra, looking at her like she is a work of art (she definetly is one).
"Done admiring me?" she asks with a teasing grin, to which you reply "never".
She leans down again, kissing your face as she starts to trail them down till he arrives at the waistband of your underwear.
"Can I?" she asks again, "yes" you answer, already out of breath.
She takes your underwear off, her hands placed on your thighs as she leaves kisses everywhere.
You can definetly tell that she has a thing for kissing.
When she places a kiss right on your clit though, you let out a small moan.
She begins licking and sucking on it, making you grab her hair with your hands as your fingers curl deeper into her scalp, leaving a delicious burn.
She drags her tongue down as she circles your core, slowly entering it a little.
You let out more moans as you turn your head to the side, moaning into the pillow.
Her tongue feels so good when you realise that you are closer and closer to your climax.
"Jihyo- I think I'm gonna-"
"Let it out princess" she mumbles against your core, the vibrations of her voice stimulating you even more as you cum into her mouth.
She smiles at you as he sits up, watching you coming down from your high.
You smile back at him as your cheeks turn red again.
"Can I?" she asks, her fingers trailing down your soft skin as her nails scratch you a little.
You look at her hand, a few veins poking out, her fingers thin but long.
You look at her again, nodding.
You pulled her closer as she rubs your clit with her fingers, you suck in your breath as she slowly pushes them in, the little stretch burning in a way that makes you even hornier.
She slips them in completly, you let out a moan in response. She takes your hand with her free one as your fingers intertwine.
She starts to slowly thrust into you, kissing you again as her tongue explores your mouth.
"You're so tight baby.." she mumbles into your mouth.
You can't help but let out louder moans when she starts to speed up a little.
Her fingers drive you crazy, it feels like she is everywhere, you feel her everywhere in your body as she exits and enters you.
"P-please jihyo- faster" you moan out, and who would she be if she wouldn't listen to your wishes?
She speeds up her thrusts, kissing down your neck again as her hot breath hits your skin.
Your hand grips the pillow your hand is laying on, moaning against your arm as you can feel Jihyo curling her fingers.
She thrusts into you again before you moan loudly, cumming as your thighs close around her wrist, panting heavily as she lets herself fall onto the spot next to you.
You both stare at the ceiling, the only sounds the heavy breathing from you.
You move her hand to yours and intertwine your fingers. She moves her head to the side to look at you, smiling.
You think seeing her smiling is something you can never get enough of.
-
Idiots in love, thats how you two can be described.
The next few months were full of love. Kisses here, kisses there. It didn't even have to be sexual, no, it was always romantic, no matter what you did together.
After a few months, she gave you a ring.
"One day I'll buy you an expensive, real diamond ring and ask you to marry me," she said, and since then you've both worn the matching rings without taking them off once.
If only it had stayed that way.
It's late at night, you're lying in bed reading a book when you get a message.
"I love you,
I'm sorry" - from Jihyo.
You sit up and stare at your cell phone.
"What's wrong?" you type and send the message, she replies,
"I can't take it anymore"
She can't take it anymore?
You feel a twinge in your head as you suddenly realize something.
It's too similar to Dahyun's goodbye.
"I can't live in this world anymore" she wrote in her text.
You look at her location, and without hesitation you walk, no - storm out of your apartment and run to her.
She's not far away, a bridge situated over a river only 5 minutes away, and you think you've never been so grateful for anything.
You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to see anything while your clothes get wetter and wetter, the rain completly drenches you.
Again it feels like a cliché love drama.
Only maybe this time you have the chance to have a happy ending.
Your legs are burning from all the running as you arrive on the bridge.
"Jihyo!" you shout, the rain pattering loudly on the asphalt, forcing you to shout even louder for her.
Her bike is right next to her, one leg over the railing, her hands gripping it tightly, as if she's...
Scared?
"Y/n?" she answers, her voice low and shaky.
"Please..." you say as you walk slowly towards her.
She doesn't stop you when you take her hand in yours.
"Why didn't you tell me?" you ask, she looks at you as a tear runs down her cheek.
"I-... I didn't want you to worry. I thought this feeling would go away if I didn't talk to anyone about it," she says.
Whether your face is wet from the rain or your tears, you don't know.
"Believe me, you have to talk to me, then it will get better," you say.
Her face comes closer to yours and, without answering, she kisses you.
You kiss her back, try to grab her so you can hold her closer - but she lets go.
Completely.
You slowly open your eyes, afraid of what you will see - but you see nothing.
No one.
The rain completely overwhelms you.
"No..." you whisper, looking down on the floor and picking up something shiny.
Her ring.
You look out over the railing and see the water turning slightly red.
It feels like you're trapped in a vicious circle, like you'll never find peace again.
You are trapped, with no way out.
-
While other people find the rain soothing, you find it to be more like torture.
While other people would stay indoors in weather like this, you're outside again.
Again in front of a grave.
But this time it's Jihyo's.
Everything feels too similar and you hate it more than anything.
"It's not your fault" is a sentence you started to hate.
You hoped so much that you would never have to hear or read it again.
"Why didn't you talk to me..." you whisper, as if she could hear you.
Your hand clutches the letter, it slowly getting soaked by the rain.
You don't dare to move.
"You knew what happened..."
All time does is passing -
"Why did you hide it from me..." Your voice is full of despair.
And all you ever do is grieve.
"Life without you is no way to live" the white flower falls on his grave -
just like her ring,
engraved with your name.
She helped you recover from Dahyun's death.
You just wish you wouldn't have to recover over her death alone now.
In another universe, you've seemed to found your place in Jihyo's arms.
In this universe, you're left alone,
again.
#feeling silly#wlw#twice imagines#twice smut#twice x reader#girl group smut#jihyo#jihyo x reader#jihyo smut#jihyo angst#jihyo fluff#park jihyo#jihyo imagines#jihyo fic#nayeon x reader#jeongyeon x reader#momo x reader#sana x reader#mina x reader#dahyun x reader#chaeyoung x reader#tzuyu x reader#twice angst#twice fluff#tzuyu smut#chaeyoung smut#momo smut#nayeon smut#jeongyeon smut#sana smut
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No Need To Ask
Chapter Twenty-Seven - The Hardest Thing Is Letting Go
The Norris' were a notorious crime family in the UK. One of many. With Norris, the head of the family, running operations with his son, Lando, they work to keep Y/N Norris, Norris' daughter protected. Life in a crime family wasn't something they wanted for her.
But with tension with one of the Spanish crime families rise, Norris and his now deceased wife come up with only one plan, offer their daughter to the Sainz's or risk an all out war.
1.9K words
Warnings: Funeral
guy's im still so sorry for this one, it's incredibly angsty - I promise I'll make things fluffier soon
Series Masterlist
"There was a time when I was afraid of the world. I was afraid of what was happening in my life and what it was becoming. I was afraid of the world we find ourselves being apart of."
Y/N had never addressed a room like this. Each and every mafia boss stared at her. Her own husband stared at her, with admiration in his eyes, Lando too. He was so proud of his little sister for doing something like this.
