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wardenparker · 2 years

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Close Encounters of the Toothy Kind

Max Phillips x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 9.2k Warnings: *Reader has a nickname right up front.* Evan being his whiny self. Alcohol consumption but no one’s judgement is impaired. Light power dynamics, biting (blood is drawn), oral sex (female receiving), hair pulling, dirty talk, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, monster fucking, rough sex, vampire kink/fetish. Summary: The company Halloween party is way more fun than you ever expected - even if your coworker and roommate Evan doesn’t think so. Notes: Happy Spooktober everyone! This little fangbang has been brewing in our minds for months now and it turned out even better than I ever dreamed! Smothered in pop culture references and plenty of cheeky fun. 🎃🧡🧛‍♀️

Ever since Max Phillips was in high school, he knew how to throw a party. It helped get him laid both there and later on in college. Even throughout getting his MBA and graduating, his attention to detail for having a good time led to some of the most memorable parties on campus. It was something he considered a little extra that he had to offer a company beyond the normal impressive résumé. Because in order to throw a great party, you had to know what people wanted. You had to read their wants through the small conversations and the body language of the person.

It was also useful in closing deals and impressing clients. Which was why he had pulled out all the stops tonight in the annual Halloween party. It wasn't just a sad, alcohol-free punch and those horrid cookies that Zarabeth makes. This is impressive. The smoke machines and black lights contrasted the disco balls that twirl overhead giving the event a truly spooky vibe.

"You'll see, Cat." Evan looks around nervously, his fingers digging into the sensitive skin under your elbow as he propels the two of you forward into the "East Ballroom" swallowing as he takes in the decorations. "I'm not crazy. Max is a vampire."

“Ev, it’s okay to just not like the guy.” Evan is an okay roommate. He really is. He’s clean and doesn’t cook horrible food, and he’s even handy with a toolkit when things need a little TLC. But this crusade he’s been on against your boss is just insane. Pulling at your tight Camp Crystal Lake t-shirt and smoothing your short shorts, you’ll be the first to admit that you took the easy way out with your costume this year, but Friday the 13th camp counselor was just too good to pass up. The Halloween store in town even had knee socks with Jason’s hockey mask on them to go with your Keds sneakers. “Let’s just have a couple of drinks and hang out. Maybe not get weird over your obsessive hatred of our boss?”

"I'm telling you he's a vampire!" Evan hisses, the cords in his neck bulging and he doesn't understand why you don't believe him. He looks around and groans, rolling his eyes and pointing. "He's even mocking it. Look at him." Max smirks as he watches you and Evan at the entrance of the ball room. Evan looked panicked and pale. He wonders if the poor schmuck is still trying to convince everyone that he's a vampire. It is so much fun to watch him freak out like the obsessive little turd that he is and push everyone away with his theories. Amanda had finally dumped him for good and started dating Andrew, which was a much better prospect for her in Max's opinion. He takes his eye off you and checks the buffet table again. The caterer that he had chosen had promised him that the canapés would all be haunted and ghoulish and so far they hadn't disappointed.

“Oh hell yeah, Lost Boys!” You grin, seeing the costume that Max has expertly pieced together. Max Phillips might be a frat boy and occasional asshat, but he has an attention for detail that has to be admired. And frankly? He’s ridiculously hot. A fact only enhanced by leather and eyeliner, in your opinion. Sure he’s a little obnoxious, so you just keep the fact that you have a little – okay, big – thing for him on the quiet side. Especially since your roommate despises him. “Evan,” you look at your roommate now, decked out in his Van Helsing costume like he’s in some kind of righteous crusade. “I am begging you to just let tonight be about fun and not this hyper focus.”

Evan rolls his eyes and gives you a disappointed look. "You're going to believe me." He promises you. "By the end of tonight, you will know the truth - Max Phillips is a vampire."

"I sure am." Max agrees easily, appearing at your side and wrapping his arm around your shoulders. "David from Lost Boys." He clarifies. "Glad you can make it Camp Crystal Lake Counselor." He doesn't waste the opportunity to look at your legs, you've got them on display after all and you aren't on company property.

"Max." Evan greets him through clenched teeth, furious that he's touching you.

“Evan made me a name tag,” you tell Max with a grin, pointing to the sticky Hi! My Name Is badge on your shirt that features your office nickname - Cat - and a little cartoon drawing of black cat beside it. “Nice party, Max.” You may keep your attraction under wraps, but that doesn’t mean you can’t just be a generally nice person.

“Thanks Kitty Cat.” Max sends you a small wink and looks around. “We’ve got a couple of our clients and potential clients here so I could get away with splurging. Plus, I love Halloween.” He smirks over at Evan. “All the things that go bump in the night come out.”

“Does that mean there’s good booze?” You ask, one eyebrow ticking up at Max curiously. Splurging on clients might mean there’s actually something tasty. “I heard a rumor about sangria or punch or something, but that might have been Elaine’s wishful thinking.”

“Ohhhh the Bloody Sangria is my own recipe.” He tells you with a grin. “There’s also Witches Brew, Poisoned Apples and Demon Juice.” He points to the bar where premixed cocktails are being poured up into glasses where the base is a skeleton’s hand.

“Sangria for sure.” That stupid exaggerated grin on Max’s face shouldn’t be charming, but he’s got vampire fang caps on his teeth and alright, maybe you had a little thing for Kiefer Sutherland as a teenager that the Lost Boys costume is playing into. To Evan you throw a pout, silently asking him to play nice before heading to the bar with Max.

“Make sure you get some appetizers too.” Max hums knowingly. “Those drinks sneak up on you and we don’t want you buzzed too quickly.” He catches the eye of a prospective client and pats your shoulder. “I’ll catch up with you later, enjoy yourself Kitty Cat.”

“Come on, Ev.” You reach for his hand but resist when he tries tangling your fingers together, tired of repeating that you are not interested in him romantically. He’s a good roommate and a decent friend, but as a boyfriend? Not your type at all. “Drink with me, eat with me. It’ll be fun.”

“I’m not touching anything Max could have corrupted.” Evan huffs, annoyed that you are so flirty with him. You need to just trust him.

“He’s not going to poison our clients.” Rolling your eyes at him is still playful, because you’ve definitely always thought of Evan as more of a brother than anything else, and you nod toward the bar. “I bet they have beer in bottles that Max can’t have tainted with his spooky vampire vibes.”

Evan blows out a sigh and dutifully follows you like a lost puppy, wondering how he can possibly convince you about Max. “Hey man.” Tim smirks and lifts the glass of alcohol up. “You came.”

