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#monster hunter rating
zaph1337 · 1 year
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Monster Hunter Rating 48: Hermitaur
Just as Blango introduced Monster Hunter to the magic of monkey, so too does our next monster bring a breath of fresh air to the series. We may have seen arthropods before, but those were all insects; none of them were the ultimate in evolution, the pinnacle of the animal kingdom, the true inheritors of the Earth. Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you, Hermitaur, better known...as CRAB.
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(How it appears in the Second Generation games)
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(How it appears in Monster Hunter 4 Ultimate [sorry for the poor quality; I had to enlarge it])
Appearance: I’ve been thinking: arguably the hardest part of these is assigning them a number rating. I’m constantly trying to figure out whether I like something better or worse than something else to keep the numbers consistent with my reactions, but I’m almost never sure which one I prefer or what each number actually means--they’re basically arbitrary at this point, so why bother stressing out over them so much? From now on, I’m just going to talk about my thoughts on each monster, rather than try to grade them.
On to what you’re actually here for, Hermitaurs are...well...giant crabs. That’s it, really. Don’t get me wrong, giants crabs have a novelty all their own, but it doesn’t leave me with much else to say about them. I guess the shells are pretty cool; they’re not big enough to hide in, which is kinda the main point of having a shell, but armor is armor, and it’s nice that Hermitaurs aren’t exactly like real hermit crabs and instead offer their own take on shelled crustaceans.
Behavior/Lore: Hermitaurs are juvenile forms of Daimyo Hermitaur, and are generalists that populate deserts and other biomes in great numbers, though their habit of hiding underground unless disturbed means that the majority of them likely go unnoticed. When I call them generalists, I mean it--they’ll eat basically anything, even humans. On the flip side, humans will eat Hermitaurs, too--specifically their brains, which are apparently a delicacy (not that I’d ever try it--blech). We’re not the only ones that’ll eat these things, as Plesioth and other Large Monsters will also gobble them up.
Unfortunately, that’s all we got: habitats, eating habits, and what eats them. There’s barely anything to talk about here, even for a Small Monster. C’mon, crabs, give me something to work with here.
Abilities: They protect themselves with their shells and pinch you. I have nothing more to say, y’all already know I’m disappointed.
Equipment: Just like with Blango, most of the Hermitaur weapons require parts from their Large Monster, so finding ones that were strictly Hermitaur was tricky. I’ve got two for your viewing pleasure, though, starting with the Great Sword, the Red Stripe:
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Y’know, now that I know more about MH lore, it’s weird that serrated or barbed weapons would ever be used in monster hunting; the Guild places so much emphasis on respecting monsters--even when hunting them--that you’d think they’d outlaw such weapons, as the added spikes and such don’t increase the weapon’s effectiveness so much as they increase the amount of pain and suffering the target is put through (which, “fun” fact, is why using barbed/serrated weapons in war is a war crime). Then again, this is a video game that operates on video game logic, so I guess the spikes do make the weapon better. Anyways, the Red Stripe’s fine; it certainly gives me the impression that it’s an early-game weapon, though that’s mostly due to the straightforward design and muted colors.
Now, here’s something special for you: a long time ago, back when I was first writing these, I got a message from someone who recommended a Monster Hunter database called Kiranico for weapon images, since I was having issues finding decently-sized ones on the wiki. I didn’t actually use the database since the pictures weren’t big enough for my liking there, either, but I recently found out that the MHGen database specifically has larger images available (none for armor, though), so I’ll be referring to it for certain weapons now, such as this Light Bowgun called the Striped Shell:
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I think the funniest thing about this weapon is that it’s clearly a normal rifle that all this Hermitaur stuff was attached to, and somehow those monster parts make it more effective. I was gonna make a snide remark about the spikes on the silencer (at least I think that’s what that is), but then I remembered that Bowguns have a melee attack, so I guess they’re good for that? Overall, this weapon has a sleek design, and I like it.
I’ll reserve my thoughts on the Hermitaur equipment for when/if we get to the Daimyo Hermitaur (my interest in doing these is flagging again, if you couldn’t tell by the time between posts), but so far, they’re on the right track.
Final Thoughts: It’s crab. It’s big. That’s all there is to say about Hermitaur, but trust me, their adult forms are something to behold. Hopefully we’ll make it to that point.
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pennzance · 8 months
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Got hoodwinked into downloading Monster Hunter Now and I am ceaselessly watching to see if more of these damn dinosaurs are trying to invade my house.
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nathanwinter · 1 year
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"Tell me who hurt you.” His voice slides out from between bared teeth in a low, threatening growl, hands tightening on your waist, and you are shocked to see him so angry.
No, that’s not right. His nostrils flare with each hard breath, and his gaze does not wander from yours for even a second. There is no lascivious amusement edging his features, no chance that he might break into a grin or make some sly remark that is equal parts frightening and teasing. He looks like he is barely holding himself back from tearing something – not you, but something – to shreds.
Viktor is not angry, he is furious.
--
We're back in business baby
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sinkat-arts · 4 months
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Blood Upon The Snow
Ch 7 | Daisuga | ~16.5k | Rated E Cowboy Monster Hunter Suga | Shapeshifter Daichi
The horror was large, looming. It stole the air right out of his lungs - but fuck his lungs, he’d breathe when Daichi was safe.
Read on AO3 >
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inkedmyths · 11 months
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God monster hunter's soundtrack is so underrated and good. Why are we not talking about this. Can we talk about this. Please.
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violetqueenofwands · 2 months
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Rate my set up
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videogame-gecs · 4 months
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the forest gecko from Monster Hunter world is a drab lil fella, albeit a realistic coloration for many species.
5/5
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natsubeatsrock · 2 years
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Ranking Mashima’s Series
This was a long time in coming. Let's rank the different series Mashima has written over the years. No, I'm not including Gate of Nightmares.
My descriptions for the rankings have been pretty small for other lists. This one will have much longer explanations. Of course, I don't want to spoil much about these series.
#6. Monster Soul
It feels weird that I'm putting this series here in this ranking. I've probably talked about this series more than anyone on this site. Though, I have the least interest to talk about this series among all of Mashima's works. To be fair, this series would have benefitted the most from getting more time to breathe. I get that this was supposed to be a short series, but I want more. It would have been fun to see the Black Airs do more in their world. I wish that this series was a bit more popular, at least enough to own a version of Aki's hoodie.
#5. Monster Hunter Orage
I read this a couple months ago, while I was doing a challenge to draw various Mashima characters. I'm not a big fan of Monster Hunter, though I have been meaning to get into the games. Even so, this was fun to go through. If you didn't know, Mashima is a massive fan of the Monster Hunter series. You can see it in the extra panels he drew of his staff "researching" for the work. Would I rank it higher if I was a fan of the series? Maybe. Though, I'm more settled with what we have now. Shiki and Allee might be my least favorite Mashima MCs. The addition of the main group's final character happens too late. This is another series that might have benefitted from more chapters.
#4. HERO'S
Yes, I'm counting this as a series. Why wouldn't I? This is ultimately a love letter for the fans of Mashima's works from Weekly Shonen Magazine. This was one of my favorite things to come out of 2019, which was a pretty stacked year. It might be one of my favorite manga series in the past few years. There are so many hints and easter eggs you'll notice if you love the different series. I noted out as many as I could a couple years ago. Mashima's the only person I know in the anime/manga industry that could possibly make a series like this happen. Several manga writers have two popular series, but I can't think of anyone with three. This was one of many things that made me fall back in love with Mashima as a writer.
#3. Fairy Tail
I don't know that I need to say anything about this series here. I've been writing so much about what Fairy Tail is and does over the past seven years of my life. As much as I've complained about how it fails and how insane its fans are, I genuinely enjoy this series. What I will talk about is why this isn't higher on this list. Fairy Tail is the Mashima series that has the most eyes on it. It's the only series that has had a complete anime adaptation. It is widely popular among anime and manga fans. I still see volumes of it in print as I go to buy manga and comics. I'm not sure that Mashima is as interested in it as everyone else is. Reading his comments after the fact, I feel like he's made peace with where Fairy Tail is, even as he's still writing for it. His more laissez-faire plans for writing Fairy Tail led to a worse overall product than the other two works. Still, I love this series more than many series I'd rank higher than it. In fact, my MAL scoring is based on my feelings for Fairy Tail.
#2. EDENS ZERO
It feels wrong to rank this series, especially this high. It's still an ongoing series. If current events are anything to go by, anything is possible. I have no idea where this series goes from this point. I went into reading this series with years of experience with Mashima's writing. I figured several crazy twists outright wouldn't have happened during the series. That said, Mashima is outdoing himself. He's doing some amazing work with this series. Mashima is creating one of the best next-generation manga series. Its anime adaptation is the best anime version of any of its works. Nothing is close. I love the dynamics between all of the main cast characters, especially this Shiki and his female counterparts. I've seen people who hated Mashima over Fairy Tail eat their words while reading EZ. By the time this series is done, this might be better than my current number one and more popular than even Fairy Tail. Of course, it can also get worse as it continues. Only time will tell with this series. Though, this series will tell you that time does not exist. 
#1. Rave Master
It feels like an insult to say that Mashima hasn't ever topped his first work. Fairy Tail's highs don't make up for its lows. EZ is coming close but still has yet to top it. Mashima's other works are too short to allow for their ideas to develop more. The reason for this is pretty simple. This series plays to Mashima's strengths. Mashima went into this series knowing what he wanted to do and he did it. He kept most of the arcs to at least 4 volumes. Mashima's gotten better at breaking both since Rave ended.  But this is very much Mashima in his bag. As for the story, it has some of the best versions of Mashima's characters. Haru might be his best-written protagonist. As headstrong as he can be, he earnestly desires to reduce the loss of life to as little as possible. Elie is absolutely his best female lead. When I look back at her actions, I can't imagine someone like Lucy or Rebecca in her shoes. Their relationship should be considered top 10 in shonen action romances. Mashima's dark moments and plot twists hit incredibly hard. It took almost a decade and a half to get anything close to as dark as Abyss Break. He has yet to top the big twist from the Truth of Elie arc, despite some strong challenges. The only meaningful knock against this series is its anime adaptation. Nothing seriously hints towards getting a new version of Rave. But with the manga readily available in digital form, fans of Mashima can and should easily read this series.