She shouldn't have to do it. The fact that she was standing in front of everybody to honour her best friend was astounding.
Tears were ready to fall, but Y/N wouldn't let them. She was going to be strong. For Oscar.
"There was one person who I could count on when I was this scared. He watched over me, kept me company and made me feel normal. There were times when I was breaking down and he'd play some music and get me to dance, taking my mind off of everything.
"That man was Oscar Jack Piastri."
She'd started writing this letter the moment that Carlos had gotten her back to Spain. It had started out as a letter to Oscar, with a lot more in it than she was willing to say in his funeral.
"Oscar wasn't a part of the Norris family," she continued. "In theory, we were never destined to meet. Every day since he first came into my life, I thank my lucky stars that we had him on loan from Webber."
Her hands shook as she turned the page.
"Without Oscar, I wouldn't be here today. He saved my life in so many ways. There was a time in my life, without him by my side, I would have ended it all."
The tears were free flowing now. Carlos stood from his seat and came to stand beside his wife, trying to gently coax her to sit down, but she wouldn't. She had a a speech to make.
She skipped over the next little section. That bit was for her and her only. "Oscar was the bravest of us all. He endured so much. He didn't have to be harsh or domineering to show just what power he had.
"But he was also kind and sweet." He was my soulmate, in the most platonic sense of the word.
Platonic, Y/N thought. But a small part of her was so sure, had circumstances been different, it would be Oscar she was in love with, Oscar who was holding her through the night. Even if they were still in with world of crime and mafia families, if Y/N didn't have to marry Carlos, she was sure she and Oscar would have been together.
She knew this before she got married, but she couldn't say anything. In another universe she would have loved Oscar.
"He saved my life more than once, and I will never be able to repay that debt," she said, wiping away the tears rolling down her cheeks. "He was the very best of us and our world will never be the same without him. Oscar-" But she stopped, just a second to compose himself. "Oscar..."
This time, when Carlos wrapped his arms around her, Y/N fell into him, crying against his chest. He held her for a moment, stroked her back and ran his fingers through her hair.
He moved Y/N behind him and addressed his fellow heads of family. "Oscar became a very dear friend of mine. Without him, I wouldn't have my beautiful wife standing by my side. To that, I say we raise our glasses-" Nobody had a glass in hand "-to a man we will sorely miss."
It was different to the funeral of Norris. The grief Y/N felt was different, harder to deal with.
After the funeral, Carlos took his wife home. They sat in the very back of the car as they were driven to the Webber plane hangar. Lando had organised food for everybody for after the funeral, but Y/N just couldn't be here. And Carlos knew it, too.
They sat beside each other on the jet, her head on Carlos's shoulder as she cried herself to sleep. Oscar was gone. The words still felt foreign to her.
It was incredibly long flight, with the couple stopping over in Malaysia. They had been the ones to take Oscar's body back to Australia, back to his family, to be buried. It meant a long trip for them, but they didn't care. After all that Oscar had done for them, this was the least they could do for him.
It was near a day later that they touched down in Spain. Their stay in Madrid had been short lived, just long enough to refuel the Spain. They should have stayed in Australia, the couple thought. But that was too painful.
Carlos drove them back to the house. He kept his hand on her leg as the radio played quietly, filling the space between them. They didn't have to speak; it wouldn't help anything for the time being.
"I wish he could have met baby Oscar," she whispered as they approached the gate in front of the house. She cradled her bump with one hand, the other on top of Carlos's.
Before the funeral, Carlos had insisted that they go to the hospital, for Y/N's first prenatal check up. They found out just how far along she was and the sex of the baby.
As soon as they found out they were having a boy, she knew they had to call him Oscar. Oscar Sainz, after the man that had saved his life. His middle name was chosen by his father. Pau, a Spanish name. OP Sainz. Their baby was OP Sainz.
Carlos drove through the gates when they opened and pulled into the garage. He opened the car door for Y/N and held her hand as they walked through the house. The house was different now, it felt colder somehow.
"I'm going to get us guard dogs," he said as they climbed the stairs.
Y/N nodded her head as she walked through the hall, heading towards the room that Carlos and Oscar had decorated for the baby. She hadn't seen it yet, just listened as Carlos told her about it to try and calm her down.
Her breath caught in her throat as she walked into the nursery. "You two did all of this?" She asked as she looked around the room, They had done everything, put up shelves and built the drawers and wardrobe. They'd painted the walls and set up the crib, including a little tee-pee tent full of cushions and blankets.
There was a blanket in the crib, one decorated with giraffes. Y/N picked it up and held it close to her chest as she looked around the room. Her husband and her best friend had done all of this for her baby. It was a living memory to Oscar, just like the baby would be.
"I'm thinking of painting his name on the door," said Carlos as Y/N turned towards him.
Y/N put the blanket back and fell against her husband, pressing her lips to his. "My wonderful husband," she whispered, her eyes closed as he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her softly.
He took her hand and walked her out to the window. "Take a look," he said and she looked to where the golf course used to be.
Carlos had set up an entire play area for their child. If Y/N had the strength to cry, she would have. But she couldn't anymore, her body too exhausted.
"What would you like for dinner, mi corazon?" He asked, his finger trailing up her arm.
"I just want to sleep, Carlos," she croaked, exhausted.
That was fine, he'd let her sleep. Carlos followed her out of the nursery. He watched as Y/N turned left, heading back to her old room. That was right, he hadn't told her yet. "Querida, wait!" He called as he grabbed a hold of her arm. "This way."
Carlos led her into his bedroom, the bedroom they now shared. He'd moved all of her things in during those twelve weeks that he had been alone. He sat her on the bed and got her changed into her loosest and comfiest pyjamas. "Sleep, mi corazon. I'll have dinner for you ready when you take up," he said and pulled the sheets back.
Y/N climbed under it. She closed her eyes as Carlos kissed her forehead and left the room.
He spent the next few hours making his way through work. It was comforting, having things back to normal. Or, as normal as they could be. Most of the work he went through was sorting through his fathers affairs.
After three hours of working, there was a knock at the office door. He glanced up briefly and returned to his work. "Not now, madre," he muttered under his breath as he strode into the room.
"¿Y? ¿Ya no hablamos nuestra lengua materna?" She asked as she sat in the seat opposite him. (And? Don't we speak our native language anymore?)
Letting out a sigh, Carlos looked up from his work and placed his pen down. "Podemos hablar nuestra lengua materna, madre. ¿Qué te gustaría hablar?" (we can speak our mother tongue, mother. What would you like to talk about?)
"No hemos tenido una cena familiar desde que murió tu padre," she said, correcting her posture and sitting up straighter. (We haven't had a family dinner since your father died.)
Carlos shut his eyes for a moment. It was their first night back in the house since Y/N's kidnapping. "Por favor madre. No es una cena familiar a menos que mi esposa esté allí. Después de todo lo que él ha pasado, ella necesita tiempo." (please mother It's not a family dinner unless my wife is there. After everything he's been through, she needs time.)