“I had to drag him out of the apartment,” you tease, giving Tim a hug before slipping past him to the bar for a glass of sangria.

“Would you like an extra shot of Vampire’s blood in your sangria?” The bartender asks with a smile. “It’s a floater of blackberry moonshine.”

“Why the hell not. Go big or go home, right?” You laugh, cringing at the cliched phrase before you shrug your shoulders. “And a Bud Light.” The least you can do is grab Evan’s first beer for him, since you did drag him out tonight. Being convinced that some socialization that didn’t happen under neon lights with phone headsets attached to your heads would be good for him might not have been correct.

Evan looks around the room in jealousy, begrudgingly impressed with the party. Hating how this man took his job and was actually doing a bang-up job. He takes the beer from you and eyes it for a moment before he hears Max’s laugh across the room. “Fuck it.” He groans and puts the bottle to his lips.

“Atta boy,” Tim laughs before strolling away when he spies someone he wants to say hi to across the large room.

“Eat, drink, and be merry,” you agree with a grin. You just want tonight to be fun. Maybe get Evan talking to the new girl from Legal that he said was cute a couple of days ago. Anything to get his mind away from the vampire thing.

Max keeps an eye on you as he makes his way around the room. Partly because it drives Evan insane. He might have made a couple of veiled threats to change you next. But mostly it was because he was very intrigued by the way your tits look up under that t-shirt. He had plenty of fantasies about his counselors when he was younger and his grandma made him go to the sleep away vacation Bible camps in the summer.

******

The deejay they hired for tonight is doing an excellent job of keeping the energy up, and you walk past the table just in time to hear Deliah from HR begging him to play Thriller again, making you laugh as you hit the bar. This sangria is addictive and you lean back against the sturdy wood to look around the room while the bartender pours you glass number three. Evan has finally started talking to the girl from Legal and from where you are it looks like she might even be interested in him so you send up a little positive energy in his direction and sigh. Maybe now you can actually relax and find someone to dance with - a thought which feels slightly bitchy considering you know Evan would dance with you if you asked. But you’d like to dance with someone you’re attracted to, which seriously narrows the field around here.

Max chuckles to himself when he sees you going back for another drink. He slides up behind you, leaning over your shoulder to murmur in your ear. “Enjoying yourself, Kitty Cat?”

“Max!” You didn’t see him approach and definitely would have done a spit take if you had had a sip of drink in your mouth when he spoke. “Uh— yeah, actually. Your sangria’s really good.”

“I’m glad you enjoy it.” He purrs with a delighted smile. “I like the body of it.” He waggles his brows. “And the way that it sneaks up on you.”

“The body of the bloody sangria?” It’s dumb, and you probably wouldn’t laugh at it if you weren’t two drinks in and finding the 80s vamp look on him a little extra hot. “Har har.”

Max winks at you. “Planning on being the first victim of the night?” He asks, leaning in. “Or are you going to be the counselor that survives?”

“Oh, come on.” Leaning back against the bar, you toss him the same smirk you would give anybody in this situation. “Nobody wants to die first. I’m totally Final Girl material. Nancy Thompson, Laurie Strode, and me.”

“You sure?” He leans in and flicks your name badge. “Kitty Cat survives?” He hums, smirking at you.

“For sure.” The authoritative nod you give him when the bartender sets your drink down beside your elbow comes with a grin. “I’m not afraid of some big bad monster.”

“Really?” He flashes his fangs at you playfully. Everyone thinks they are fake but why would he do fake fangs when he has the real thing. “Not even a skipping beat of your heart?”

“Not even.” It’s a dirty lie because you’re a damn scaredy cat, but at the same time you do love the adrenaline rush of a scary movie. The fake fangs are more of a turn on than anything else, which is probably the real reason your blood is currently pumping.

“I think you’re lying.” He coos, leaning in closer and brushing his nose against your pulse. The smell of your blood is intoxicating, and he groans quietly.

“Rude.” You laugh, picking up your drink and nudging him with your elbow. Maybe it’s a little more flirtatious than you would ever be regularly, but this is outside of work hours, outside of the office, and it’s a party.

“Just honest, Kitty cat.” He chuckles, watching you take another sip of your drink.

“I don’t know why I let you call me that.” Yes you do. You absolutely know why. It’s because he’s hot as fuck. It had taken almost a year to accept being called Cat at work and then Max just rolled in and added kitty to it and you just let it slide. “Maybe I instinctively knew you’d have a killer sangria recipe that I’d want to steal.”

“Better than what I was going to call you when I first met you.” He confides with a cocky grin.

“Oh god.” You choke on a laugh before taking a sip of your drink. “Do I want to know?”

He snickers to himself and shuffles closer. Leaning in to whisper in your ear. “Pussy…Cat.” He purrs, making sure to emphasize the first word.

That…is not what you expected, and you definitely feel a very visceral reaction to Max’s breath on your neck. You can practically feel your panties drench at the implication that he might be interested in you, too. But that’s…that’s a stretch, right? It has to be. Max flirts with all the women in the office.

“Cat got your tongue, sweetheart?” He hums, wondering if he’s misread the subtle signals you’ve sent him.

“A little.” You have to admit that, as silly as it makes you feel when you tilt your head to look at him. “Surprised, I guess?”

“Why would you be surprised?” He lifts his brows, shocked that you didn’t know that you are a gorgeous woman. “Every man in this room would take you home if they could.”

“Maybe.” Shrugging, you take another sip of your drink before turning to face him fully. Whether it’s the booze or the atmosphere or the light-switch flick of a mood change, you’re feeling bold. “But I’m not interested in them.”

“And who are you interested in?” He asks, intrigued by who would be your taste. Surely not Evan, he’s heard him moan about you turning him down to Tim too often in the break room.

“Seriously?” It’s probably a good thing that he has to ask, it means you haven’t been too obvious at work. Although you kind of thought you were being pretty obvious right now. “I mean, don’t fire me over it, but…you…”

“Hmmmmm.” Max flashes you a wicked, fanged-filled grin. “That’s not something I would ever fire you over Pussy Cat.”

“That nickname is gonna stick now, isn’t it?” You can feel the heat in your cheeks, nerves and embarrassment rising right along with arousal. He’s looking at you half like you’re a fucking meal and half like something else that you can’t quite pinpoint but you’re fairly certain you’re going to enjoy.

“Yes it is.” He chuckles again. “But only when we’re alone.”