See you tomorrow!
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kicksnscribs · 1 year
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Y’all ever just play a game and reach a point where you finally go “why the fuck am I playing this??”
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datadegroove · 7 months
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zaph1337 · 11 months
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Monster Hunter Rating 58: Daimyo Hermitaur, the Shelled Sovereign
I keep hearing that everything is evolving into crabs, but I honestly have no idea what that’s all about. If it’s true, though, then here’s something we may see in the future: the Daimyo Hermitaur!
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(How it appears in the Second Generation)
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(How it appears in Monster Hunter Rise: Sunbreak)
Appearance: While Daimyo may be little more than giant Hermitaur, that design works well with the increased size to make something truly imposing, especially the mouth. You might have noticed one other, tiny, honestly insignificant detail: that’s not a shell, that’s a Monoblos’ skull. I’ll discuss that more in the next section, but appearance-wise, a crab using another creature’s skull as a shell is a powerful image, and it makes the Daimyo Hermitaur several times cooler than it would be if it just had a normal shell. This monster certainly leaves an impression.
Behavior/Lore: When a Hermitaur reaches adulthood, it becomes a Daimyo Hermitaur. They keep their habits of burrowing underground, wandering for food, and occasionally eating people, but they’re actually not very aggressive; sure, they’ll lash out when they feel threatened, but animals choose between that or running away anyways. You can stand right in front of a Daimyo and--provided it’s not hungry--it’ll leave you be so long as you do the same for it. This relaxed behavior is probably due to the carapaceons’ armor, which protects everything but their backsides--which are where most of their major organs are located. I can’t tell whether this is a failure on evolution’s part or its idea of a sick joke. But like the hermit crabs they’re modeled after, Daimyo have a solution for this...one you’ve already seen, but let me pretend there’s suspense.
To cover their Achilles’ rump, Daimyo Hermitaur will take the skulls of large wyverns (mostly Monoblos) and wear them like a shell. This comes with the addition advantage of being totally metal, but it’s not a perfect system; when you rely on something else’s body parts for protection, you’re gonna run into the fact that those parts weren’t made with you in mind. As a result, it’s not uncommon to see Daimyo running around with skulls too big or small for them. Kinda makes you wonder why they don’t go for something else’s skull in that situation, but my guess is that Monoblos heads are particularly durable, making them the preferred choice.
While I get that Daimyo are just the mature form of Hermitaur and therefore won’t be very different, I do wish there was more to talk about than their temperament and skull shells. That last one’s a pretty big point in their favor, though, so I can’t say I’m terribly disappointed.
Abilities: You wouldn’t expect a crab to have particularly strong legs, yet Daimyo Hermitaur are capable of jumping high into the air in attempts to squash their enemies, and use their legs and forelimbs to dig underground to launch attacks from below. You would expect a crab to make use of its claws, and Daimyo do that, too, though not in a traditional way; while yes, the pincers can grab things, they’re also so thick and armored that they serve as effective shields against most weapons. Finally, reaching adulthood grants Daimyo Hermitaur a brand-new power: pressurizing water into jets that allow the colossal crustacean to attack from a distance. Hermitaur didn’t do a lot before, so it’s nice that growing up bestows them with new tactics and abilities.
Equipment: Have you ever thought that using scythes as weapons was too practical an idea? Do you want to fight using only the most inefficient and unwieldy objects possible? Then look no further than this “Long Sword”: the Crab Cutter!
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With ordinary scythes, you only had to deal with the measly difficulty of actually cutting someone with the blade. Now, with this revolutionary new weapon, you can push the challenge further by forcing yourself to line up your attacks with the serrated gap! It’s the ultimate in combat inefficiency!
What do you mean you can just use it as a blunt beating object
Okay, jokes aside, this is a pretty interesting take on a scythe...and a morbid one, too, considering the description claims “[t]he giant claw's gap devours meat.” I don’t think I want to know if that’s a metaphor or not. Maybe the next weapon will be less disturbing? Let’s find out--this Insect Glaive is called the Shell Intoner:
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This is “[a] rod used by a river people to channel their god and receive oracles.” Why is it a weapon, then? Who knows? But it looks cool, it’s got a cool description, and as an Insect Glaive, it gets bias points from me. I would definitely use this--provided the stats are decent.
Onto the armor, the Blademaster set is...interesting:
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It was the first thing I thought of, okay?
Seriously, I get the idea: crabs are armored creatures and football players have to wear heavy padding and helmets to make up for playing one of the most violent sports in the world, but it’s still weird to see, especially in a fantasy setting like Monster Hunter. Granted, that’s only the men’s set; the women’s set is way less bulky to the point where it’s almost comical. It still looks defensive, but it serves as a surprisingly modest example of the priorities game devs give to female armor. Overall, I don’t hate these designs, but they’re hard to take seriously.
Next up is the Gunner set, which is similar to the Blademaster’s, but a bit more...intense:
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I’ll admit, “Mad Max the Quarterback” is an...original look. Don’t know what the mask has to do with crabs, but then again, football doesn’t have anything to do with crabs, either. Can’t say much about the women’s set, though; it’s very similar to the Blademaster armor, save for the helmet, spiked greaves, and the pattern on the breastplate. I wish I could say more about these, but other than their oddities, I’m struggling to find anything to talk about. Both armor sets have aspects that interest me, but overall, I feel very lukewarm about them.
While I like the crustacean aesthetic and how it’s applied to the Daimyo Hermitaur equipment, I can’t really say too much about it. I can’t tell if that’s due to the equipment itself, or if I’m just running out of steam writing these reviews again; maybe it’s both. All I can really say is that the equipment is okay, with a few interesting touches added that keep them from being bare-bones.
Final Thoughts: Daimyo Hermitaur vastly improve upon their adolescent forms; they’re cooler thanks to their skull shells, they’re more imposing thanks to their size, and they’re more interesting to fight since they can do more than snip at you. Their equipment is decent, too, so overall, I think they’re neat.
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smileysuh · 7 months
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twisted fate
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🌙 staring. Wonwoo x afab!Reader
🔮 preview. “He deserved it,” Wonwoo assures you, reaching out to grab you by the back of the neck, pulling you closer. He’s covered in blood, and he looks like a sexy, wild monster. But he’s your monster, and you can’t help but react, leaning in- “Jesus Christ,” you hear Jeonghan breathe, turning to give you and Wonwoo privacy while he presses his lips against yours hungrily. At first, you can try to ignore the wet liquid on your fingertips as you grab at his strong shoulders, but you can’t ignore the taste on his tongue. Your body goes rigid and Wonwoo pulls back with a sigh, resting his forehead against yours. It’s an oddly peaceful moment amongst the chaos.
tw/cw. murder/blood, dickhead vampire wonwoo, yandere subthemes, kidnapping?, biting, blood play, throat grabbing, manhandling, begging, controlling!wonwoo, praise, dirty talk, fingering, mean dom Wonwoo, multiple reader orgasms, finger-licking, choking, unprotected sex, big dick Wonwoo, size kink, slight dacryphilia, gentle spanking, dumbification, begging, hair pulling, etc… I pet names: (hers) darling, brat, pet, etc.
👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 14.3k
🍭 aus. vampire/vampire hunter au, soulmate au, enemies to lovers, etc…
☀️ mlist + an. I guess for October I just put out bangers, this one has a lot of blood play cuz it's vampire wonwoo, so be warned
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There’s something different about you, and Wonwoo notices the moment you step into the bar. He has his fair share of experience with places that cater to vampires, and after over a hundred years, he knows how to spot humans with an interest in his kind. Many of the women swarming around him have a certain look in their eye, their pulses racing with excitement, but you… well, there’s something off about the way you hold yourself.
You certainly look the part of a fang bunny, your attire all black, but you’re dressed much more conservatively than the lingerie clad girls that normally frequent this place. Still, even with your form half hidden under a leather jacket, Wonwoo can tell he likes what he sees of you. 
Some of his friends like the hunt. They have big egos and take pleasure in chasing their food down, but Wonwoo doesn’t share in this thirst for a conquest. He won’t approach you, he’ll simply watch. It will be amusing to see what you end up doing tonight if nothing else.
His eyes follow you as you head to the bar, leaning over the counter to talk with one of the human workers. From a distance, and with the bar practically full of noise, Wonwoo can’t make out your words, but that doesn’t really matter to him. You’re interesting enough to watch, but Wonwoo’s not sure he’d actually care for anything you have to say, especially not when he can stare at your ass instead.
The discussion is a short one, and Wonwoo catches the bartender nodding in his direction. This is new behaviour, but the vampire supposes he shouldn’t be shocked at the loose lipped humans who work here. No one keeps a secret like a vampire, and as Wonwoo watches you slip a bill over the counter, he’s filled with annoyance at the money hunger of mere mortals.
You slip into the crowd again, and it’s clear you’re making your way over toward the elevated section of the club, where Wonwoo sits at a table drinking what appears to be red wine with two of his broodmates. 
“Who are you watching?” Mingyu asks, leaning forward to get a better look. 
“No one important,” Wonwoo responds smoothly, swirling the blood in his wine glass before downing it. He’s curious as to what will happen next, and if you are coming over in the hopes of being bitten, he wants to be satiated enough to not give into the temptation of draining you. 
Vampire bars generally have a strict no killing policy. The underworld has few sanctuaries like this one, and they can’t have human law enforcement going through their ‘wine barrels’ if a murder takes place in or around the property. 
Wonwoo’s eyes find you again. You’re much closer now, and your gaze is fixed on him. You’re like a cute little butterfly heading straight for the spider’s web, and it makes Wonwoo grin to himself. 
He stands up from the booth when you’re a few feet away, and Wonwoo notes your pulse quicken, your steps faltering. To your credit, Wonwoo is much larger now than when he was sitting, and he has to lower his gaze to meet your own. “Are you lost?” he asks, taking in your outfit at a leisurely pace now that you’re right in front of him.