He stood up. "Now, if you'll excuse me," he began as he switched back to English. "I'm going to make my wife some dinner."
Carlos strode out of his office, leaving his mother where she was.
And he really did make Y/N dinner. He didn't ask the cooks to do it, he got stuck in and made her something to eat. It was surprising, just how good of a cook Carlos was. It was also surprising how much he enjoyed it.
He made her dinner, along with a side of buttered toast, just in case she didn't want what he made her. He walked it up to the bedroom and placed it on the dresser as he gently woke her up. He whispered her name and shook her shoulder gently. "Wake my, mi amor. I made you dinner."
Y/N opened her eyes. It was clear from the way she stared at him, eyes wide, that her sleep hadn't been peaceful. Carlos placed the plates in front of her as she sat her. "Here, querida," he said and pulled the cutlery from his pocket.
She dug into her dinner, eating it all (including the toast). "My wonderful husband," she said as he placed the plates back onto the dresser.
Carlos climbed onto the bed and sat himself beside her. He grabbed a hold of her and pulled her onto his lap. "I love you," he whispered, his forehead pressed against hers. "My beautiful wife. I'm never going to let you go."
She grabbed his cheeks and lifted his mouth to hers.
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Unholy Contrition
Rafe Cameron immediately wrote you off as some Bible thumping prude. And when his father died and left the entire fortune to him, he absentmindedly chose your father, A preacher, to speak at the funeral. But he catches something about you that reminds him of his favorite Porn Star. And he decides he’s going to corrupt you. What he doesn’t know is…you’re not as innocent as you act.
Okay guys the horny demon got me and I once again had to write about cocaine daddy because I’m addicted to him. Thank you so much to @xxhellfirebunnyxx for helping me with this and beta reading. I love you dolly.
Word count 5K!
Moodboard
Warnings! Talk of religion (duh) reader is a porn star, masks, masterbation, slight cat and mouse, choking, degrading, oral, unprotected sex! Virgin reader! Daddy kink! Kinda perv reader tbh but same. Slight breeding kink. And barely proof read I apologize.
Disclaimer: female in photos just for aesthetic purposes!!
When Rafe first saw her, it was at the annual outdoor movie where the pouges and Kooks got together. The pouges served food and drinks while he and his family sat comfortably in the front row. Topper, Kelce and himself watched JJ and Pope after their encounter. He thought they knew better than to fuck around with him and his friends. But he’d have to teach them. Burn it into their brains.
He was Rafe fucking Cameron. And they would learn their god damn place.
“Watch them.” He told Kelce and he got up. Kiera was getting a drink and this was an opportunity to assert his intent.
“Tell your boy, we know what he did.” His warning did nothing to sway her loyalty as she walked away. He smirked and then it fell when a girl was walking up to the line. It was the Preachers daughter.
He towered over her like most people but what caught his attention was the high neck shirt, covered thighs and worse. A cross on her neck and a wrap around cross bracelet around her hand. Her hair was in pig tail braids. She had doe eyes and bitten pink lips.
And she was carrying a fucking Bible. Which was a shame. She was pretty. Beautiful even. But he hated the church.
“Excuse me,” She whispered and moved past him. He had an urge to snatch it out of her hands and throw it. But he had more important things to do.
“Yeah; go ahead Jesus freak.” He hissed, bending down to say it to her ear. Her eyes widened and her brows pulled together.
“I-“
But he walked off. He wasn’t going to waste him time when he had two pouges asses to kick.
Your dad gave funeral talks all the time but now you were weirdly excited to go. Not that you were excited about Ward’s death but more about who’s attending. Rafe Cameron would be there and you actually thanked god for it. It wasn’t that you didn’t have your own belief system but the entire restriction? Fuck no.
But for the sake of your poor older father, you kept up the good girl facade. It was easy really. Keep everything simple, light pastel clothes while hiding what was underneath. Your nickname was Kitty from the cat ear beanie you had since you were a teenager. But your dad had a variety of nicknames for you.
All of them were gentle. Pure.
You adjusted your white lace turtleneck before your hands settled on your ankle length pink skirt. The very sight was way out of your true style but it would do for the service. Your white socks and black Mary Jane’s. Your cross bracelet, and necklace was a little overkill.
But no one knew how you used the cross in secret on your only fans.
The black thong you were wearing was already growing wet as you stood next to your father waiting for him to arrive. He greeted everyone with a handshake. Your eyes drifted over the crowd, mascara thick on your lashes as you subtly rose to your tiptoes. Damn, was he late to his own fathers funeral?
“Kitty, look who it is. Hello, Sarah.” You forced yourself to smile. She was crying with Topper on her arm. Apparently she and John B, Rafes arch nemesis, had broken up. For now anyway.
“Hi, Sarah, I’m so sorry…” You gave her a genuine hug and she squeezed tightly.
“Thank you, kitty.” She sniffed.
“Mr. Cameron, now that you’re here-“ You tried your best not to snap your head too directly in his direction but you slowly turned your head.
Rafe was wearing a suit and his hair was slicked back out of his eyes. Different than he had been running around a few weeks prior before he inherited the entire fortune.
He seemed…more unhinged. Something in his eyes flashed when he saw you, drank you in like a man after a day in heat. You gave him a sympathetic smile and you rolled your ankles, trying to seem smaller. More vulnerable. “Hi…Mr. Cameron. I’m so sorry for your loss…” You murmured.
His strong hand engulfed yours, his fingers long, covered in gold rings and warm. You looked into his blue eyes, shining on you and he said. “It’s still Rafe, little bunny.”
The nickname made you want to cum in your panties but you ducked your head with a blush. But you couldn’t blame him with your modest clothes and makeup. He returned to speaking with your father and you tried to keep your glances to a minimum. He was going to work for it.
The service was simple. Outdoors and you stood next to your father. You held a small Bible that was gifted to you in middle school as your cross dangled from in between your fingers. Rafe was staring at you. You could feel it but you wouldn’t give him the chance to meet your gaze yet.
You had a lollipop in your pocket. One you took out of your collection as you left your house. You always sucked on something. Your cross. Your dad wouldn’t think twice as you subtly unwrapped the paper and slowly licked a circle around the candy. Your tongue was lewd as you then pressed it passed your swollen lips.
You took another measure by your pointer and thumb pushing it back and forth and then you stuck it further…until it hit the back of your throat. Playing dumb, you gasped quietly and coughed. Wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, lipstick slightly staining. You then took an opportunity to look at Rafe.
His jaw was tight and he was biting his lower lip. Blue eyes were darkening as he inhaled the process of your action. His chest moved up and down rapidly. You wanted him to know you were baiting him. But you also wanted to fuck with his mind. So you did the most reasonable thing your thoughts came up with.
You gave him a small wink.
After the funeral, he was out of your sight. But you took the extra step by linking your second account on your instagram story. You knew he would watch it.
Your obsession with Rafe Cameron started in high school. He was a few months older so he graduated sooner. But when you first saw him, hanging around other girls and guys at the private school. Disobeying rules but having enough family power to ignore them. Turned you on. His rebellion was something you craved. Your attraction only grew when you saw him one day yank a girl into a closet and you heard how good he made her feel. Granted, you hid right outside the door. You wanted to be her.