“We’re never alone.” More than anything it’s just pointing out a fact. Aside from the rare occasion that he has called you into his office, The two of you have never actually been alone. Maybe once you were the only two people in the break room at the same time, but that was in passing and the door was open. It wasn’t exactly private.

“Then maybe we should be alone.” Max offers with a smirk. He can smell your interest, but he wants this to be completely your choice.

“Seriously?” You ask again, still a little incredulous that he could be interested. “I mean…I didn’t think…” But he’s looking at you like that and you swallow the lump in your throat so hard that it bottoms out all the way down in your pussy. “I mean, yeah. That sounds like fun.”

“Yeah?” He bites his lip with his fangs exposed. “You want to be alone?” He waits for you to nod and he smirks. “How about now?”

“Eager.” But it makes you flush with your own fervent desire, wondering if he means just finding a dark corner of the party, leaving together, or if his mind has jumped straight to hooking up. It occurs to you, as you smirk and pick up your drink to down it quickly (no sense in wasting, obviously) that you don’t care. “Fuck it. Yeah. What do you have in mind?” Evan is going to be so fucking pissed but you just can’t bring yourself to care at the moment.

He chuckles, surprised that you’ve said yes, but also very happy that you have. “I think the innocent camp counselor should go into the bathroom to be ravished by the dangerous vampire.” He hums as he lifts a brow.

Straight to hooking up, you acknowledge with a smirk. It doesn’t really surprise you. Max isn’t exactly known as a relationship guy around the office. Either way, you don’t mind making him a notch on your proverbial bedpost tonight. “You go for the innocent thing, huh?” It makes your smirk deepen just that much more. “Noted,” you murmur in his ear before taking the strut all the way out of your step and hightailing it out of the hotel ballroom toward the unisex bathroom down the hall.

Max watches you walk away for a long moment, admiring the view. “Turned you down, huh?” Evan’s pithy little comment makes his smirk reappear as he turns towards the other man.

“Guess so.” He chirps, unwilling to let Evan cause a scene and prevent his little rendezvous with you. Some sacrifices must be made and right now, wiping the smug, satisfied look off Evan’s face is on the chopping block.

“She’ll never date you. Or fuck you.” He tells Max, his eyes darting around but the little fucker is brave around a crowd in the ballroom - confident Max won’t cause a scene. “So you should just leave her alone.”

“Same could be said for you, slugger.” Max pops back with a wink. “After all, if I lived in the same apartment with that little Kitty Cat, I’m sure I would have wooed her by now.” He chuckles and gives Evan a sympathetic look. “Guess you just aren’t what she’s looking for…” Max lets Evan stew for a moment and right when the other man opens his mouth, he interrupts him. “Whelp! I better go take a piss, all the Bloody cocktails have gotten to me.” He smirks. “Try the special sangria I have behind the bar.” He confides. “They have it just for me, but tell them Max said it was okay.” He turns around and whistles as he walks towards the bathrooms, knowing Evan is fuming.

It takes just long enough before you hear footsteps outside the bathroom door for you to start doubting yourself. Wondering if you just made a completely dumbass mistake that’s going to make life hell at work from now on, or if Max really did use the specific word ravishing or a million other little paranoid concerns. You’re in the process of telling yourself to get a goddamn grip when the bathroom door clicks open.

Max raises a brow at you, seeing the doubt and second guessing on your face. “Change your mind, Pussy Cat?” He asks as he steps inside and closes the door. If you don’t want to do this, it wouldn’t be nice to have the rumor mill spin if someone looked in and saw the two of you. “I got caught up by Evan trying to warn me away from you.”

“Thought you might have changed yours,” you admit, but the news that it was Evan who caused the delay makes you relax again instantly. “Ev’s just…protective.”

He snorts and sends you a knowing look. “Evan wants to be in your bed.” He counters. “He’s like the annoying little puppy that chews on your shoelaces and tries - and fails - to hump your leg.”

“To be fair, he’s never actually tried to hump my leg.” The comparison makes you laugh though, and you shake your head. “He knows I’m not interested in him.”

“He knows…but he doesn’t know.” Max smirks as he flips the lock and takes a step towards you. “He might get the hint tonight.”

“Oh yeah?” It’s not like you had been planning on broadcasting this little interlude around the office, so the idea of news of it getting back to Evan hadn’t even been on your mind.

“Only if you wanted.” He chuckles, reaching out and stroking your arm, his eyes on yours. “He’ll know when you scream my name.”

The corners of your lips tick up in a smirk as you step into him, feeling your heart speed up and your pussy clench at that kind of promise. “I guess you better make sure I scream loud enough, then.”

Max’s eyes flash and his smirk grows wider. “Only thing I like more than making a sale is a challenge, Pussy Cat.” He growls, stalking towards you like a predator cornering his prey.

It would probably come across as way too dramatic if you weren’t honestly so goddamn turned on, but as it is? You’re in exactly the right frame of mind to find that broad frame and cocky ass smirk enticing as hell. “Then what are you waiting for?”

“Permission.” Quicker than he probably should have, but not enough to be too obvious, Max pins you against the row of industrial yet aesthetically pleasing sinks and hand soap units. Your back is to the mirror, and he leers with his nose pressed right against yours.

Your sharp gasp and wide eyes definitely lend themselves toward that whole innocent thing he supposedly likes, and the way he has your back bowed so that your tits are pushed against his chest is only adding to the heaving effect. "Max..."

"Yessssss, Pussy Cat?" He doesn't kiss you, not yet. He likes the teasing and the way that your breath catches in your throat. It makes the veins flood with blood and it smells so sweet as your body heats up even more than normal.

"Shit..." The realization makes you roll your eyes even as you're nearly panting in anticipation. "Of course you're a tease."

He tsks in disappointment at your seemingly bemoaning of his traits. "You don't think it enhances...." his 'fake' fangs graze your throat slowly before he retracts them and places the most delicate kiss on your galloping pulse, "anticipation?"

The way you almost whimper is a complete giveaway that it definitely is an enhancement, and you shiver a little. Being caged between his arms against the counter makes you feel caught in a delicious sort of way. "M-maybe."

"Hmmmmm." Max is already hard, pressing against your hip through your camp counselor shorts and one hand moves from the cold counter to grab your side. "Don't worry, Pussy Cat." He follows up the small kiss with a slow drag of his tongue up the line of your neck. "I won't bite hard...unless you want me to."

Evan’s ridiculous vampire claim rings in your ears again, completely unwanted, and you smirk as you tip your head to one side to give him all the access to your neck as he could possibly want. “It’s been a while since I’ve been properly manhandled,” you murmur, tugging on his earlobe with your teeth as his head hangs right beside yours. “Sounds like fun.”