“No, I-” You take a breath. “Are you Wonwoo?”
“Depends who’s asking,” he muses.
“I’ve been looking for you,” you try to explain, raising your voice over the noise of the bar. 
Wonwoo can hear you perfectly fine, but he knows the noise must be difficult on your weak human ears. He leans forward. “Sounds interesting. Let’s step outside to talk, it’s too loud in here.”
He watches the way you pause, considering the proposition.
You’re definitely not a fang bunny. Any vampire lover would jump at the chance to get alone with him. You’re much too guarded, and it intrigues him even more.
“Okay,” you nod. 
Wonwoo steps closer, hand finding the small of your back as he begins to guide you through the club toward the back exit. You stiffen under his touch, and Wonwoo’s fingers skim over the hilt of what he presumes to be a blade under your leather jacket.
He wonders how you got in with a badly concealed weapon, but he supposes the human bouncers can be just as susceptible to bribery as bartenders can. He’ll have to talk with the club owner about hiring vampire security, even if such jobs are ‘below’ his kind. 
Your heart rate is increasing with each step, but you’re doing your best to breathe evenly, and Wonwoo is amused by it. Either you know he’s a vampire, in which case, you should know you can’t fool him, or, maybe you’re just stupid, he can’t quite tell.
Wonwoo’s heart doesn’t beat. It hasn’t in too many years to count, but he gets that familiar tingle of excitement running along his skin as he gets closer to the door that will lead you behind the bar. You’re not a sure catch, not what Mingyu would fondly call a ‘cute juicebox.’ Wonwoo’s always been curious, and his interest is peaked by the unknown outcome of this interaction.
As you make it to the exit, Wonwoo holds the door open for you. With one last pause, you walk through. 
The vampire grins to himself, following you into the night.
The alleyway is deserted, the perfect spot for Wonwoo to figure you out. 
His eyes follow you as you put a few feet of distance between him and yourself, running an anxious hand through your hair. 
“You were just about to tell me why you’re looking for me,” Wonwoo says, pretending to be helpful, when in reality, he only wants to satiate his own curiosity.   
“I heard you might know someone I’ve been trying to find, a Mister Sung.”
Wonwoo’s throat tightens. He hasn’t heard his maker’s name in many years. It frustrates him that it still has an effect on him, and Wonwoo’s fist clenches at his side. “I don’t know anyone by that name,” he lies. 
“I’ve been told you do,” you insist.
He’s tired of you now, anger growing by the second inside of him.
“I don’t know anyone by that name,” Wonwoo repeats, unable to say the name in question. He refuses to taste it on his lips again, and he can feel his fangs beginning to throb, his need to taste something sweeter growing as he stares you down. 
You begin to reach for your jacket, but you’re much too slow for the older vampire, who immediately catches your wrist in a vice grip. 
“Don’t grab your weapon,” he warns. “It will only make me harder on you.”
Your pulse is racing now. Wonwoo can see your carotid artery leaping against your skin. He holds back a groan, stepping closer. 
You move away, back hitting the brick wall behind you.
“Nowhere to run,” Wonwoo muses. “You’re a vampire hunter, aren’t you, darling? Shame. I’ve never seen a hunter move as slow as you do. But I guess these days there aren’t many people who could teach you the craft, I’ve killed my share of them.”
Your pupils dilate with fear, and it makes Wonwoo’s head spin. He’s going to enjoy this. 
The club might have a no killing humans policy, but vampire hunters are free game. He’ll be doing everyone a favour, and get his fill while doing it. 
“Stop-” You gasp, struggling against his grip, but Wonwoo’s hands might as well be metal, as there’s no way you’re breaking free of him.
He’s grown tired of this. As a curious human who may have walked into the wrong bar, you’d been interesting, but as a vampire hunter with no skill, you mean nothing to him. 
He’s amused when you try to punch at him with your free hand, but that only leads to him grabbing it and pinning it with your other wrist, squeezing you tight enough to have you gasping again. 
With both your wrists captured in one hand, he’s free to bring the other to your face, pinching your jaw. “Don’t scream,” he warns you, “and don’t struggle, you’ll only make things worse.”
Wonwoo’s gotten accustomed to staring into a person’s eyes as they realize they’ve just met death himself, and he’ll never get tired of it. He licks his lips, able to taste your fear in the cold night air. His self control has worn thin, but Wonwoo’s never been the type to hold himself back from an easy kill. 
With one sharp motion, he pushes your head to the side, giving him full access to your neck. Your artery leaps, pressing against your skin, and Wonwoo lets out a groan of relief as he dives in, sharp fangs piercing you.
You release a muffled gasp, clawing at his forearm while you struggle against the wall. The taste that erupts across his tongue is unlike anything he’s ever had before. It’s rich like fine red wine, but there’s something else too, dark notes of cherry and pomegranate- 
Suddenly, it feels like Wonwoo’s been roughly punched in the chest. It’s so startling that he pulls away from you, staggering back in confusion and releasing your wrists. Clearly you didn’t punch him, so what was that-
You take the moment of confusion to whip your blade out of your jacket, holding one hand to your bleeding neck while you defend yourself with the other. “Stay back!” 
But Wonwoo can’t stay back, not now that you’re more intriguing than ever.
He stands, licking his lips. He can still taste you on his tongue, and it’s practically intoxicating. 
Wonwoo’s eyes shift to the weapon you’re holding. It’s a black, triple bladed knife, used by vampire hunters and meant to emulate a stake. One good stab from that and there’s no stitching it up, he’d be scarred forever, even with vampiric healing abilities. And if you actually hit his heart? He’d simply be gone.
Maybe you have more bite than he’d given you credit for, but Wonwoo knows he can still best you in a fight, he’ll just have to be a little more careful.
“I swear to God-” you warn him, waving the blade.
“Darling, there’s no God here,” Wonwoo tells you simply, eyes assessing your every motion. It’s clear which side of your body you favour, and with one hand still pressed to your bleeding neck, he has an easy opening.
When Wonwoo moves to the left, you turn your body to follow, and that’s all he needs to abuse your weak point. With lightning fast speed, Wonwoo gives your abdomen a rough push, sending you careening back to the wall. There’s a harsh crack as your head hits brick, and you crumple to the ground, blade falling from your hand.
Maybe he’d pushed you too hard- he hadn’t been trying to- but he can still hear your faint breaths. You’re alive, and you might not be that way for long.
Wonwoo has never, in all his years of living, given another being his blood. He’s never wished to. But staring down at you now, that all changes. He can hear your pulse getting weaker-
The vampire falls to his knees next to you, grabbing you by the back of your neck and pulling you closer. He brings his other wrist to his mouth, biting deep before holding it over your parted lips. 
 Wonwoo watches the dark red substance speckle your tongue and he presses two fingers under your jaw, closing your mouth in the hopes it will help you swallow. His wrist wound is already healing, and soon, you’ll heal as well.
There’s no medicine in the world quite like vampire blood, especially the blood of one as old as he. Wonwoo knows this. However, there’s still something inside of him that begins to worry about you. It’s a foreign emotion, worry, one he’s not had to deal with in a while, especially not in regard to a human.
Wonwoo grabs your blade off the ground, tucking it into his belt, then he adjusts you in his arms. It’s easier to simply throw you over his shoulder, so that’s what he does, standing up and looking toward the mouth of the alleyway. He can’t risk any humans seeing this, so he pulls out his phone, calling Mingyu.
“Bring the car to the back of the club,” Wonwoo instructs, leaving no room for argument as he hangs up. 
Less than two minutes later, Mingyu’s familiar black jeep is rolling down the alleyway. The car comes to a stop and Mingyu exits it, staring at Wonwoo in shock. “What happened?”
“Vampire hunter,” Wonwoo says simply, opening the door to the back of the jeep to set you inside. 
“What are you going to do with her?” Mingyu asks, watching through the rearview mirror as Wonwoo gets in beside you.
The elder vampire is quiet for a long while. “I’m not sure.”
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Wonwoo is sitting in a chair near the bed, playing with your knife and watching over you diligently. It takes hours before you finally begin to stir. When you wake, you bolt upright, gasping. Your hand flies to your neck, but the wounds are already closed, your skin washed away of blood.
Your eyes find him next, and Wonwoo can’t help but be amused by the way you react, cowering away from him.
“So sleeping beauty finally wakes up,” Wonwoo muses, tossing the blade in his hand and catching it by the hilt.
You don’t say anything, but Wonwoo can see the cogs turning in your mind. “Why… why am I alive?”
“That’s a good question,” one he doesn’t know the answer to yet. 
“Am I a vampire?” 
Now Wonwoo is laughing. “No. Can you feel your heart racing? It’s a sign that you’re still human.”
You shift in his sheets. “What are you going to do to me?”
“I’m not sure yet,” he confesses. “First, I’d like some answers.”
“I’m not telling you anything.”
“Then I’ll tell you what I know,” he suggests. “This symbol on your blade, it’s a family crest. You belong to a line of vampire hunters.” You stay quiet, but to be fair, it hadn’t been a question, not really. “I recougnize this particular crest. It’s odd to see it again after so many years. I thought your line had been wiped out, but you’re still here, so I guess not.”
“Just kill me,” you state.
Your words cause an interesting feeling to bloom through Wonwoo’s chest again, and he cocks his head. “Is that really what you want?”
You bite your lip, then let out a heavy sigh. “No.”
The vampire stands from his chair. “At least I know why you were looking for Mister Sung now,” he says. “He killed your family, didn’t he?”
You stay quiet, but Wonwoo notes the small tremble that erupts through your form and it’s confirmation enough. 
“If it’s any consolation,” Wonwoo continues, “the vampire you’re looking for is dead. I killed him. Ten years ago.”
“He’s dead?” you ask, clearly shocked.
“It seems you’ve been running a fool's errand, darling,” Wonwoo clicks his tongue. “And you nearly died for it. I don’t think your parents would be too happy with you.”