You want him to throw you around. Use you. Take you like you were only made to be his little toy. Your fantasies only grew when you followed him on social media, he was public so you had fast access.
What he didn’t know was that you used your second account. Where you wore your sluttiest clothes without showing your face. You posted stories about sexual thoughts, songs and thirst traps of your body. And he commented on every single one.
“Fuck, I wanna see your pretty face.”
“I want to fuck you. Fuck your throat. Watch you leak with my cum.”
It was an endless amount of fun. You knew he wanted you. He just didn’t know you were both versions yet. And each response you gave him, ended with a wink.
“Kitty, you look tired. Do you want to head home?” Your father asked. You nodded sheepishly. Finally, you could get home and post more on only fans. You knew he would watch as well.
“Thank you, dad. I’ll see you later.” You gave him a kiss on the cheek and started to the car.
It wasn’t an accident you parked across from him and you saw him walking in the direction. You dipped your hand into your pocket, acting like you were searching for your keys as you dropped a thin fabric on the ground. Quickly, before he could approach you, as you heard his shoes you got into the driver's seat.
Playing dumb was simply picking and choosing when you showed innocence. As you drove away, your plan cemented and you bit your lip.
Getting home and settling into your bed, you wore the lingerie Rafe always requested. Normally you charged him more, but you’d give him a treat today. You pulled out your rabbit, spitting on it and slathering it with lube. You barely needed any on your pussy as you set your phone exactly where it showed the best angle.
You wore the cross on your bracelet as you traced your clit with it. A lot of girls did this but Rafe would consider that it’s yours. Maybe he wouldn’t. The doubt would drive him crazy. Just like he drove you crazy.
He was infamous for snorting coke at parties you were never invited to and you imagined smearing it across his gums before licking them. Or his strong fingers holding you down as he did a line on your body. What you wanted most? Being pinned down as he spat on your mouth and slapped your pussy. These thoughts drove you to easily slip two fingers inside as you grind onto your hand.
“Fuck me, daddy. I need you.” You whined. You wish he was here. You wish it was his hand instead of yours.
You tried to hold back, usually taking longer for a video but you came extremely quickly. As you laid there, sweaty and still needy. You glanced at the notifications. They were repeated. Sliding on your side, exposing your bare ass, you picked up your kitten mask and read the messages.
They were all from Rafe.
He was sending money. “Please, let me see that fuckable face. I’m begging you, kitten. I need it. I need to fuck that soaking pussy. Daddy needs you.”
You had to bite your lip to keep from chuckling.
Normally, you just winked. But this time, your fingers swiped and you replied.
“Work for it, daddy.”
Rafe couldn’t get the image out of his head of you sucking the lollipop out of his fucked up head. You were the preacher's daughter for god's sake. Someone he teased for being some sort of Bible thumper and she probably didn’t even know what kinky meant. But…god she was pretty. The way she innocently batted her eyelashes at him like a bunny. That was what stuck out to him. A little bunny rabbit.
And then she winked at him. It felt so pointed. Purposeful. She also dropped a black damp thong on her way to her car. Rafe snatched it up before anyone could ever see it and he half scoffed and moaned. A creamy stain that was recent. Either she secretly touched herself or she was so wet that it soaked through and ran down her pretty legs.
The last words of the mystery girl on Only fans, who was his favorite porn star, gave him more than a wink this time. Work for it, daddy.
It made him cum all over his hand again just from her words so he couldn’t even imagine her pussy. But the doubt. The doubt was there. But she was-he clenched his fist. It was during the day and he had a second to breathe in between meetings.
Rafe typed her name on instagram.
As he suspected, it was mostly scenery shots, half faced selfies and photos with your father. A few of them you were smiling, apparently whoever took the photo made you laugh when you were at the beach. He almost swiped to another photo when he narrowed his eyes.
It was very small. He almost missed it but there was a small…handprint? Right below your swimsuit above your thigh. It had to be your hand, given the size but his mind drifted to a particular video where mystery girl spanked herself to his request. Was he being paranoid? He looked at another photo, a flashback to your graduation where John B took you to prom. And he felt at twitch in his jaw. But not before another detail caught his attention.
Underneath your bracelet. Left wrist. He saw a black mark. Not a mark, he zoomed in, careful not to like the picture.
It was a tattoo.
He couldn’t see what it was but his eyes widened. Mystery girl also had a tattoo there.
But you couldn’t possibly have one. Not the preachers daughter. Weren’t they forbidden or some shit? It was starting to drive him insane when his alarm went off.
“Fuck.” He muttered to himself and clicked the button. Turning his screen black. It couldn’t be you. Not this innocent girl who called him Mr. Cameron. But what if it was? He’d have to find out for himself. Anyway he needed to.
And here he was. At fucking church. He couldn’t remember a time he was here other than his dads funeral. Your dad was on the stage, flipping through a book he assumed was the Bible when he looked up.
“Mr. Cameron. What a pleasant surprise. Kitty, guess who’s here!”
He tried to keep his expression neutral as you came from a door on the left side. You wore a long light colored dress right above your ankle with the same shoes as the funeral. Your hair was in two braids with a kitten beanie, in this weather? And you still wore your two crosses.
But you were so pretty. Prettier than last time if it was possible. You gave him a small smile, ducking your head. “Hi, Mr. Cameron.”
He neared you both, trying to think of a way to subtly touch you without catching the attention of your father.
“Rafe. Um. I just wanted to stop by. Say thanks for the service. It-helped. Especially with Sarah. She’s all emotional and shit.” He quickly glanced at your dad. “Sorry.”
“No need. Freedom of speech is a gift. But you don’t need to thank me. It was Kitty who told me about him as well. So I could make it personalized.”
Rafe swore your eyes flashed. Just for a second. So he pushed. “You did? You friends with Sarah or something?”
You twirled your hair, apparently sucking on some sort of candy. When you opened your mouth, your tongue was red. “Yeah! We talk sometimes. I just wanted to help, you know?” You started sniffing. “I can’t imagine losing my dad.”
“Oh, honey…”
Rafe cleared his throat. Desperate to get you alone. “Hey-can I talk to you? Just for a minute, I wanted to ask you something.” He eyed you carefully and you nodded. Your dad didn’t seem suspicious. Which made his doubt increase.
Maybe the wink was a fluke. A nervous habit? Or maybe you did that to everyone.
You both stepped away, slowly walking down the aisle. He felt uncomfortable, wearing a suit when he wanted to feel loose. It was too constricting. You played the cross on your bracelet. He raked his brain for something or someway to look at your arm. He had to prove that you didn’t have a tattoo and he was just crazy.
“So, what did I want to talk about?” You prompt him and he clears his throat.
“I’m-“ Oh, no. What could he possibly say? “I’m trying to be more spiritual. You know, with my dad dead. I just want to have hope, you know? That I’ll see him again someday. I would ask your dad but you know. You’re more my age-“
“Oh, Rafe. You don’t have to explain yourself. Do you want me to help you? I can just…go over scriptures with you. Meet with you here. Doesn’t have to be complicated.” The way you said his name made him feel insane.