Max hisses, cock jumping when your teeth nip his skin. "Fuck." He huffs, trying to decide if he wants a quickie, or if he just wants to destroy you. Your giggle makes up his mind for him, pulling away and dropping down to his knees to unbutton those ridiculously tiny shorts you are wearing. The prospect of devouring your cunt while you have knee highs and sneakers on is appealing.

"Shit." Max Phillips on his knees is not a sight you ever thought you'd see - both because you didn't ever think you'd actually be in this position with him and a little bit because you thought he might be one of those guys who was prissy about the smell or taste of pussy as an excuse to never give oral - but it's fucking glorious. It takes all of thirty seconds for your cutoffs to be tossed across the damn room, and Max's eyes are eye level with the soaked through crotch of your white cotton panties.

"Virginal." He hums, smirking up at you before he reaches out and rubs the damp fabric. "Even though I know you aren't, it makes you look even more like a teenage counselor that might survive the night."

Looking down at him with the most innocent expression you can muster, you can see just how wide his pupils have grown since getting the first bit of your clothing off. "Of course I'm innocent. I don't know why you would possibly think otherwise." You intone, wondering if he's into roleplay enough to want the whole act.

He chuckles, hooking a finger in the band of your panties so he can start dragging them down. "Because good virginal girls don’t let sinful vampires eat their pussy in the bathroom." He teases, leaning in and blowing on your heated pussy lips and giving you a fang-filled smile.

This time your whimper is accompanied by the eager way you open up for him, totally willing to spread your legs for him before he's even kissed you. It's not like you're expecting a lasting and deep connection out of fucking your boss in the bathroom at the company party. You're horny, not delusional.

Your ass is perched against the counter so Max wastes no time in shoving his shoulders under your legs, bringing your thighs to his shoulders and he winks at you, right before his mouth envelopes your cunt in a large bite, his fangs retracting again so he doesn't puncture your lips.

They definitely heard you moaning in the hallway, but you couldn't care less as you brace yourself with one hand on the counter and sink the fingers of your other hand into his thick, artfully messy hair. The heat of his mouth and determination of his tongue as he licks a long, flat stripe up the length of your sex is enough to have you tossing your head back and shutting your eyes in pleasure. Or it would be, if you didn't want to watch his every movement so desperately.

There is an art to pussy eating. He had tried to tell Evan that when the prick was in college with him, but he had been too busy thinking Max was an asshole. It might have been one of the reasons his roommate's girlfriend had jumped into his bed when Evan was away for a long weekend. She had obviously listened to the tips he had tried to impart. Enough to be curious, at least. His tongue twists around your clit and he flicks it playfully before his tongue slides down again, curious to taste you right from the honeyed little well between your thighs. Your fingers curl tightly, nails digging into his scalp instinctively before soothing the bite away. Apparently you never noticed Max having an overly long tongue, but he is curled into the absolute depths of you in a way that has you rolling your hips forward and pushing down as if he isn't already completely buried in your cunt.

Max groans into your folds, loving how you don't mind being a little more forceful. His cock twitches and he holds your legs wide so he can curl his tongue deeper, licking into you with fevered eagerness. He knows what the fuck he's doing, you'll give him that. Any idea that you had about him being selfish in bed is being completely washed away by the deep growling sounds floating up to you from his throat and the way those vibrations roll through your body to have you whining and writhing and almost ready to burst in no time.

His eyes fixate on you. Responding to the micro expressions as he works your cunt with his tongue. If you’re going to fuck him; you’re damn well going to have nothing but good things to say about him. His fingers dig into the tender flesh of your thighs and he huffs, not needing to breathe, but you would expect him to make some noise.

“Holy shit, Max—” Every time you get a gulp of air he pushes it out again, cutting off your moan of his name and twisting it into a harsh gasp with a dexterous flick of his tongue that swirls around your clit like a lollipop. “S—so— good! Fuck.”

He chuckles into you, waiting until you look down at him again before he sends you a small wink and sucks your clit into his mouth, ripping your orgasm out of you.

You’ve never outright just screamed while cumming before, but this one comes tearing out of you like an igniting fire that leaves you shaking and cursing and grasping at any bit of him you can get your hands on so that you don’t just collapse backward into one of the sinks behind you. “Oh my fucking god, Max.” You’re practically dizzy from the force of it, which just makes you giggle in filthy glee when you can breathe again.

He is smug as he kisses your clit one last time before he leans back and looks up at you. “Did I pass muster, counselor?” He teases.

“With the first test.” You nod eagerly, getting air back in your lungs as you reach to drag him up for a kiss. You haven’t gotten to yet and now that he’s had his mouth on you, you’re dying to indulge.

Max goes willingly, fusing his mouth to yours and sliding his hands up under your shirt. Wanting to get his hands on your tits for a long time, he moans as he cups them over your bra and slides his tongue into your mouth at the same time.

Moaning into the kiss is a natural instinct. His large hands envelope your overheated skin easily, somehow easing the heat of arousal at the same time he intensifies it. It’s you who tears your shirt away, ready to just throw every stitch aside and thoroughly fucking enjoy yourself.

He pulls away from you to admire the view as he unhooks your bra and tosses it away. "Fucking in your shoes, I'm digging it." He teases, pinching your nipples and ducking down to pull one into his mouth.

“Feels—” His talented mouth cuts you off and you almost squeal, letting it dissolve into a sinful moan. “Dirtier.” You finish your thought with one hand cradling his head to your tits encouragingly and the other fisting his shirt blindly to follow the trail of his torso down to the pronounced bulge in his pants.

"You are dirty." He groans, pulling off your tit with a pop and then biting it playfully before he nips the other. "Gonna fuck you like the dirty fucking girl you are right here."

“It’s a good thing you got my pussy nice and wet, then.” With one hand wrapped around the thick length protruding from his pants, your other starts working open his belt. “It’ll be nice and easy to slide that big cock in right away.”

He smirks and stands straight while you pull open his pants and groans when his cock is your hot hands. "Fuck." He hisses, twitching when your thumb presses against the tip. "I'm gonna be balls deep and die happy." He jokes.

"You mean you're not a real undead bad boy?" Putting on a pout of faux disappointment keeps you from laughing, knowing that he knows all about Evan's Max is a vampire crusade. The very last thing you're about to do when you have his thick length throbbing in your hand is laugh. "Darn."