It’s a low blow, and it causes a reaction. Your fists bunch in the sheets and your eyes narrow. “What do you know about my parents?” you spit. 
“I know they never got a chance to train you properly. I bet you’ve never even killed a vampire.”
Your shoulders slump ever so slightly and Wonwoo knows he’s hit the nail on the head.
“A vampire hunter with no kills under her belt,” Wonwoo laughs, “it’s cute you thought you could actually get me to be your first.”
“If you have everything figured out, what do you still need me for?”
“There’s still one thing I’m stuck on,” Wonwoo admits. “You did something to me, when I bit you. There was this… feeling, in my chest.”
“I didn’t do anything to you.”
He studies you for a moment. It’s true he hadn’t found any vampire repellents on you when he’d brought you back to his home. He’d kind of been hoping you’d tell him you’re a witch, and in a last ditch effort to get him away from you in the alley you’d used a spell of some sort. 
Wonwoo doesn’t want to consider the other possibility, he’s been refusing to even think about it, but now that the witch angle is off the table, the worst case scenario is at the forefront of his thoughts.
“I’ve got business to attend to,” he tells you simply, heading to the door. “You’ll be locked in this room until I figure out what I’m going to do with you.”
“And when will that be?!”
Wonwoo can hear the panic in your voice, and in some form he can sympathize with it. He’d been kept in a room for many years, under the command of a vampire sire he’d since revenged upon. “Not long,” Wonwoo promises, and it’s the most he can give you as reprieve before he shuts you into your fate.
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“What’s so important we couldn’t do this over the phone or at the club?” Jeonghan asks as Wonwoo pushes into his home. 
“Give me a minute,” Wonwoo says, double-checking his friend's apartment for any fang bunnies or other vampires who could take what he’s about to say and use it against him.
“You’re so paranoid,” Jeonghan rolls his eyes. “You wanted us to be alone, so we’re alone.”
Wonwoo turns to face the vampire in front of him. “Tell me about Luna.” 
“You-” Jeonghan falters. “You never want to hear about Luna.”
“But I do now,” Wonwoo insists. “Tell me.”
Jeonghan moves to sit on his couch, and Wonwoo can tell that the mere name of Jeonghan’s lost love is nearly too much for him to handle, even after so many years.
“What do you want to know?” Jeonghan asks finally.
“You said she was your soulmate.”
“And you called me crazy for it, everyone did.” Perhaps this is another reason it’s such a sore subject. 
“Not everyone,” Wonwoo points out. “Sung didn’t like it.” 
Jeonghan visibly flinches at the name of their old master, and it’s no wonder why. Sung had gone after anything his fledglings found beautiful, and much more. It’s one of the many reasons Wonwoo had found a way to kill him, ending their eternal torment… but he’d been too late to save Luna, and it’s something he’s always regretted. Jeonghan is a shell of who he was before, and deep in Wonwoo’s black twisted soul, he knows that the man he used to call one of his closest friends will never truly be whole again. 
“She was my soulmate,” Jeonghan says, but at this point, it almost sounds like he’s trying to convince himself of that fact.
“How did you know?” Wonwoo presses.
“It was a feeling, I can’t really explain it.”
“Try.” 
Jeonghan lets out a deep sigh. “There was something about Luna, I knew it the moment I first saw her. I couldn’t describe it, especially not to any other vampires. She wasn’t just prey, she was more than that.”
She was enough for Jeonghan to turn her into a vampire, intent on spending the rest of eternity with her, an eternity that never came, for one of them at least.
“The first time I tasted her,” Jeonghan runs a hand through his hair. “She was like citrus and sunshine, I’d never experienced anything like her.” This is far off from the red wine and pomegranates Wonwoo had tasted when he’d had you. “It was the oddest thing- there was this feeling, in my chest-”
“Like a punch,” Wonwoo suggests.
Jeonghan’s eyes shift to him, and then he nods. “Yeah, like a punch.”
Wonwoo almost feels sick. “I still don’t understand how this made you realize she was your soulmate.”
“I couldn’t hurt her,” Jeonghan explains, “even if I’d wanted to. And when I tasted her again, when she let me drink from her, I realized what the feeling in my chest was.”
“What was it?” 
Jeonghan studies Wonwoo. “It was my heart.”
“Your heart?” 
The long haired vampire nods. “An echo. A memory of the life I once had. Luna made my heart beat again, if only when I was with her. She made me soft, like I’d been when I was human, before Sung and the eternal night.”
Wonwoo sits on the couch across from Jeonghan, looking down at his hands.
This can’t be true. Wonwoo had never believed it before- but now, well, now he’s experienced it for himself. 
How can a vampire’s whole long life change in one chance meeting?
Except, it hadn’t been chance, not really. Sung had ruined your life as he’d ruined Wonwoo’s, and fate had inexplicably tied you together. 
He truly can’t believe it.
“Why do you want to know all of this?” Jeonghan asks.
Wonwoo almost doesn’t want to admit it, for Jeonghan’s sake as much as his own. So he lies. “No reason.”
Jeonghan leans back, crossing his arms over his chest. “Don’t tell me you’ve found your own soulmate.” When Wonwoo remains silent, Jeonghan lets out a small laugh. “I feel sorry for any human unlucky enough to be tied to you.”
“I do too,” Wonwoo sighs. His indifference - and sometimes hatred - towards humans is well known in the vampire circles Wonwoo is a part of. He’s generally cold, unfeeling, a true vampire, the way his master made him. In fact, out of all twelve of Wonwoo’s broodmates, he’s likely the most successful by Sung’s measurements. He’d surely been the most strategically blood thirsty, and it had cost their former master his life. 
“You won’t be able to kill her,” Jeonghan warns. “Won’t be able to run away. If you’ve tasted her blood, if you’ve felt your heart, it’s only a matter of time until you give in again.”
Wonwoo hates that this is true. You’ve been on his mind the entire time he’s been away from you, and it’s already driving him insane. He’s not used to thinking about another being for long periods of time, least of all a filthy little human who fancies herself a vampire hunter.
“You’ll end up turning her,” Jeonghan concludes. “It’s the only way. Humans are fragile, and I know how much you hate to see weakness.”
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You’ve been trying to find a way out of the bedroom for ages. There are no clocks, nothing to tell you what time it is, but you know dawn is coming, you can see it through the large windows that make up an entire wall of the room.
There’s safety in sunshine, and you’re extremely hopeful that it comes before Wonwoo does.
But your luck is not your own today, as you hear something outside the door just as the morning rays begin to creep through the glass. 
You make your way to the windows, pressing your body against them and waiting for the vampire to return. He takes his sweet time, and for that, you’re grateful. The room is half illuminated by the time Wonwoo opens the door, and he peers inside at you.
“What are you doing?” he asks, studying your seated form, back to the glass and morning sun.
“Protecting myself,” you fire back.
Wonwoo lets out a laugh, looking down where the sun reaches on the floor. Then, he steps into it. “Do you really think I’d have a room without tinted glass? The sunlight can’t touch me here. This is my safe haven, not yours.” 
Fuck.
“Have you decided what you’re going to do with me?” you ask, feeling defeated.
“I’ll let you know when I do,” Wonwoo responds smoothly, walking over to the closet. 
He’s left the door wide open, and you eye it, wondering if you can make your escape.
“Don’t even think about it,” the vampire warns. “You won’t get far. I’ve installed an extra lock on my front door too, so even if you make it there, you have no way out.”
“How many people have you killed here?”
“None.” Wonwoo is looking through his clothing casually, back to you. You’re not sure if you can believe him. “Go on, check the doors.”
You dart from the room, quickly getting your bearings in the small but luxurious apartment. When you make it to the front door, you find he’s not lying. There’s an extra deadbolt on it, and try as you might, you can’t get it open.
You move to the kitchen next, looking for knives of any kind- but there’s literally nothing to be found in any of the cabinets. You suppose a vampire has no use for utensils or food- 
Instead, you unplug a lamp, picking it up to use as a bludgeoning weapon if the need arises. You stare toward Wonwoo’s bedroom, and he crosses your line of sight. He’s shirtless now, a pair of sweatpants low on his hips.
The sight is gone far too soon, and you wait, frozen with your lamp. 
Wonwoo doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t come out of his room.
After a few minutes, you go to peek inside. The vampire is laying in his bed.
“What are you doing?”
“Trying to sleep,” he muses almost lazily. “It’s been a long night.”
You’d heard rumours about vampires needing sleep, but you hadn’t actually believed the tales. 
“What am I supposed to do now?” you ask.
“Get comfortable,” Wonwoo sighs. “You’re not going anywhere.” He opens his eyes when you stay standing in his doorway. “Put the lamp down.”
“No.”
The vampire lets out a laugh. “Suit yourself.”
“I’ll kill you in your sleep,” you warn him.
“No you won’t.” Wonwoo rolls onto his side, facing away from you. The covers are around his hips, and you get a good view of his excessively broad shoulders. His skin is perfect, not a blemish in sight, only muscles for days.
You lower the lamp a little. 
This man is crazy. Absolutely batshit insane. 
You watch the vampire as he drifts to sleep, and as soon as you feel you’ve waited a substantial amount of time, you begin to tiptoe to his closet. Your blade has to be somewhere.
You’re hyper aware of the fact that at any moment, Wonwoo could wake up. You keep your noise level to a minimum, rifling through his things. Finally, after what feels like forever, you feel the tip of your blade under your fingers as you look through a folded pile of hoodies. 
The twisted knife pulls out from the fabric and you have to fight the urge to cry out in happiness. When you look over your shoulder, you find the vampire still asleep. He’s on his back now, and it would be the perfect opportunity to stake him.
You’re aware that if you kill him, it will be much harder to leave the apartment, but you’re confident that if you bang on the front door long and loudly enough, someone will come save you. 
You begin to tiptoe toward the bed, adjusting your grip on the knife. 
If there’s one thing you can say about vampires in general, it’s that they’re beautiful. Wonwoo looks absolutely angelic, even while asleep. You falter at the edge of the mattress, simply watching him. If he hadn’t nearly killed you last night, you might hesitate longer, but the memory brings your drive back, and you hold the blade over his chest.