You had a tilt to your voice. The way you said the word. You didn’t sound like a little mouse for an instant. You sounded-confident. And then it quickly disappeared as your eyes flicked away. “Only if you want, I mean if you don’t, I understand-“
“No, I’d love that. And I also wanted to apologize for what I said. A while back.” This was the most awkward conversation he’d ever had in his life. You started twirling the end of your hair with a painted fingernail.
He squinted, trying to see any sort of ink. Nothing. He was right. And now he was stuck with some sort of scripture offer. “I-“ and then you stretched.
Your arms over your head and he didn’t know where not to look. Your tits were lifted, your neck exposed and then he saw your sleeve lift.
It was a black butterfly tattoo. It was medium sized. Pretty. And then he saw a few more peeking on yiur skin. Mystery girl had the same tattoo but it looked like you had more. Rafe snatched an opportunity.
“I like your tattoo.” He complimented. Hoping to get some sort of answer.
“Oh, thank you. The first one is from a while ago but the rest are new. Dad doesn’t approve but I promised to keep them covered up.” The candy you were sucking on. You rolled it around in your mouth and Rafe was bouncing with some sort of frazzled energy.
“What do you do? Outside of church?”
“I make jewelry. My own business. Sarah actually bought a few things. It’s obviously not Cameron level but I do pretty well.” A blush reddened your cheeks. Jewelry making? Damn. He didn’t have a fucking clue. But why did you wink?
He was going to lose his mind.
“That’s cool. I’ll have to-“He checked the time. He stopped here before going to the building for work.
“I have to get going. But I’m glad we talked. And I’m sorry again.”
“It’s okay, Rafe. I understand. Besides, I was still in high school and I was a little awkward.” You giggled behind a hand. Your smile was adorable and he had an urge to cup your face.
What was he doing? What was this end goal?
“Yeah, me too. Um-“
“Here,” You brought out your phone and opened the number key. “Just put your number in here and I’ll let you know when we can get started if you still want to!” She chirped as he quickly typed in his number.
Her phone in his hand was so small and he felt a twitch in his crotch. Her camera roll. It could be so easy. Just a Quick Look. Just to see. Just to be sure. But to his surprise, you took it back before he had a chance.
“It was nice to see you,” You nodded with a smile.
“Yeah! You too.” He said quietly and watched you walk away. His mind was even more fucked.
Who were you? Or who was the mystery girl? For once in his life, he did consider praying for an answer.
Getting more tattoos at the same time he showed up at church wasn’t planned but it worked out exactly to your favor as you shut your room door with your hip and set your bag down. But you saw the wheels turning in his head. He was taking the bait and you smirked. This was almost too easy. Trapping him. But he was so desperate.
You needed to spark something in him, either get him to ask directly or get him to cave.
Adjusting your hair in your car mirror, you scanned your white dress for any stains. The small flowers decorating the fabric and your cross on your body. But this time you wore a pair of boots that your father nearly had a heart attack with. They were completely different than you normally wore. But you needed more proof that you were his favorite little bunny.
The church loitered with a few people, as they normally did after a Sunday service. Your knee bounced as you waited for Rafe as you sat in the front. You had a few scriptures in mind, ones to stir him and you knew he’d never imagine were in the Bible.
“Sorry, I kept you waiting.” His raspy voice caught you by the surprise but you slowly turned and looked up at him.
Rafe wasn’t in his suit today, instead his casual clothes but there was nothing casual about the way he was staring at you. His eyes were on fire. Full of desire and confusion.
“Oh! That’s okay, Rafe! I wasn’t waiting long! Please sit,” you scooted over and he seated next to you. His knee against yours. You didn’t move it.
“So, you want to hear a few scriptures, or I can pray for you, which would you prefer?” You spread your legs a little and Rafe swallowed. His jaw clenched.
“Uh-I-i don’t think I’ve ever prayed before. So the Bible is fine. I just want to make peace, you know. With my dad. But I have another problem.” You raise an eyebrow.
“There’s someone I really want. And I know it’s…against the lord of whatever. And I need some help. What should l do? How do I resist it like you?” His question hung in the air and your chest tightened. You were so tempted to tell him but that’s not what you wanted.
“Well. I just listen to what the Bible says about that. It keeps me strong. What it says is clear.” You nodded. You opened the book on your lap, “1st John 1:9 ‘if we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness’” you looked at him.
“So, if you confess, God will help you.”
Rafe bit his lip and leaned in closer. “This girl. She’s a fucking porn star,” he growls. “And she wears a little kitten mask and she fucks herself all nice and obedient for me. But the problem is she teases me like a brat. She never shows her face even though I give her more money than she’s ever seen. She’s her fathers only child but she calls me daddy. And had the nerve to tell me to work for it. She fucks her cross on her pussy when she knows damn well I could do it better. But she hides. Hides behind this little innocent act with the holy Bible and looks at me with eyes that make me want to rob every single innocence away from her and expose her for the whore she is. And baby, I think it’s you.”
Your core was dripping on the bench. You were almost shaking with want and you almost had to look away from him. You felt exposed. He did figure it out. You weren’t quite prepared as you thought with his reaction. Despite your activity behind your close door, you hadn’t fucked anyone all the way. Making out with friends at sleepovers was as far as you got in real life. Your obsession with Rafe made you wait. You always knew he’d be yours. And you made it happen.
“I-“ he held a finger against your lips, cutting you off.
“No, no, no, see you’ve fucked around with me a little too long, little girl. Now, I get to show you exactly how big of a mistake that was. So, you’re going to go home and think long and hard about what’s going to happen next. For once, I think your God isn’t going to protect you from me.” Rafe pulled away and stood.
“How does it feel to be left high and dry? And by the way, nice tattoos.” And then he winked at you.
You gasped as he walked away.
Your thighs were growing damp from the leaking arousal and you were breathing heavily. Holy shit. It worked. You bit your lip as you pulled out your phone.
He had texted you. “What’s wrong? Cat got your tongue?”
When you got home, your dad was out. He was gathering his sermon scriptures and then to spend time with his small circle of friends. You told him you didn’t feel well enough to go. Your mask was secure on your face as you took photos in your bra and panties.
You planned on making more content but it was getting harder because you wanted Rafe so badly. You wanted him to fuck the brat right out of you, making all your dreams come true from his earlier talk. Pouting, you started going through tik tok, laying on your stomach. But then a noise caught your attention. Sitting up, you went to grab your robe when your door was bashed open.
Eyes wide, you see Rafe walk towards you, with a sadistic smirk on his face. He tilted his head, trailing his blue irises over your body, your naked knees pressing together.
“Hey kitty.” He said, stalking towards you. Rafe kneeled on your bed before grabbing your ankles. You shrieked as he dragged you towards him and loomed over you. “The mask was a really nice touch, baby.” Rafe glanced at the cross on your neck after he tore off your mask and threw it. He pulled it, tugging you up.