He doesn't even answer you, just thrusts into your grip. "Line me up, Pussy Cat." He hums. "I'm gonna make you cum like this then I'm going to turn you over so I can watch your ass bounce."

"Promises, promises," you tease, not that you have any doubt he can do it. He's not even out of breath while you're a panting and whimpering mess. You don't hesitate to do as he tells you, though, leaning back a little to let your legs fall open wide so that you can position the blunt head of his cock at the entrance of your dripping pussy.

"Fuck, look at that pretty little pussy cat." He smirks and watches you while he breeches your entrance and starts filling you steadily, inch by inch.

He feels thicker splitting you open than he did in your hand, and your head drops back when you let out a deep groan of pleasure. Max doesn’t stop until he’s fully bottomed out inside you and you don’t want him to - making lascivious noises of approval with every inch until his hips are flush against yours and then you’re diving back in for more kisses. Wrapping your arms around his neck keeps him close but you grind your hips down against his and whimper happily. “Fuck me, baby. Come on. Need you.”

Max snarls slightly, his grip turning bruising for a split second before he relaxes and grins at you. "I can do that, sweetheart." He growls. "Guaranteed." Pulling his hips back, he snaps them forward harshly.

“Yes!” The force of the thrust pushes you back on the counter and you keep your arms around Max, sinking your teeth playfully into his neck for a moment because he seemed to have liked you using your teeth earlier. “Just like that.”

"Fuck." His dick twitches deep inside you and his own fangs spring out of his gums. He doesn't bite you though. Not wanting to change you right now, so he just keeps his head over your shoulder so you don't see his slightly feral expression. His hips rock faster after you bite him, ready to give you what you want.

It’s fierce and needy after that. Rough in all the right ways, like you hadn’t been the only one secretly pining in the office ever since Max joined the company earlier in the year. Or, if not pining, you definitely weren’t the only one with filthy thoughts about the other. Every once in a while his grip tightens to near bruising and you moan every time, loving the harshness of a little pain with your pleasure. You’ve always been that way and know for a fact that Evan is gentler than a basket of fluffy kittens, which is one of the reasons you just never had any interest in your roommate. But this? This is your kind of fucking - dirty and delicious.

Groans pour out of his mouth, not because he's winded or anything human, but because you are fucking perfect. Taking his pace, his eagerness and wanting more. He can feel the way that you get even wetter when he forgets not to crush you for a second. Loses control slightly. It's intoxicating and your blood – fuck, it's like ambrosia right under the skin.

There’s no chance that people haven’t figured out what’s going on in here - from the locked door to your combined sounds to the harsh slap of skin on damp skin. Max’s cock is battering your pussy in the very best way and you hope like hell that you’ll be as sore as you think you will tomorrow. The idea of carrying that with you for a few days sounds perfect, especially if this is only going to be a one-time thing. Just a perfect little capsule of a memory of that one time you got railed in a hotel bathroom. Even that thought makes you gasp out in pleasure, legs tightening around his waist as you can feel the familiar twist of orgasm in your belly building up again.

“You gonna cum?” Max asks, smirking at you as he keeps drilling into you over and over again. He knows you are close, that fluttering little pussy of yours is about to explode and soak him. “Yeah, you are.” He huffs smugly. “Do it, Pussy Cat.”

You barely have it in you to be sassy in the moment, just rambling whatever pops into your head, and your fingers are digging into his leather covered shoulders with a tight pressure that doesn’t seem to phase him in the least. You turn your head to drag your teeth along the juncture of his long neck to egg him on. “So good,” you whine breathlessly, sucking hot marks into his skin with enthusiasm. “So fucking good, Max — fuck I’m gonna cum so hard.”

Max feels his face start to change, growling harshly and planting his face in your neck while he ramps up his pace to just beyond what is humanly possible. Wanting to feel it and hear you scream. “Do it.”

It takes mere seconds more, and you’re clinging to him when you feel the rush of overheated blood become an equally overheated flood from your cunt that drenches his cock with an unbelievable amount of cum. It’s so intense that your whole body locks up, turning your scream of his name into a strangled wail as you fall apart.

Hissing, Max doesn’t fuck you through it, instead he’s pulling out of you and manhandling you like a rag doll. Flipping you over and letting you fall forward while he pulls your cheeks apart and sinks back into your cunt with a victorious hum when your walls are still pulsing.

“Goddamn—fuuuck Max!” The strangled sob is punctuated by his name when he spears his cock back into you completely, burying his length to the hilt and extending the end of your orgasm so that your body shakes again in ecstasy as you try to grasp at anything on the counter so you don’t end up face down in a sink. You had no idea he was this strong - making you feel like a rag doll in his arm as he finds his rhythm again.

Now he’s grinning, watching his cock spear into you and make your ass bounce. His hands grip your hips as he rails into you. “Do it again.” He growls, wanting to feel you cum again. It’s a point of pride and he’s loving how you take it.

You’re about to gasp out a joke about how you’re gonna need a little more time before you can cum again when you lift your head to find his eyes in the mirror — and can’t find his face at all. The reflection of his clothing is clear as day: duster and shirt and torn open pants Moving behind you in rhythm with the merciless way he’s fucking you and fingerless gloves gripping tight to your hips as you find your own reflection unblemished in the large bathroom mirror. But Max? Max is as transparent as a summer breeze, only affecting the things he touches as you see his grip tighten on your flesh by the way the indents there deepen. You can feel it, and you can see the result, but you can’t see him.

“Holy shit…” With your eyes blown wide and the vision of your number one top fantasy right in front of you, another orgasm tears through you almost instantly. That years old pornographic dream of getting fucked by a vampire after getting through watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer is now so real that it’s turning your blood into wildfire and you can’t believe the way you moan as you shake and drench his cock all over again.

It’s your reaction that makes him slip up, the instant orgasm when you realize you don’t see his reflection. His fangs were grazing over your throat and when you clench down around him, he cuts you. Groaning when the coppery tang of your blood hits his tongue. Making him growl and start sucking sloppily while he fucks into you like the supernatural monster that he is.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck!” At this point you feel like your body might just tense up and be in a constant state of cumming for the rest of the time he’s fucking you. The sight of the light trickle of blood welling up on your neck only to be licked away by an invisible tongue seconds later makes you gasp and keen, and the instant realization that your vampire fantasy is now a vampire fetish just makes the whole thing better. For now the only downside is that he’s fucking you so hard that you can’t catch your breath to babble at him about how amazing it feels.