But your hands can’t bring it down. You can’t pierce his skin the way he’d pierced your neck just hours ago.
Come on, you think to yourself. Just stake him. 
Wonwoo’s eyes open, and he simply stares at you for a moment. Then he grabs your hand, disarming the blade and tugging you roughly, sending you toppling onto the mattress next to him. 
“Fuck!” you scream, kicking and trashing against the vice grip he has on your wrist.
Wonwoo lets you go. “I would have been disappointed if you didn’t try.”
“I hate you!” you yell, sitting up only to be tugged back down again.
“No, you don’t.” Wonwoo straddles you this time, grabbing both your wrists and pinning them above your head with one hand while the other continues to hold your family blade. 
“I do!”
“I killed the vampire you were hunting, something you would have never been able to do. Some part of you must be grateful for that at least,” Wonwoo points out. “I’ve saved you from becoming a killer. Trust me, it’s not a weight you’d be able to hold easily.”
His words make your skin cold, and you stop wiggling beneath him, staring up at the beautiful vampire.
“There we go,” Wonwoo says, tone almost soothing. “If you’re good and calm, I’ll give you some information. Although, you won’t like what you’re about to hear.”
“Have you decided to kill me yet?” 
Wonwoo quickly shakes his head, releasing your wrists so he can sit straighter, staring down at your form. “I’m not really sure how to tell you this.”
“Just spit it out!”
“Impatient little thing, aren’t you?” Wonwoo grins, tracing the tip of the blade across your collar bone and making you freeze. You’re breathing heavily, fighting every urge to try to push him off of you. “Fine, maybe I won’t tell you.”
He gets off of you, rolling onto his back again. He begins to play with the knife, gently tracing one of its edges.
“Tell me,” you press. “I’m being good.” 
Wonwoo laughs, and you hate how attracted you are to him when he smiles, his fangs all pointy and sharp. 
“Fate is like this blade,” he says finally.
“A killer?” you suggest after a moment of deliberation.
“Twisted,” Wonwoo corrects you. 
“Twisted how?”
“Sung. He ruined my life. Ruined yours. I killed him, thinking I knew everything there was to know, but there was still information he could have given me. Information that died with him, like the vampire hunter legacy that died with your parents. Now here we are, two remnants of the same past, our souls scarred, but entwined, twisted by fate.”
You’d definitely not pegged this vampire as a poet, but there’s something very genuine about the words leaving his pretty lips.
“What do you know of souls?” you ask, words dripping with vitriol. “You don’t have one.”
“It would appear I do,” Wonwoo muses. 
“Then what do you know about mine?” 
“Enough.” 
He’s told you something without telling you anything, and it’s infuriating.
“When I bit you, I felt something,” Wonwoo says quietly.
“Besides hunger?”
He grins at your sarcasm. “Yes, besides hunger.”
Wonwoo drags his finger across the blade again, but this time, it cuts him. You watch dark red blood bloom, and after a moment he brings it to his lips, licking it clean. By the time he pulls his hand away, you see the small cut has healed.
“When I bit you, my chest hurt.”
“What does that mean?” 
“I wasn’t sure at the time,” he admits. “But I know someone who’d felt something similar, so I went to talk to him. Do you want to know what he said?”
The anticipation is nearly killing you. “Yes.” 
“He revealed to me that amidst a world of vampires, witches and werewolves, there’s also such a thing as soulmates. And so, like this blade, fate is twisted.” 
You stare at the vampire, trying to process what he’s just said. 
But it doesn’t make sense to you.
“You can’t be saying that we’re soulmates-”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying.” Wonwoo shifts, holding the blade out to you. “Here, try to stake me again.”
After a moment of deliberation, you take the knife, lining it up with his throat. But try as you might, you can’t bring yourself to kill him, can’t even cut a tiny scratch against his perfect skin.
“This doesn’t prove anything,” you say finally, feeling completely defeated.
“Sure it doesn’t,” Wonwoo grins, but his smile tells you another story. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to go back to sleep. You’re free to join me if you want.”
You take the knife away from his neck, releasing a loud sigh. “Just don’t bite me.”
“No promises.” Wonwoo rolls on his side again, back to you. 
You hate how calm he’s being about all of this, but you suppose that’s what happens when you’re the one holding all the cards. 
You can’t hurt him, but you’re pretty sure he can still hurt you, if that bite from last night is anything to go on. 
It takes an hour of letting him rest before you finally place the knife on the floor, settling into the bed with a huff. Your mind is completely full, but you’re exhausted too. Sleep finds you soon thereafter. 
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You wake up cold, and it only takes a moment for you to realize why. There’s a vampire attached to your back, his chest pressed tightly to your form, skin like ice. 
You want to pull away, but you can’t. You’re stuck, trapped in his tight embrace. 
There has to be a way out of this, not only his arms but his apartment too. You’ll find a way, there has to be a way- 
With a few deep breaths, you’re finally able to get control of yourself, and you begin to shift away from Wonwoo- only for his grip to tighten on your body. 
“Where do you think you’re going?” he asks, voice groggy as if he’s just woken up.
“I have to get out of here,” you insist.
Wonwoo releases his hold on you, and you dart out of bed, looking around at the dark of the room. It’s evening already? How long did you sleep? When you look outside, you see the sun has set, the sky a hazy purple. 
“People will look for me,” you say, trying to reassure yourself.
“What people? Your family is dead.” 
He’s such an asshole. He can’t possibly be your soulmate, he can’t be-
You turn to look at Wonwoo, only to find him standing right in front of you. He’s so large, his chest perfectly muscled- and he’s staring at your neck.
“Don’t even think about it,” you warn, clapping both hands over your throat.
He laughs. “But I’m thirsty.”
“How very enticing,” you say sarcastically. 
“I’ve been thinking.”
“You have?” you act shocked, picking up your blade.
“Put that down,” he tells you. “I’ve been thinking about something my friend told me. He said I’d have to turn you eventually.”
“Now I’m definitely not putting this down!” You brandish the knife at him and it only makes his grin wider. 
“You’re cute,” the vampire muses. “I can’t let you leave here while you’re human. It’s a dangerous world out there. Turning you would give me… security.”
“I’d still run,” you insist.
“You wouldn’t be able to. Not if I told you that you can’t.”
“I’d still try-”
Wonwoo bats the blade out of your hand, grabbing your wrists to pin them to your front while he steps closer. “You’re not listening,” he tuts. “Fledgelings can’t disobey their masters, and if I turned you-”
“You’ll never be my master,” you spit. 
“You might not like me now, but you’ll get over it,” Wonwoo assures you. “I can’t say I’m particularly fond of the fragility of your human body. I can turn you and you’ll be much more powerful. You’ll stay beautiful and young, forever.”
Blood is thrumming through your body, and so is fear. Your pulse is practically racing as you stare up at the vampire who thinks you’re his soulmate. 
How can he be so sure of this?
In the dark recesses of your mind, there’s some pleasure in being wanted, maybe even needed- but you push the thought away, struggling in his grasp. “Don’t do this.”
Wonwoo doesn’t respond, he simply steps closer, causing you to move back until you’re pressed between him and the wall. He stares down at you, an intensity in his eyes. 
“I’m going to ask you something, and I’ll be able to tell if you’re lying, so be a good girl and try to be honest, okay?” 
“Screw you!”
He places both your wrists in one hand, bringing the other up to cup your cheek. “Would you hate me if I kissed you?”
“Yes!” 
“Lie,” he grins, leaning even closer. “Tell me you don’t want me to kiss you.”
“I don’t want you to kiss me.”
“Another lie. Your heart jumped just now. Whether you want to admit it to yourself or not, your body always tells the truth.” 
You’re speechless, staring up at him with wide eyes.
“I’m going to kiss you now,” the vampire warns you. “It will be better if you try to enjoy yourself.” 
He gives you a moment to respond, but you can’t. There’s nothing you can say as Wonwoo closes the distance between your lips. It’s a soft kiss, much softer than you’d ever expected from him. Your body reacts, eyes closing, and you find yourself kissing him back.
Wonwoo grins, releasing your wrists in favour of grabbing your hip, pressing you harder against the wall. His tongue glides against your bottom lip and you can’t help but open your mouth for him, fighting the moan that bubbles in your chest. 
There’s something about this that feels electric, and after a mini battle with yourself, you give into the experience. Your hands grab at his strong shoulders, nails digging into his flesh as you kiss him back with more vigour, opening your mouth for him.
Wonwoo lets out a growl, deep in his chest, and the sound turns you on more than you’ll ever admit. His hand is bruising on your hip now, groping at your skin and slipping under your shirt. You shift in his embrace, pulling him closer when you wrap your arms around the back of his neck.
His hand on your cheek moves down, gently latching around your throat. The motion makes you gasp, and Wonwoo pulls away from your lips, staring down at you. “Thirsty.”
“You fucker-”
“Thirsty,” he repeats, pressing you against the wall and tightening his grip on your neck. You watch him drag his tongue across his sharp fangs. “Just say yes,” the vampire whispers. It almost sounds like he’s begging. 
You’re at war with yourself. Your body is clearly reacting to Wonwoo, but your mind still isn’t there yet. It’s almost torture, pressed to the wall by a man with a perfect body and power that practically thrums off of him.
You find yourself giving a small nod. “Don’t hurt me,” you plead.
“Never,” he promises, kissing you softly one last time before he arches your jaw to the side. You grab at his shoulders, ready to dig your nails in when you feel his fangs- 
His lips press to your throat and a shiver runs through your body. His tongue tastes your skin, drawing a circle that has you nearly dying with anticipation. When the bite finally comes, it’s not painful or sharp, it feels something like a hickey, and then it begins to throb.
A gasp tumbles out of you, and you cling to Wonwoo’s broad shoulders, closing your eyes. The vampire releases a groan, reaching for your hand so he can intertwine your fingers, squeezing gently. 
You’ve never felt close to someone like this, and the realization has your head spinning… or maybe that’s the blood loss. 