His breath hit your mouth. “You want to be my slut? All those fucking videos for me. Making me crazy. Making me doubt myself. You’re gonna regret it. Open your fucking mouth.”
You immediately obeyed and Rafe spit inside. He grabbed your jaw and closed it.
“What’s wrong? What happened to that little brat? Aw, she’s done isn’t she? Fuck, and I haven’t even done anything.” He tapped your cheek harshly. You felt his silver rings against your skin.
You were trembling but you grabbed his face and smashed your lips together. You tried sitting up but Rafe would have nothing less than submission as he pinned your hands above your head and dominated his tongue in your mouth. He kissed you with brutal force and you almost came just from that. All these years and it was better than you could have ever imagined.
He ripped away and wrapped his hands around your throat. “Tell me you’re going to be good.”
Your air was cutting off and you nodded rapidly. “I’ll be good.”
“Say I’m sorry, daddy. I’m sorry for making me have to search for answers. And finally break into your fucking house.” Rafe snarled and tightened his grip. You could feel him hardened above you.
He shoved his hand inside your underwear, grazing your soaking pussy. His two fingers rubbed your clit but with too light pressure. Your eyes rolled back as your stomach tightened.
“You’re so pathetic. Gonna cum and I haven’t even fucked you yet. You’re a fucking virgin, aren’t you? A little whore but you’ve never done this with anyone but your own tiny fingers.” Rafe lent down and hovered over your mouth that was parted.
He pulled his hand away and you whined. “No, please, I’m sorry daddy. I’m sorry for doing all this-“
“I’m sorry daddy,” Rafe mocked you, his fingers shoving inside your greedy entrance. “I’m sorry daddy that I’m a dripping whore and I need the Bible to get you to fuck me.” He started chuckling as you grew noisier. “Come on, you can do better than that.”
“I’m-“ He stopped and you almost screamed. “I’m so sorry, daddy. I’m a stupid dripping whore but I want you so bad. You can do whatever you want to me. I’ll take anything but please stop teasing-“
Rafe broke then, his hand removed from your neck and you sucked in air. His mouth slammed against yours as he ripped your underwear off, and fumbled with his belt. He slid down, kneeling on the floor as he spread your legs. Your glistening cunt made his eyes darken. “You’re so fucking wet for this.”
His tongue lapped at your clit, circling it around the bud before he licked the underside with pressure. You mewled and clawed the bed as he devoured you. Rafe’s tongue slipped inside you with ease as you clenched. You were so close it was painful. But he was relentless. Slowing when you were just about to reach your peak.
“Daddy, please make me cum.” You cried out, tears pricking your eyes. “I’m sorry, but please daddy.”
Rafe stopped and yanked off his pants and boxers. His heavy leaking dick was bigger than you thought as he wasted no time running it down your pussy. “This may hurt a little,” He warned before slamming in. “But you can fucking take it.”
Your nails clawed his back as he thrusted again. You moaned so loudly it surprised you but he met you in volume. “Fuck, daddy!” You said against his ear.
“Are you going to behave?” Rafe grunted as he crudely started massaging your clit. “Are you going to behave from now on?”
Your vision went white as your stomach tightened, “yes I promise,” You whispered before your pleasure exploded.
Rafe did too, his movements stalled as you felt him empty inside you, and your damp forehead rested against his.
“Maybe I fucked a baby in you, kitten.” Rafe sneered with a fucked out look. He was still inside you. “Looks like you corrupted me to your religion.” He smirked before pulling out.
“So…” You cleared your throat and looked at him with a small amount of vulnerability. “What does this mean? Is this it?”
Rafe inhaled and his fingers went to grip your jaw. His powerful face above you sent chills down your naked spine. “If you think you’re anything else but mine, then you’re a dumb little bunny. No one will ever touch you but me. Be with you but me. And besides,” He grinned wickedly. “Your dad already likes me.”
Tagging
@imyourdaninow @drewstarkeyslut @ifeeltoofuckingmuch @slvt4jamesmarch @reidsbtch @lesservillain @take-everything-you-can @emsgoodthinkin @imyourdaninow
#rafe cameron#Rafe Cameron smut#rafe cameron outer banks#rafe cameron imagine#Rafe Cameron fic#Rafe Cameron one shot#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron x female reader#rafe x reader#rafe obx#rafe outer banks#rafe fanfiction#rafe smut#rafe x you#rafe imagine#outerbanks rafe
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silly little promises.
SUMMARY: unspoken promises to stay away from your brother’s best friend might work for some, but not when kim seungmin is said man.
WC: 3.1k
CW: mentions of smoking weed, shotgunning, mentions of (fake)enemies to lovers?, slight pain kink?, use of “puppy, darling, beautiful, master”, fingering (f rec.), protected piv sex, (slight meanie?) hard!dom!seungmin, + artistic liberties regarding use of cursive because yes, and I think that’s all, folks!
PAIRING! smoker!seungmin x reader
[☆★🚭★☆]
Kisses in New Year meant nothing.
You wouldn’t have said this a month ago. Not in a chance, considering you and your loving boyfriend were stepping together into 2024.
Or. Well. You were going to.
Because when you turned around to face your boyfriend in midnight, he wasn’t there. You thought he was in his apartment, resting with a cold.
Oh, no.
He was a couple people behind you.
With someone else.
“Well, if it isn’t the queen of the party.” A low voice greeted cheekily.
You shoulders tensed up slowly.
“You shouldn’t smoke, you know.” You snickered, smiling politely at the silhouette that was leaning against the fence in the terrace.
That sentence you said was as empty as words could be.
Years after years, as someone who wasn’t really close to their family, the only moment you saw each of your close relatives was in events, like weddings and funerals. Or, in this case, New Years. Yet, for some reason, Kim Seungmin could —and would— always tag along.
Always next to your brother, Felix and him were attached to the hip. And, despite the fact that you had known him ever since you had memory, you needed that sentence, because it would secure a reaction in him.
He would roll his eyes. Like how he had done just now.
And usually, he would do that and go fetch your brother, dropping the ciggarette in the terrace of his shared appartment, stepping on it, staining the stone just slightly each time.
“Well, my grandmother got to live a hundred years.”
Huh? Your eyebrows shot up, almost innocently.
You fidgeted with your rings, hands gripping the fence in the terrace. As a seven-store building, you thought maybe you could focus on the small-looking mundane views.
Maybe like that, he’d go.
But he wasn’t leaving. He dared to get closer, in fact. And that shouldn’t be happening. You bit your lip. You needed to remember the one promise you had intended to keep.
Then your breath hitched, not only because his slender fingers brushed against your cheek, but because you remembered who you had promised that to. To that cheater ex-boyfriend of yours. And, cigarette in between his lips, pink and soft to the eye, Seungmin tucked a stray hair behind your ear, and you grasped the fence with force, your knuckles white.
“I can’t trust a man like that.” Your ex had said long ago, struggling to justify himself as to why you shouldn’t get too close to Seungmin. “He looks at you… differently.”