There’s a beauty to not being seen, not having his reflection in the mirror. You can’t see that his face has completely morphed. Turned into the more gruesome visage of his being. Brow heavy and eyes yellow tinged with red, Max snarls when he feels his body lock up, driving impossibly deep into your hot cunt and making a nearly demonic noise as he fills you with ropes of his impotent seed.

“Max!” Only his name falls from your tongue as he buries himself as deeply as possible in your body and follows you down the rabbit hole of pleasure. You feel boneless and wrecked and absolutely ecstatic in ways you can’t quite describe as you pant for air, crushed underneath his weight on the cold marble countertop.

He doesn’t need to recover or catch his breath. He could pull out of you right now and be perfectly fine, save for his face still being a twisted visage of the image he normally presented. Still he leans over you, savoring the feeling of your cunt fluttering and your thighs shaking. “Pussy Cat has a secret.” He teases playfully, his tongue lapping up one last drop of your blood before he bites his lip and lets a drop of his blood heal your wound as if it never happened.

“A fucking convenient one.” Still mostly breathless, you twist under him to be able to see his face. The ridges and bumps of his transformation draw your eyes across them as you take it all in, fascinated rather than terrified with his cock still buried inside you. Your eyelids flutter a little, that flash of pure attraction undeniable in your veins. The same ones he just drank from. “You’re actually a vampire?”

“Shocker.” Max makes his face smooth back out, his now brown eyes wide and his lips twisted into a grin. “Evan is actually right about something.” He chuckles and opens his mouth so his fangs descend again to show you.

“Fuck.” It’s all excitement and wonderment on your part and you can’t deny it at all. “That’s…so fucking sexy,” you admit with a self-conscious giggle.

“Knew I liked you.” He teases, slapping your ass playfully as he leans back to let you straighten up. “Least you don’t have to worry about an accident with me.”

“Thank god.” When you stand up again it’s like a miniature flood from your pussy and you laugh again. “Because you cum like a fucking Super Soaker.” It’s nothing a couple of paper towels can’t clean up, but it’s fun to tease.

“Is there any other way?” Max asks as he uses another sink to clean up and hands you the shorts you had worn. Your panties slide into his pocket with a mischievous wink to you.

“Pathetic dribbles, usually.” You’ve never been dishonest with yourself about why you’re single, knowing that you like a rougher and more physically demanding sex life and that balancing that with a man who isn’t also an absolute jackass or abusive in some way isn’t easy. It’s why you embraced the ‘Cat’ jokes. Better a cat lady than miserable or bored, at least in your book. “Don’t worry,” you murmur, offering him a smile as you slip on your shorts. “I won’t tell.”

It’s surprisingly nice to hear you say that. No fear or worry in your voice, just confidence that he can trust you to keep a secret. The only other people in the office who knew are the ones he’s already changed. And Evan’s stupid ass, but no one believes him. “Let me feed you more than lame ass Halloween cocktails and canapés tomorrow.” He says suddenly. “Before I fuck you to death again.”

“I—what?” Having reached down to pick your t-shirt and bra up off the floor, you straighten up and look at him quizzically. Not because you’re not interested, obviously, but just because you’re surprised. “Are you asking me out?”

“I mean— I guess—uh, yeah.” He frowns slightly as if he’s just worked out that is what he’s actually doing. “Unless you have a strict ‘fuck but not date your boss’ policy?” He jokes, trying to cover up the slight nervous fear that you might turn him down. That you just wanted a quick bang in the bathroom.

“Not at all.” It’s almost a pity to get dressed, but he’s already cleaned up and tucked himself away, so you clip your bra on again easily. “Actually I’ve never fucked or dated my boss before at all, so this is new territory for me.” You pull your t-shirt over your head and adjust, smoothing out the wrinkles. “Seven o’clock tomorrow? You know where I live.”

“Yeah.” Max nods, checking his clothes in the mirror and then looking back at you. “Got some blood on your shirt, Pussy Cat.”

“Call it a souvenir.” A memento, you think with a grin. Throwing him a wink, you lean in to kiss him one more time before moving back toward the door. “See you out there?” It’s an effort to not come across as clingy, that you are so overly nonchalant. Because in reality you want to prance out there on his arm and proudly dare anyone to give you shit about disappearing to fuck.

Evan pounces on you as soon as you appear out of the hallway leading to the bathrooms. “Tell me you didn’t.” He practically hisses.

“Didn’t what?” You ask, feigning innocence. Of course he was going to get nasty about this. It’s not like it’s a secret that he hates Max.

“Come on, we need to go.” Evan is nearly panicking, seeing the spot of blood on your shirt. “We’re leaving.”

“Oh my god you’re so overprotective.” Overprotective and with an annoyingly tight grip as he steers you toward the other end of the ballroom with determination. You barely have a chance to glance back, catching a glimpse of Max right before even drags you out the door. You might have even liked the little bit of manhandling if you hadn’t just been fucked within an inch of your life by a vampire.

Max chuckles to himself as he sees you pull a harsh frown at your roommate. Tomorrow is going to be fun. He hopes like hell you don’t tell Evan about your date.

******

You oversleep like hell the next day, worn out but feeling energized all the same. The ache in your thighs is so gorgeously satisfying and you sit in the living room in your pjs with a book until it’s time to shower and get ready for your date. Evan has been out doing god knows what all day with Tim so you haven’t had to avoid more arguing like the night before. It got bad enough that you have nearly threatened to move out if he tried to keep telling you what to do. By the time Evan comes home, you’re showered and dressed and finishing your makeup, just watching the clock tick down in anticipation.

“Where are you going?” The mournful eyes he gives you can’t hide being bitterly upset. He doesn’t know why you don’t believe him. He’s only got your best interests at heart, maybe a little selfish on his part, but that was to be expected.

“Out.” This time you don’t mean to be evasive, you just really don’t know where Max is taking you. “Dinner, I think. Did you have a good day?” Despite being pissed at him for presuming to tell you how to live your life, he’s still your friend.

“No.” Evan shakes his head. “I don’t want you to be mad at me, but Max is dangerous.” He stresses, imploring you to understand.

“Ev, I really don’t want to fight with you, but you need to drop it.” Pinching your eyes shut doesn’t banish the tinge of a headache that you can feel forming from the topic, and you turn to check your reflection in the mirror one more time - eventually biting back a grin when you remember looking up to see no reflection at all behind you last night. “I know you don’t like him,” you tell Evan. “But you are also very biased against him by your own admission.”

He sighs sulkily. “Want me to go with you?” He offers, wanting to find out where you are going. You’re mad at him and it’s not something he likes, but he hates you being so blasé about Max. “Maybe we could go to that bar around the corner.”