“Wonwoo-” you whimper, starting to worry at how long he’s been sucking on your throat.
The throbbing stops, and you feel his tongue gliding over the bite mark, an attempt to soothe your skin. Then he’s pulling away, looking down at you as he licks his lips clean of your blood.
“Good girl,” he praises you, letting go of your hand. “Your turn.” You watch as he brings his thumb to his mouth, biting the tip before grabbing your jaw, pressing the digit into your mouth. “This will heal the mark,” Wonwoo explains, watching as you begin to suck on his thumb.
He doesn’t taste like blood. Instead, you’re reminded of strawberries and stone fruits. You swirl your tongue around his digit, sucking him deeper into your mouth-
“That’s it,” the vampire groans, slowly pulling his thumb from you. He drags it across your lip. “All better.”
When you touch your throat, you find only perfect skin. There’s nothing to suggest you’ve just been bitten by a vampire. 
“If it’s any consolation,” Wonwoo leans down, his lips ghosting over your own, “you taste delicious.”
“You-” you swallow thickly, “you do too.”
“Yeah?” He grins. 
You can only nod, leaning forward eagerly to capture him in a kiss again. 
You’re hungry for him, hungry in a way you’ve never been before, hungry for more.
Wonwoo gives into your needs, working his lips against yours harder while his hands find your hips again. Your own fingers trace his broad shoulders, dipping down to tease over his chest before finding his abs-
“That’s enough for tonight,” Wonwoo says suddenly, pulling away.
You realize you’d been about to grab his sweat pants, and you feel slightly embarrassed. You’re not sure what’s come over you-
“Sorry-”
“As much as I’d love to give you everything you want, as a human, I’d break you much too easily, darling.” 
Is he… is he going to withhold sex unless you become a vampire?
Jesus, are you actually considering this now?
What has this man done to you?
“I’m going out,” Wonwoo announces.
“Where?”
“The club. You were a tasty treat, but I’ll need more soon.”
For some reason, the thought of him biting anyone else makes you almost jealous. “Take me with you.”
“To the vampire club?” Wonwoo laughs as he heads to his closet. “No.”
“Please?” 
“No.”
“Why not?” you ask.
“It’s too dangerous.”
“What if I stick to your side all night?” 
He turns to look at you, cocking a brow. “Not thinking of running anymore?”
You shake your head quickly.
“Shame, a lie,” Wonwoo sighs. “But I guess… anywhere you go, I’ll find you.” He reaches out, wrapping his hands around your throat and pulling you closer. “You’re mine. If you run, the consequence will be a turning, does that sound fair?”
You feel like you’re gambling with fate, but you nod all the same.
“Say it,” the vampire tells you. 
“If… If I run, you can turn me.”
Wonwoo studies you for a moment, then he releases your throat. “Fine. You can come to the club. We’ll get you food along the way if you promise to be good.”
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Entering the club with Wonwoo is extremely different from entering alone. The bouncers seem to know the vampire with his hand firmly wrapped around your own, and although they give you odd looks, no one says anything.
The crowd parts for Wonwoo, and you feel eyes drilling into your form. 
It had taken months to track down this specific club, there are few vampire safe havens like this one, and people tend to keep their mouth shut about this sort of thing. Yet, within the location itself, everyone seems to know who’s vampire and who’s human. It’s an unspoken hierarchy, one you’re disturbing by being so close to Wonwoo while still owning a pulse.
Wonwoo leads you to the booth section you’d found him in last night. There are three vampires already sitting there, and they all stare as you approach. “Shouldn’t have brought you here,” Wonwoo sighs.
“Why not?”
“They’re never going to let me live this down,” he explains. “I’ve got a reputation to uphold.”
It’s an interesting notion, the idea that you’re bringing down this asshole vampire’s street cred. But at the same time, you didn’t force him to bring you here. You’ll never be able to force Wonwoo to do anything.
The vampire with the longest hair stands up from the booth as you approach, and you’re shocked when he smiles at you. “This must be her,” he says, holding out a hand. When you take it, instead of shaking, the beautiful man leans down to kiss your knuckles. 
“This is Jeonghan,” Wonwoo tells you.
You give the vampire your own name, and when you hear Wonwoo whispering it behind you, you realize he’s yet to learn it. Had you really gone this long without introducing yourself to him properly? Had you let him bite you, and kiss you, and call you good girl, all without knowing your name?
“You’re the vampire hunter,” comes the next voice, and the tallest vampire you’ve ever seen stands to tower over you. “I thought you’d be dead by now.”
“Mingyu,” Wonwoo warns, his hand moving to the small of your back in an almost protective gesture.
“Vampire hunter?” The third man cocks his head. “I see you’ve brought us a pretty little juice box.”
“Joshua,” now it’s Jeonghan’s turn to scold someone, and you realize through the long haired vampire’s behaviour that he must be the friend Wonwoo went to see about soulmates. There’s definitely a softness to him that the others don’t have, an understanding.
“Is she not dinner?” Joshua simply blinks in confusion, unable to see what he’s done wrong.
“A fang bunny then, not dinner,” the final vampire suggests.
“Excuse Soonyoung and Joshua,” Jeonghan sighs, addressing you again, “looks don’t account for manners. How about I take you down to the bar for a drink and Wonwoo can explain to our friends what’s going on,” he leans closer, lowering his voice, “Wonwoo’s never brought a girl home, I’m sure you can understand the surprise.”
You’d promised Wonwoo you’d stay by his side all night, and you can’t help but look at him for permission to leave with Jeonghan. Your vampire mate meets your gaze with a steady look, and he gives you a quick nod before turning to his friends again.
Jeonghan takes your hand, pulling you away from the table and back toward the bar. “You two look good together,” he muses. “Fragility looks nice next to Wonwoo’s controlled chaos, it’s a good balance.”
“What’s with you vampires and hating human fragility?” you ask.
“I can’t speak for all vampires, but I can tell you it’s a trait of our fledgling group. Our old master was… brutal, to say the least. It left its scars.” Jeonghan looks down, and you can see an unreadable emotion cross his face. But he’s forcing a smile a moment later. “It doesn’t matter, Sung is gone, we’re free now.”
So Wonwoo hadn’t only freed himself and you when he’d killed his maker. How many people had he saved? You’d seen the act as something of a bloodthirsty move of defiance, but you  hadn’t been aware of the domino effect of it all, hadn’t been aware that Sung had been cruel to humans and vampires alike, even his own spawn. 
The bartender comes over with two glasses of red wine, and you reach for yours, only to have Jeonghan’s cold fingers latch around your wrist. “Don’t drink that,” he warns you, eyes shifting to the human bartender. “She’s not a red wine lover.”
“I can drink this-”
Jeonghan leans closer, voice lowering. “It’s blood, darling.”
Your eyes dip to the glass of red liquid and you pull your hand away, swallowing thickly. Something tells you this blood wouldn’t taste like Wonwoo’s had, there’d be no strawberries and stone fruit, only harsh metalics. 
“What would you like to drink?” Jeonghan asks.
You give your order and the bartender scurries away. Jeonghan moves both glasses of blood in front of himself, lifting one to his lips. 
“Stupid humans,” he mutters, only realizing his mistake a moment later. “Not you of course, as Wonwoo’s soulmate, you’re an extension of us.”
It’s very odd to be accepted like this. You’ve never met any vampires like these ones, and they’re reshaping your view of things that go bump in the night.
Your gaze moves back to the table of vampires, and you’re shocked to find Wonwoo standing with a new person you’ve not yet met. They’re comparable in size, and from your distance, it almost looks like they’re arguing. Then you see Wonwoo motion, pointing toward the hallway that leads to the alley he’d taken you last night.
“Jeonghan?” You tap on the man’s arm. “Who’s that with Wonwoo?”
“Shit,” Jeonghan cusses. “He’s bad news.”
And here you’d thought Wonwoo was bad news, can this new man be even worse?
You watch the two heated vampires begin to head through the crowd, clearly intent on taking this outside. Mingyu, Joshua and Soonyoung watch from the booth, but they don’t make a move to follow. 
“Does- does Wonwoo need backup?” you ask.
Jeonghan considers it for a moment. “Doubtful. He’d probably be mad if we went out after him.”
As you watch Wonwoo disappear, your heart clenches in your chest. “I think we should follow.”
“He’s fine,” Jeonghan assures you.
“I don’t care.”
“Wonwoo wouldn’t want you there,” the vampire tries to convince you. “You’re fragile, human, it would only make things worse.”
“Screw that.”
“Your drink isn’t even here yet-”
But you’re already moving away from the bar, and Jeonghan scrambles to follow you, grabbing both glasses of wine. “This is a bad idea,” he insists, but you’re done listening to him. “Wonwoo can take care of himself.”
To be fair, that might be true. However, there’s a pull, deep in your chest. Something tells you Wonwoo will need you soon, although you’re not quite sure in what capacity. 
Your pace quickens as you head down the dark hallway, and you push open the exit door, quickly looking around. 
Wonwoo has the other vampire pressed to the brick wall behind the bar, and they’re grappling at each other, practically snarling. You have no clue who’s the aggressor, but you know who the winner will be, and you reach into your jacket for your blade.
“Wonwoo!” you scream, catching his attention for a moment, but it’s all you need to toss the weapon toward him. He catches it easily, driving the stake into the other man without a second thought.
A choked sound leaves you, and a hand covers your eyes. Jeonghan presses against your back, cradling you while you hear the sounds of your vampire mate eviscerating his opponent. 
Jeonghan turns you in his arms. “Don’t look,” he urges, removing his palm from your view. He’s still holding a wine glass, and you see the other sitting on the garbage can a few feet away. The sight of the blood makes your stomach churn. You try to take deep breaths to calm yourself, but it’s difficult in a situation like this.
Something moves in the periphery of your vision and you turn your head to see Wonwoo standing there, reaching for the wine glass. His skin is marred with red, his hair a tangle of curls. Your mate’s eyes are dark, and he closes them as he downs the red liquid, tossing the glass to the side when he’s through with it. The cup shatters across the alleyway. 