“You know how she did that? How she got to live up to a hundred?” The man in question asked in a low voice, tempting you to go forward, to break the unspoken promise of you not going close to each other.
“Smoking?” You muttered humourlessly, licking your lips, staring at his.
Seungmin snorted. “Oh, no, puppy.” Your entire body shivered. Blinking, slowly, not daring to believe what was happening before your eyes.
But it was real. And you knew it because Seungmin suddenly grasped your cheeks with one hand.
“Minding her own damn business.” He smirked, blowing the smoke on your face.
You started coughing, and hesitated as if to push him away and leave, slam the door close and celebrate New Year somewhere else instead of a party filled with friends of others.
“But I think,” he smiled slyly, bringing you back from your thoughts as he licked the small piercing in his lip. “I think you should try it.”
Your eyes widened at his words, your mind wandering away. Would the piercing be cold? How would it feel on his lips?
How would it feel against yours?
“S-smoking?” You let out in a huff, feeling heat creep up your body. He nodded.
“But…” doubt tinted his tone, his hand not leaving your chin, the grip uncomfortable at first but now relaxing against your skin.
Maybe it wouldn’t be so difficult to break that old promise.
Not when Kim Seungmin was related. And not when what you had promised meant not getting… acquainted with him.
After all, he had to make you regret it, right?
“Problem is… I only have this one.” He stated, waving the lit cigarette in his hand. “Unless… you don’t mind sharing.”
He had to make you regret that, for once, you had chosen that sad excuse of a man over him.
Your mind started to turn fuzzy, feeling Seungmin’s lean figure slowly cage you against the fence, his free hand sneakily heading to your waist, stroking down ever-so-slowly to your hip.
Biting your lip, you forced yourself to stop looking at his face, and threatened to burn marks on the necklace that creeped from between the top buttons of his black shirt.
Your cheeks heated up again.
“So, what’s it gonna be, huh?” He scoffed funnily, voice tinted with mockery. “Can a goody-two-shoes like you handle—“
But he stopped talking, because you took the cigarette from his hand and inhaled, siren eyes locked on his, who widened at the sight of you, eyebrows shot up, his features masking contentment.
He liked where this was going. He liked that you had broken the promise. He liked it when he heard that you had slapped your ex in front of everyone in the crowd. He liked how, right then and there, you grasped his face, your nails pressing crescent moons on his cheeks. Painful, but oh, so good.
And then, his breath tasted familiar. In the midst of the smoke you were passing to him, the mix of flavours crossing one mouth to another, exhaling and inhaling.
You backed off after, but he let out a soft grunt.
“Let me do that right.” Seungmin gulped messily, eyes red.
As if shotgunning hadn’t been enough, his right hand cradled your face, his left pushing himself tightly against you. His fingers traced the contour of your jaw, your breaths synchronized.
“Do it.” You panted, the effects of the certainly-not-tobacco substance reeling in your body, taking them in, making you light-headed. “Please, Seungmin, I—”
Your lips met in a fiery embrace, a collision of longing and intensity. It didn’t start with a tender exploration, but rather a fervent exchange of passion. Time seemed to stand still as both of you lost in the intoxicating rhythm of the kiss, all teeth and tongues.
“Just shut up.” He whispered against your lips. “God, just— fuck.”
Heated sighs escaped between kisses, and every touch sent shivers down your spine as Seungmin’s hands roamed freely over your body, gropping and touching to his heart’s content. His cold hands passed underneath your shirt and you whimpered.
“Ah! S-shit, Seungmin!” You shivered against him, trying to quiet your gasps.
He smirked, his other hand grabbing your cheeks and his thumb stroking your red, swollen and so fucking kissable lips.
“Wait, puppy.” He took the cigarette from your hand, took a draw and threw it to the ground, stepping on it lazily.
The smoke came out of his mouth slowly. “Now, I want you to listen closely.” He started. Your lack of response triggered a tug to your bra, and he slapped it back without hesitation, only a mean smile on his features. You whined, nuzziling your face on his neck, and he licked his lips, enjoying himself.
“Are you listening?” Seungmin snickered.
“Y-yes!” You muttered on his neck.
His cold hand trailed soothing patterns on your back, making you squirm on his grasp. You could feel yourself getting wetter and wetter by his antics.
“Yes, what?”
Slowly you stepped back to look at him, his eyes dark with lust and red due to the weed.
You smiled inocently. “Yes, sir?”
He blushed, but slowly shook his head.
“It’s master for you, puppy.” He kissed you again, unable to resist it for longer. “Let’s get the hell out of this place.”
You accept his outstreched hand without hesitation, a contact that made you crave whatever he was thinking at that moment.
Your heels were not at all helpful to take you upstairs, but Seungmin’s kind heart was there to smile at you as his hands took place in the curve of your waist to help you get up safetly. The silk of your dress felt soft under his slender fingers, your body warm to the touch. Every step you took made your hair swish in front of him and the strong scent of your shampoo invaded him completely, wanting to sink his face in and fall asleep.
It was the first time you were able to get a propper look of Seungmin’s room in his shared apartment with your brother. You had seen the door left ajar before, but never dared to cross, keeping your promise in mind.
“I don’t mind if you snoop, you know.” He chuckled next to your ear.
A sudden burst of attitude came right through you when you smirked, turning around to face him, your hands around his neck, playing with his hair.
Fuck that promise.
“I don’t need to snoop. I can always come back for that.”
Seungmin couldn’t help but smirk, moving and pushing you against the door, locking it behind you. He pressed his hands against it, on either side of your head, and leaned down slightly, towering you even with your heels on.
You couldn’t help but gulp, and Seungmin was tempted to press his mouth against your neck just to tease you after feeling your pulse hammering against his lips.
He was not going to kiss you.
Seungmin decided that, against his first intentions, watching you fight yourself was the hottest thing he had the pleasure to view that whole night, your cheeks in a deep shade of red, thighs squeezed together.
He didn’t really need to start anything. Only if you chose to, you would kiss him. And, even if you didn’t, you’d surely come back for more anyways.
Few people could resist Seungmin, and you were certainly not part of that group.
Your breathing deepened when he leaned forward, letting his mouth linger near the shell of your ear, his breath tickling your neck.
“You never hated me like you pretended, did you, darling?” He was mocking you, and he so knew it. “Keep in mind— I still can make you call me master. Your silly little promises won’t make me stay too far, puppy.”
He was trying to make you beg for it, for him, for anything, anything that Seungmin could do for you to make you feel better, as he kept making the heat that run through your body take control.
But Seungmin needed to get his revenge.
After all, he had been pinning over you for ages now. It was only fair you had to ask for it nicely, right?
“Is this a joke?”
The muttered question grazed past your lips, and it look like it surprised you just as much as it surprised him.
“I don’t joke about consent, dear.” Seungmin’s serious tone mades concentrating a much more difficult task. Not when his messy hair looked so good, and certainly not with those cute flushed cheeks of his.
For a lack of an answer —at this point it wasn’t about if it was better, because the man had almost rendered you speechless— you bit your lip, now soft doe eyes staring at him from below.