The lobby buzzer sounds from the wall panel in your kitchen at the same moment you turn and frown at your roommate. “Do I want you to come on my date with me? Come on, Evan. No. That’s both weird and honestly a little rude. Especially when I haven’t even told you who it’s with.” He’ll find out in a second, but you go over and hit the buzzer to let him into the lobby so he can come upstairs. Evan’s going to have to get over it eventually.

“You’re going on a date?” If possible, he looks even more remorseful, but he shakes his head. “I didn’t— it’s not Max, is it?”

“What if it was?” You pick up your jacket from the hook by the door and double check your pockets for your wallet, phone, and keys. “I couldn’t tell you, could I?” It just makes you shake your head, honestly a little heart sore over the whole thing. “I can’t be excited that the guy I’ve liked for ages finally asked me out because my roommate is on a righteous crusade against him.”

“It’s not a crusade!” Evan insists, reaching out for your hand. “I d-don’t want to see anything happen to you.” He doesn’t want you dating anyone but he really doesn’t want you dating Max. The idea that you have a crush on him hurts, considering you know what he did to him.

“Ev…” You sigh, turning to face him even as you hear footsteps approaching your door. “I swear, if he hurts me or doesn’t treat me right, or does anything that I don’t like, I will dump his ass faster than lightning.” Even so, the rhythmic knock on the door makes you grin, eager to see Max again after just a day.

It’s important that you qualify that you don’t like talking about Max hurting you or being disrespectful, because there are definitely kinds of ‘hurt’ that you enjoy more than most. “And I’m not asking you to suddenly be best friends with him or even spend time around him outside of work. I’m just…I really like him. And I want to see where this goes.”

Was what happened between them in college shitty? Of course. But that lies as much on Evan’s shitty girlfriend’s shoulders as anyone else in your opinion, and you squeeze his hand before going to open the door for Max.

“Hey Pussy Cat!” Max grins, wearing jeans and a leather motorcycle jacket. He peels off his sunglasses as he looks you up and down with a very pleased expression and then offers the flowers he had brought. Flowers for dates were a must. Especially after the way he fucked you. “You look good enough to eat!”

“Don’t be mean,” you chide him, knowing his hearing is good enough that he definitely just heard you defend him to Evan. The flowers he has brought are stunning - deep reds and purples dotted with blues. “Do you want to come in while I put these in water? They’re beautiful.”

“Are you inviting me in?” He waggles his brows playfully and Evan nearly turns purple.

“SEE? He has to be invited in! Only vampires do that!” Evan’s voice nearly reaches the soprano range, it’s gone up so many octaves.

Max chuckles and steps into the entryway of your apartment. “Actually pal…that’s the same for demons, goblins and warlocks. Witches get a free pass for some reason.”

“Witches are still human.” Is the explanation you offer, figuring that playing along with the game is the way to be the least conspicuous. “Do you two need to be separated while I put these in my room or can you be in the same room without killing each other?” It’s kind of an honest question, all things considered, but you raise an eyebrow at Max asking him to behave as you grab your vase from the kitchen counter.

“I’m always a team player.” Max reminds you innocently, even fluttering his lashes at you. He’s not physically hurt Evan since punching him in the nose after he had been a little shit and lied to get him expelled and academically shunned from every fucking college but the one where he was turned into a vampire. “Ev and I will be fine, won’t we?” He throws his arm around Evan’s shoulder and squeezes him close as he grins at him, enjoying the other man’s discomfort.

“Be nice, please.” Is your one request, made to both of them, before you disappear to deposit the beautiful buds in the vase that will sit on your bedside table.

“Get off of me.” Evan hisses, shrugging out from Max’s arm and turning on him. “If you hurt her…” He trails off to seem more threatening and Max shoots him a grin.

“Buddy… pal…” He coos. “Don’t worry. It’s gonna be fine. Just…” He winks at Evan. “Make sure you have some good headphones tonight.”

You can hear them as you disappear down the hall and allow yourself to grin, shaking your head at the way Max doesn’t even pretend to assure Evan you won’t get hurt. Because there is no way your friend could wrap his head around the fact that having Max’s fangs cut into your skin was half of what made you cum so hard last night. Pain and pleasure mixed – and the promise of more – make you shiver with anticipation as you quickly drop the vase of flowers beside your bed.

Maybe you’ll ask Max to go back to his place, though, just so you don’t rub it in. Because you are definitely going to make some noise tonight. Your throbbing pussy insists on it.

______

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san-station · 4 years

Text

A Quiet Place AU / ATEEZ (Post-apocalyptic)

Chapter 1

↝Word count: 1772

Description: In a world full of silence and dangerous creatures seeking for blood, a group of friends have to survive for their own good and find the safe place they’ve heard about months ago.

Pairing: OC x San.

Note: This story is entirely fictional. The written universe is an adaptation of John Krasinski’s movie A Quiet Place, some terms or actions may or may not be included in the film.

WARNING: The followed story contains descriptions of violence, explicit wounds, mention of blood, death, depression. If you are easily disturbed, please, stop reading for you own good.

A/N: Hiiii, this is my first serie ever. I hope you like the beginning~! Sorry if there are some typos. Don't be shy, comment what you think about it ;3.

・・・・・・・・

Watch Your Steps

We had to rush, except none of us moved, our feet glued to the cement as if it was still fresh. We knew we had to run but again, none of us could assimilate it. The sound that lasted a millisecond wasn’t even the loudest, however they could hear the smallest chirp of a cricket in the deepest forest, the purring of a cat under a lot of sheets or the yawn of a baby before going to bed as silent as the wind blowing slowly… No matter if we were on the top of the skyscraper, they always heard.

It hit my shocked face when the growls started. I was tired, thirsty, my legs hurt and I hadn’t eaten a proper food in forever; who would’ve thought that a fucking pile of beer bottles hidden behind the door of a small bird house located on one of the rooftop’s corners could ruined three months of surviving the craziest era humanity ever lived. Once the bottles stopped rolling through the wooden floor, my lungs felt fire due to the air I retained, my hands started to shake inside my coat... and it hit me again. We need to fucking run, was the only thing on my mind, but I was not being the reasonable person I was, the common sense was off the place and so were my hopes.