“Wonwoo-” you breathe, reaching for him, needing to check if he’s hurt.
“Why did you two come out here?” he asks, staring at Jeonghan.
“She insisted.”
Oh, to be thrown under the bus by a vampire.
Wonwoo cracks a grin, gaze shifting to you. “Brat.” 
“Killer,” you retort.
“He deserved it,” Wonwoo assures you, reaching out to grab you by the back of the neck, pulling you closer. 
He’s covered in blood and he looks like a sexy, wild monster. But he’s your monster, and you can’t help but react, leaning in-
“Jesus Christ,” you hear Jeonghan breathe, turning to give you and Wonwoo privacy while he presses his lips against yours hungrily.
At first, you can try to ignore the wet liquid on your fingertips as you grab at his strong shoulders, but you can’t ignore the taste on his tongue. Your body goes rigid and Wonwoo pulls back with a sigh, resting his forehead against yours. 
It’s an oddly peaceful moment amongst the chaos.
Wonwoo lets you go, turning to his friend. “Help me with the body,” he instructs.
“The club owner isn’t going to like this,” Jeonghan groans, although he does as he’s told, following Wonwoo toward the body crumpled by the wall.
The vampire has been practically torn to pieces- you shift your gaze again, wiping at your mouth just in case there’s any blood on your skin.
“I’ll explain what happened,” Wonwoo says. 
“Explain it to me then.”
You focus on the ground, not wanting to look as you hear the two vampires open a large dumpster. 
Wonwoo has lowered his voice to respond to his friend, but you hear the words soulmate and threatened. 
Had this killing been over you? The thought makes your stomach tie into knots again.
“You can’t bring her here again, not while she’s still human,” Jeonghan muses.
“You think I don’t know that?” Wonwoo snaps. “I didn’t even want to bring her today!”
“Then why did you?”
“It’s hard to say no to her, something you should understand. Can’t believe you let her come out here-”
“I didn’t let her do anything,” Jeonghan insists. “That soulmate of yours has a mind of her own. Besides, my hands were full.”
Your eyes shift to the glass of wine still sitting on a small trash can, and you move to retrieve it. 
“You’ll get this properly cleaned up, won’t you?” Wonwoo asks.
“Yeah, I got you,” Jeonghan sighs. “But you owe me one.”
“I’d expect nothing less.” 
You hear them walking over again, and you turn to face the approaching vampires, holding out the ‘wine’ for Jeonghan.
“Thank you, darling,” he offers you a smile, taking the glass. 
You can only nod, gaze shifting to Wonwoo, who still looks gorgeous even while covered in blood. 
He takes your hand gently. “Come on, brat, let’s get out of here.”
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Mingyu had come around with his car to take you home, helping avoid any uber drivers who would take one look at Wonwoo’s blood-speckled face and driven the other way. It had been a tense ten minutes, with hardly a word spoken.
Now, you’re in Wonwoo’s bathroom, helping him take off his shirt so you can wash him clean.
He watches as you ring out a warm soapy cloth, bunching it up and bringing it toward his shoulders first. It’s hard to focus with his intense gaze fixed on you, but you do your best, wiping away the blood from his throat.
“I have to turn you,” he says.
You sigh. “I know.”
“Are you upset with me?”
You shake your head, daring a look into his dark eyes. 
The vampire cocks his head, hands finding your hips while he leans back against the sink. “I’ll be gentle,” he promises. “One bite, I’ll nearly drain you, and on the cusp between life or death, I’ll give you my own blood. You’ll probably pass out, for a little while, and when you wake up, you’ll be like me.”
“Except you’ll be my master,” you point out, drawing the cloth across his bloody cheekbone. 
“I won’t abuse that power.”
For some reason, you believe him.
Silence fills the bathroom while you continue to clean him, but your mind is very much active. 
You’ve spent over ten years with one goal and one goal only, to avenge your parents. You’d been told it was a fool's errand, so you’d never quite planned for what came next. Part of you had always expected to die young- and if you’d been at the house instead of with a friend the day Sung had come for your family, you would have. 
The idea of living forever is a lot to grapple with, but Wonwoo’s the one that makes it possible.
He’d completed your life task, and now, he’s offering you a new path, one that’s rich with shadows, but also love. In a way, maybe you can’t ask for anything more than that.
“Do you think it will satisfy you?” you question. “Having me when you know I can’t refuse you?”
Wonwoo considers you for a moment, and his silence makes you anxious.
“I just mean…” you bite at your lip, cleaning the last speckle of blood from his skin before tossing the cloth down. “Wouldn’t it be better to have me for the first time while I’m still human? When you know I’m saying yes out of my own free will?”
“Darling,” his fingers dig into your hips, “are you asking me to fuck you?”
“I’m just- I know I want you, I think that much is obvious. I just think that if I wait to have you until after I’m a vampire, maybe there will always be a part of me that questions it. I want to experience you now, as I am, as a human.”
“It’s an interesting proposition,” Wonwoo admits.
“Just interesting?” you tease, wrapping your arms around his strong shoulders.
Wonwoo straightens. No longer leaning against the sink, he towers over you again, and it takes your anxieties away. 
“Is this really what you want?” he asks.
You take a deep breath and nod. 
“I’ll be as gentle as I know how,” he reaches out, brushing his fingers along your arm, “but I can’t make any promises.”
“It’s okay,” you assure him, tongue darting out to wet your lips. “I like rough.”
“Are you sure about that, pretty girl?” Wonwoo grins, grabbing your hips and tugging you closer. 
It feels amazing to be pressed against him now, your palms coming to rest on his broad chest. He’s so beautiful, you can hardly control yourself around him anymore. 
“I want you to ravage me,” you tell him. “And when we both finish, you can turn me. I think… I think I’m ready for my life with you. There’s nothing for me with the old one anyways, not anymore.” 
The vampire studies you, and you avert your gaze, only for his fingers to find the bottom of your chin. He tilts your head up so you’re forced to meet his eyes. “I’m going to take care of you,” Wonwoo whispers, and then he leans in to press his lips against yours.
You melt against his chest, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck. Your mouth parts much too easily for Wonwoo, and he drags his tongue along yours, earning a sigh of relief from deep within you. Your brain has been so full since seeing Wonwoo eviscerate that rival vampire, it’s good to be in your body now, mind going numb from your soulmate’s touch.
In one easy motion, Wonwoo turns you so you’re the one with your back to the sink. He bends down, tearing your pants off before grabbing your thighs and lifting you onto the counter, slotting between your legs while he kisses you harder. 
His hands find your shirt, and you break the kiss to tear it off, leaving you in your underwear. Wonwoo’s lips find your neck, and you tangle your fingers in his hair, groaning. You throw your head back, wrapping your legs tighter around his hips. “Bite me,” you urge him, missing the sensation.
The vampire grins against your throat, and you feel his fangs a moment later. He doesn’t tease you with kisses or licking this time, he simply sinks his teeth into you. The throbbing feeling courses through you and you gasp, digging your nails into his shoulders while Wonwoo drinks from you. 
You’ve never felt close to someone like this before. Wonwoo is grabbing your hips hard, leaning closer while he uses you for his own strength. He presses forward, allowing you to feel his cock growing in his jeans, denim catching against your panties. Then his hands slip behind you, and he undoes your bra, tearing it off. 
Your nipples pebble in the cool of the bathroom, and Wonwoo’s cold hands don’t help any as they move up to cup your breasts. Your soulmate pulls away from your throat, releasing a groan.
Warm blood begins to drip down your skin, he’d bitten you harder than last time. As the track of red makes it to your nipple, Wonwoo bends down, capturing the sensitive bud in his mouth and licking roughly. 
You whimper at the sensation, tangling your fingers in his hair as he drags his tongue up, collecting all the blood that’s just spilt from your neck. The vampire groans when he makes it to your bite mark, and he adjusts slightly, biting his thumb before pressing it into your mouth. “Need you healed or I might lose control,” he says, voice husky.
You can only suck in his digit, closing your eyes and enjoying the tingly feeling of your wound disappearing. 
Your soulmate pulls his hand from your mouth, bringing his newly spit-covered fingers to your panty-clad core. He applies a good amount of pressure to your clit and you cry out, grabbing at his jaw to bring his lips back to yours.
The vampire rubs you teasingly, working you up until you’re practically rutting against his hand. “Please,” you moan, feeling absolutely desperate now.
Wonwoo rewards you by pushing your panties to the side, sinking two fingers into your hot core while you groan into each other’s mouths. 
“Already so wet for me,” Wonwoo muses. “Is this how you always react to vampires, darling?”
You shake your head, whimpering as he strokes your inner walls expertly. “Just you,” you tell him.
Wonwoo lets out a growl. With his free hand he grabs your wrist, bringing your palm to his chest. “Can you feel what you’re doing to me?”
At first, you’re confused, but then you feel something, a rough thumping, as if his heart is clawing to get out of his ribcage. “I’m doing this to you?” you ask in wonder.
“And this,” he guides your hand down further, so you can feel how hard he is in his jeans now. 
“Fuck, you’re big-”
Wonwoo laughs, working his fingers into you even harder. “Think you’ll be able to make it fit?”
“Uh huh,” you nod eagerly. “We’ll make it fit.” 
His digits crook up, stroking a spot that has your thighs quivering around his hips. You squeeze his cock through his jeans, hoping to drive Wonwoo even a fraction as wild as he’s driving you.
Your soulmate lets out a satisfied groan, and the sound goes straight to your core, which squelches around his fingers. “I’m close,” you warn him, nearly panting now as the orgasm builds in the pit of your stomach.
“Yeah?” Wonwoo grinds his palm against your clit and you’re nearly seeing stars. 
You let go of his cock, needing to anchor yourself on his strong shoulders as he leans in to kiss your throat. He focuses on the spot he’d bitten, and even though it’s healed, you’re still sensitive there, sending throbbing tingles through your form.
“Fuck, Wonwoo-” You clench your eyes shut as you reach your high, your entire being now consumed with pleasure. You’ve never felt anything like this. It’s almost an out of body experience, your cries leaving your lips as you dig your nails into his shoulders, throbbing ceaselessly with ecstasy. 