“You know what will happen.” His voice was soft and enticing, tempting you to go forward. “You just have to kiss me, hmm?” He snickered, his hum vibrating all through your body.
Seungmin smirked, pressing his body slightly closer, slotting his leg in between yours, setting his thigh just right.
Just a bit more.
“Say that you want it,” he whispered. “Master can fuck you so good once you do it, yeah? Don’t you want that, puppy?”
The sudden tug at the collar of his shirt and the force that you pulled him towards you with almost made Seungmin lose his mind, his thoughts soaked in a puddle of arousal, much like the one you were feeling that kept growing inside you.
Your lips crashed together, giving in to a craving that had been building up for what seemed likeforever. It wasn't just a kiss; it was like a dam breaking, releasing a flood of emotions that had been held back for too damn long.
The urgency was wild, like you couldn't get enough of each other. Seungmin’s mouth moved hungrily, as if trying to make up for all the times he'd missed out on this.
Your hands traveled to the rim of his shirt, but he whined, separating his lips off you. “N-no, wait.” He gasped, running out of air and not giving any fucks about it.
You had ruined him for good.
“Bed. Now.” He panted at you, your eyes as blown out as his. “You’re gonna be the death of me, puppy.”
Seungmin licked the piercing on his lip, as he took off his shirt and sat on the edge of the bed, manspreading. His breath hitched and he buckled his hips unconciously when you sat on his lap, rolling your hips teasingly.
He tutted at you. With a mean smile, he grabbed you by your waist and softly pushed you against the soft fabric of his bed covers. Standing on his knees, he unbuckled his belt, and you happily oogled at his toned body. He wasn’t shredded, but there was no need when all you wanted to do was mark him up in kisses regardless.
You didn’t realize he had taken all his clothes off, left with his boxer briefs, only noticed it after he let his body slot in between your legs, his forearms at the sides of your face so his weight wouldn’t crush you completely.
“Seungmin…”
He chuckled, your hands touring up his lean chest, reaching the nape of his neck.
“So demanding.” His characteristic teasing tone was back, but completely different at the same time. “Say, if I snuck my hand under that beautiful dress of yours,” he mentioned temptingly, enticingly grinding his hips against yours, “how wet would I find you, puppy?”
So fucking wet. So much, in fact, that you didn’t dare to say. Disgustingly so. You let out a trembling sigh, yearning for the man before you to inch even closer, to eat the space between both of you and make it dissapear.
In a swift motion, Seungmin took your dress off and discarded it, not bothering if it would be easy to find later on. In fact, he thought as his stare ate you alive, that he wouldn’t mind if you never found it again.
He rocked against your centre, just once, ripping a pained whimper out of you.
“Tell master what you want, puppy.” His jaw hardened, reeling in the bubbling emotions that ran through him. “Tell me what’s okay for me to do.”
Seungmin’s thumb grazed the skin of your breast, eliciting a deep moan out of you.
“That’s it, puppy. So good— so good for me.” He gulped, filled with lust and craving.
He took your nipple between his slender fingers and pulled softly.
You let out an unrestrained whimper. Loud. Almost obnouxiously so, and quickly brought your hand over your mouth, cheeks reddening in embarrassment and arousal. Seungmin chuckled softly, leaning down to press a kiss to your blushing cheek.
“Keep making those pretty sounds for me. Let everyone hear. Let them hear how good your master makes you feel.”
Seungmin’s hold on your hip tightened, making you aware of his hand there, his other hand continuing further down a similar path, finally reaching your wet folds, pressing just for an instant and then gliding down slowly.
Your lips parted as a moan came out. You couldn’t remember feeling so turned on by someone— ever.
He let out a pleased grunt, his hand leaving your core as his eyes locked with yours just so you’d see how he licked your arousal from his fingers, humming with a smirk.
“All of this for me?” He mocked in a deep voice, much deeper than any instance you had ever heard him.
Unable to form any coherent thoughts in your head aside from the chant that numbed your head—Seungmin, more, Seungmin, mine, Seungmin, master,— he didn’t lose anymore time, his fingers sliding inside of you in a swift motion, making you moan at the blissful sensation of finally being somewhat full, also making you realize that only his fingers wouldn’t be enough for the night.
“Hear that, puppy? Those sticky sweet sounds… that’s all you.” Seungmin kept thrusting inside, adding a second finger and bringing a warm sensation that started unravelling itself, as if it was going to crack you wide open. “All drenched for me, fuck.”
After what could’ve been a few minutes, only hearing your own moans and whines, backed my Seungmin’s pleased pants and the sound of your arousal as he scissored you open, he took his hand away from you.
“Open up.” It wasn’t a question, and it made you whine against his fingers when he shoved them in your mouth, forcing you to taste yourself. “So fucking delicious, my little puppy.”
So primal, so basic, so hot.
He slid down his underwear just enough so his length sprang free.
“Would love to feel those lips of yours around my cock, but we’ll leave that for the next time.”
He planted a lingering kiss on your lips and a second one on your forehead as he fetched a condom and skillfully rolled it down his length.
He stared at you, going back to his place between your thighs.
“Words, puppy.” He demanded.
You almost choked in your spit.
“F-fuck, S-seungmin, I—“ you moaned as he went crazy, claming your breasts, neck, collarbone, marking you with hard-to-cover-up hickeys. You were his, and it was now as real as it could get, his fingers and tongue outlining your body, memorizing every nook and cranny.
He panted. “Don’t stop talking.”
“S-shit. Yes. Yes, fuck, please. S-seungmin.” You bit your lip, squirming in your place. “I-inside.”
He snickered against your skin.
“Say that like you mean it.”
His hips rocked against your core, pushing his length between your legs, the tip sliding down with every sway of his body until reaching my entrance.
“M-master.” You could’ve sworn you would cry. “Please.”
With a kiss below your ear, Seungmin finally pressed into you, slowly, and it made you moan loudly, the feeling of his cock sliding inside of you in a deep thrust, filling you completely.
“We’re in for a long night, puppy.” Seungmin whined, almost moaning, and it was delicious. “F-fuck…”
He kissed you fiercily, his lips making your body burn underneath him.
“Now, keep moaning how good your master makes you feel.”
~Kats, who wanted to post this before going crazy with overdue homework and future exams! (HELP!)
aside from my human issues, lol, i was thinkinggg
should I open a taglist or smth? js sayin lololol
Almost forgot! Tagging @dumplingsjinson bc their (outstanding, gorgeous) prompts helped me out, so quick, go check them out! hehe<3
#cheeky me 🤭🤭🤭#im so naughty 🤪🤪🤪#kim seungmin x reader#kim seungmin smut#stray kids#stray kids scenarios#stray kids x reader#skz scenarios#kim seungmin#kim seungmin x you#stray kids imagines#seungmin smut#skz hard hours#skz hard thoughts#hard thoughts#seungmin skz#kim seungmin headcanons#seungmin x reader#kpop smut#kim seungmin x y/n#stray kids kim seungmin#stray kids smut
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