Since I was a child, I thought heights were the scariest thing in the world. The moment I stepped into the rooftop I was already hyperventilating, but it couldn’t compare to the feeling of being chased by those bloodthirsty creatures, and I knew I wasn’t the only one thinking about that, of course. The two people with me had the same expression on their faces. Seonghwa, the guy on my right, tall, blue eyes, body shaped, black hair and paternal instinct, looked at me with wide eyes; he quickly put a hand over my mouth and shook his head violently, words couldn’t be exchanged at that moment, not when we were that close to be slaughter, but his eyes could tell everything. Don’t scream.

In front of us was Misuk, a small and chubby girl with a fearsome attitude who happened to be the other only girl that was stuck with us. She had short blonde hair and the most amusing personality ever (at least for me). She was the one that opened the door nonchalant trying to find bird seed... Oh, I can tell she was really mad at herself; Misuk was the one telling us to be more careful every step we made (even though we knew), and she always put sand or wet dirt on the places where there was none to prevent any of us from stepping on false. Oh, Misuk…

My body began to feel numb and the cold wind wasn’t helping either. Seonghwa’s black hair danced with the breeze along with his clothes, he was wearing a long beige sheep coat that Yunho had made two months ago, skinny black jeans with ripped knees, sneakers too dirty to remember their original color because of the lack of water and a sharp knife on his leather black belt. The handle of it had his initials, “P.S”, engraved in silver with a lovely handwriting. Misuk had her natural outfit when we had to go scavenging for supplies, a pair of worn blue jeans, old black Converses, a brown t-shirt with the logo of NASA and a big black jean jacket with some alien patches. Funny, she loved those things before they arrived, after realizing that she actually liked the little friendly green buddies like E.T instead of the monsters that came to Earth. Well, after a while she found another affinity: collecting some alien fragments from their dead bodies for her own pleasure.

Misuk was a weird kid, but everyone liked her in their own way. I, for example, used to have some discussions about provisions or night shifts with her ‘cause of her lack of leadership and consciousness; I always preferred order, and everything had to be calculated, at least in this madness. But she was a free spirit, she never listened when Seonghwa or Hongjoong made a statement about her, she never cleaned when it was her turn, she sometimes laughed way too loud on our soundproof room and got all of us shhhing her,… but you gotta stick together in this if you want to survive.

Thirty minutes ago we were on the crusade to find more supplies for the rest of the group, it was the calm day #438 after the attack, creatures with hypersensitive hearing showed up on Earth after a meteor shower impacted in December of 2020. We head through the city once the sunrise illuminated the area. Seonghwa, Misuk and I were the assigned crew for the task of recollecting provisions for, at least, two long months. Well, we assigned ourselves because we’d been in those walls for like forever. San was pissed about it, but we didn’t care… now I think it was not a good idea after all.

“Jiyeong,” Misuk called me with sign language when she stopped walking in the middle of the deserted road that connected our place with the city ruins we were heading to. Misuk’s hands followed a sequence while moving her lips simultaneously, “we should split to find more rations by ourselves, right?”, she shifted her bag from one shoulder to another and gave me a bright smile.

I hesitated. The last time we splitted up, we never found Jin, he was Misuk's brother and a friend to all of us. Hongjoong still blamed himself for allowing that option for starters.

“I think it’s better for the three of us to stay together…”, Seonghwa signed with his hands covered by brown leather gloves thanks to the cold air that surrounded most of the city in late February. We both nodded in agreement, not before Misuk rolled her eyes at him and kept walking over the scattered sand that created a path of silence down our bared feet.

The city was an hour left on foot, people obviously forgot about the cars after the sound of the engine roaring was too loud and mortal for all of us. Step by step we got closer and the city buildings risen before us; sometimes (more than we needed) we found other individuals on the streets doing the same we’d been doing for months: surviving. On good days, we found families or old friends walking silently and moving on from their houses to others. On bad days -not my favorite ones to be honest- there were suicidal types of people that transformed the atmosphere completely just to put everyone around in danger. It wasn’t funny running or hiding for your life when you did nothing for them to come for you… I disgusted those kinds of people that believed they could choose who lives and who dies. Moreover, there were days when nothing happened, like almost these three months that we stayed underground with enough supplies in our soundproof room that allowed us to speak when we needed the most, we just went outside to find more provisions or walk and watch the sunset; but nothing last forever, supplies were almost running out and we had to finally get more.

The rooftop we ended up praying for our lives was our last searching point, Misuk wanted the bird seeds so much that she insisted on going all by herself after two long hours, she said we were slowing her down, however you couldn’t be alone out there. Not when they could hear you anytime.

I could listen my thumping heart on my ears; the growling became louder, closer, and the unpleasant feeling in my stomach gave me nauseous. Seonghwa stared now at Misuk; she had a deadpan face and decided to close the bird house slowly with her right hand while her left hand rested on her mouth for preventing her of letting out a gasp. I shook my head. Just leave it like that!, I wanted to scream at her. But when the beer bottles rolled again and collided with a seed bag inside the little house, it felt dry on the floor with the most horrendous echoing sound. I swallow hard, my head hurt and the shrill shout that came from the rooftop door activated all my senses. My brain proceeded to watch everything in front of me as if it was on slow-motion.

One creature broke the door with a clean slam, a second one followed its entrance. Their knife-hands cut the metal with a perfect precision and distant howls filled the place when one of them jumped higher that a human being could ever do. My shaky breath was held by Seonghwa’s hands when I stepped back, my fingers reached his owns and I squeezed them as tight as I could against my mouth. Misuk turned around as fast as she could when the hand of one creature slammed into her stomach in within seconds, the deafening sound of her ribs breaking made the tears instantly fall down from my cheeks to Seonghwa’s gloves, she gasped. The sore flesh was vividly cut and her eyes, wide and green, looked to the sky while her body jerked on the floor with a thump. The enormous hollow in the center of her belly straight away scattered overflowing blood all over the floor, and the rest of her body rested on the cement, still she found a way to turn her head into our direction and gave us a sad smile. Red drops were now on our clothes and faces, some of her large intestine and lungs were being eaten by both creatures making grumbling noises. It looked like they were having a Thanksgiving meal and we were probably the desert.

Then, a creatures pulled up its head and the sides of it was wide open as we saw the sound sensors vibrating, trying to reach for more victims nearby. Seonghwa and I could only watch the scene petrified. A tiny groan left Misuk’s throat with her last breath and I gasped in silence while my soaked eyes blurred part of the view, the ripping sounds of bones and flesh continued and I felt Seonghwa’s chest shake a little on my back, but he kept his head high aware of the beasts in front of us. I don’t know if he closed his eyes, I just know we stood there still watching our friend die and hoping we wouldn’t be next.

(…)

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