“That’s it, pet,” Wonwoo coos, fingers continuing to abuse your hole even as your walls contract around him. “Who’s my good little human?”
“Me,” you whimper, threading your hand through his hair so you can keep him to your throat. You almost want to ask him to bite you again, but you hold yourself back, enjoying the last moments of your orgasm.
You finish with a gasp, breathing hard. 
Wonwoo takes his hand from your core, pulling away from your neck. He watches you with dark eyes as he brings his fingers to his lips, licking them clean. The vampire lets out a groan. “Everything about you tastes so fucking sweet, darling.”
God. You need him like you’ve never needed anyone in your whole life.
“Please,” you moan.
“Please, what?” he teases.
“Take me,” you whisper. “Make me yours.”
“Darling,” Wonwoo leans closer, his lips ghosting over your own, “I thought you’d never ask.”
He pulls you off the sink, tucking you close to his chest and carrying you back to the bedroom. The lights are off, and when he gently places you on the bed, his beautiful frame is illuminated from the glow of the bathroom. 
You can’t see his face, but you can see he’s smiling, and his fangs flash. His hands move to his belt and he undoes it. You bite at your lip, sitting up onto your elbows while you watch him. 
He pushes his pants down, and you can just make out the impressive size of his cock. “Wish I could see you,” you muse.
“I can see you,” he retorts. “When I turn you, you’ll be able to see in the dark too.”
“Are you really going to make me wait?”
“You won’t have to wait long,” Wonwoo reminds you. “You can be patient for this first time, can’t you, human? After tonight, we’ll have forever.”
You can’t even imagine what forever entails, and you distract yourself from it by pulling your panties down, tossing them to the floor. You spread your legs for the vampire at the foot of the bed and he releases a groan.
“You are beautiful,” he admits.
“Even for a human?”
“Even for a vampire hunter,” Wonwoo presses a knee to the bed.
“Thought you said I was a sorry excuse for a vampire hunter.” 
“I may have said something along those lines,” he grins.
“A vampire hunter with no kills under her belt-”
Wonwoo presses his hand to the bed next to your head, leaning over you while you wrap your legs around his hips. “Are you looking for an apology, darling?”
“It would help,” you sigh, enjoying the way he ruts his cock against your hot core.
“I’m sorry I called you a filthy little human who fancies herself a vampire hunter,” Wonwoo smirks, “I was having a bad day, and I misspoke… you’re a darling little human who’s about to become a vampire fucker.”
“Wonwoo-” you push at his chest, hating how harsh his words sound.
“You’re right,” your soulmate concedes, “you’re not a vampire fucker, I’m the one on top.”
“You’re horrible!” you screech, but at the same time, you’re giggling now.
“Tell me you love it,” he insists, leaning in to press his lips to your neck. “Tell me you don’t want me to fuck you stupid. That you don’t want me to sink my fangs into this pretty throat and make you mine, my eternal mate, untouchable to anyone but me.”
It does sound nice, and you shiver as Wonwoo presses his cold body down against yours.
“I’ll enjoy it once you’re turned,” Wonwoo breathes. “You won’t be able to be bratty with me. I’ll ask you what's on your mind and you’ll have to answer.”
“I’m just thinking how nice this is going to be,” you admit.
“Nice?” He laughs, pulling away to look down at you. 
“Obviously it will be a lot to figure out,” you back pedal slightly, “but… I don’t know, you really are my soulmate, and I know you’ll take care of me.”
The vampire simply blinks. 
“What?” you ask, cupping his face.
“This is the first time you’ve admitted it,” Wonwoo points out. 
“I wouldn’t let you bite me if you weren’t,” you remind him. “Wouldn’t let you fuck me-”
“I haven’t fucked you yet,” your soulmate grins, pushing his hips so his cock brushes by your clit as if to prove his point.
“And I’m devastated,” you say dramatically. “Please, Wonwoo- just fuck me!”
Wonwoo presses his lips to yours, and you love that he’s smiling into the kiss. You tangle your fingers in his hair, hooking your legs tighter around his hips. You’re still so wet from his fingers, and each small drag of his cock between your pussy lips feels like heaven. 
He’s such a tease, but you kind of love it.
The vampire adjusts slightly, reaching between your bodies, and then his cock slides into you. It’s just the head at first, but it’s enough to have you gasping and clawing at him. He thrusts shallowly, pushing deeper and deeper until his hips are flush to your own and every impressive inch of him is stretching you open.
“Fuck-” you whimper, toes curling from how full you feel.
Wonwoo collects one of your hands, linking your fingers and pressing it down against the pillow. “Are you sure you’re ready for this, my pretty human?”
“Uh huh,” you nod, swallowing thickly. “I told you,” you lean up, letting your lips ghost past his while you stare into his eyes, “ravage me.”
Your vampire lover groans, smashing his mouth to yours and squeezing your hand, then he begins to thrust into you and your mind goes completely blank. He fills you up perfectly- it’s like you were always meant to be full in this way. 
Now that you’ve tasted this, how can you ever get enough?
You can tell he’s holding back, can tell he’s still trying to be careful with your fragile form. You lock your legs tighter around his hips, a wordless encouragement to go harder. You wonder what it’s going to be like once you’re on his level, once you’re a vampire like him. If sex with him feels this good and he’s only at a fraction of his power, you bet undying fucking will kill you all over again.
Each snap of his hips presses his cock deep into your core, and your walls greedily eat him up. You’re moaning desperately against his mouth, squeezing his hand while tangling your fingers through his hair with the other. 
Wonwoo’s fangs drag by your lip, teasing you just enough to be on the verge of painful. 
You’re so lost in him you don’t even care, you bite him back, tugging on his curls and whimpering a sound of affirmation. This time, when his teeth make contact with your lip, it’s with enough force to pierce. 
Wonwoo groans immediately, suckling on your lower lip. It’s throbbing slightly, but unlike when he goes for your neck, his teeth aren’t still inside of you. He’s simply made a small incision, and now your vampire lover is making the most of it, kissing you so greedily that you can’t even taste the metallic proof of what he’s just done.
He simply can’t get enough of you, and you can’t get enough of him. You push on the hand capturing yours to the bed and Wonwoo relents, allowing you to grab at his shoulder while he fucks you harder, pressing you into the mattress.
With his fingers now free, he shoves them between your bodies, rubbing your clit and making your legs shake around his hips. 
With each lick and suck at your bleeding lip, he’s getting rougher with you. Your life’s blood is giving him strength, making him more feral, and you’re enjoying the show. 
Your pussy is throbbing again, just like your lip, and you know you’re achingly close to another orgasm. When has cumming ever been this easy? Wonwoo feels like a dream, or perhaps a nightmare, you’re still not sure.
“Close, darling?” Wonwoo asks, dragging his tongue across your teeth. You taste something on him, and realize he’s bitten himself, allowing his blood to heal your lip wound just as suddenly as it had been given. 
You nod, crying out as he rubs your clit harder. He stares down at you, in the dark there are angular shadows on his face, his pretty cheekbones all sharp-
“You look…” he licks his lips, “beautiful.”
“Wonwoo-” you whimper, body shuddering at the praise, your core twisting and aching as he continues to fuck into you wildly.
“That’s it,” the vampire coos, “cum on my cock, I need to feel you.”
You literally can’t help yourself. His voice is too sexy, his cock is too big, and you’re way too deep into the kinkiness of bloodsharing vampire sex to refuse any command he gives you. You let out a cry of ecstasy as your second orgasm of the night slams into you, ravaging your form and making you see stars.
Wonwoo buries his face against your neck, teasing you with his teeth and tounge while he fucks you through his high. With each second of overstimulated pleasure, you hang on the edge of anticipation, wondering if he’s about to bite you-
But he doesn’t. He simply works you through your orgasm until you’re a shaking mess.
You can feel tears in your eyes, but you’re not quite sure why they’re there.
When Wonwoo looks down at you again, he notices your tears, his brows furrowing. But he doesn’t question you on it, he simply brushes them away with his thumb while you shiver and recollect yourself after that mind numbing high.
You drag his face in for a kiss, pouring all your emotions into the merging of your lips. It must be clear to him that you’re okay, that you’re feeling just a little broken right now- but to be fair, you had asked him to ravage you.
There are underlying feelings being brought up, and in the periphery of your mind, you’re questioning your own mortality.
This is your last night on earth as a human, your last hour even- and although you know Wonwoo will take care of you, there’s something scary about it.
You’re diving into the deep, dark, unknown with your new soulmate, entrusting him as your guide after living an entire life without trusting anyone.
Trusting feels foreign to you, but you do trust Wonwoo, and that’s a scary thought in and of itself.
“Okay,” you say, swallowing thickly and letting out a shaky breath, “I’m ready for more.”
“I’d almost worried I’d broken you,” Wonwoo admits, pressing another soft kiss to your lips.
“It was a good broken,” you tell him, heart swelling in your chest at the fact that he’d been concerned for you. 
“And now my little human wants more,” Wonwoo muses. “You’re not as fragile as you look, are you, darling?”
You shake your head.
“Think you can get on your knees for me?” the vampire asks, pushing his body weight off of you.
“Uh huh,” you nod, whimpering a little at the loss of his cock from your core. You get into position, turning your back to him and adjusting on your knees, wiggling you ass gently to entice him.
“Pretty human,” Wonwoo breathes, hands ghosting down your sides before taking two fistfuls of your bum and squeezing. 
You feel his cock at your entrance again, and he pushes into you, making you both moan. In this position it almost feels like he hits deeper. You go fully doggy, resting your face against his pillows and arching your back.
“I’d tell you to be good for me, but I’m pretty sure I’ve fucked the brat out of you already. Isn’t that right, darling?” He lands a gentle smack to your ass that has you whimpering. 
He’s such a cocky asshole and it makes you groan. You can feel yourself throb around him at his words, betraying what you really think about the line he’s just used on you.
“That’s what I thought.” You can practically hear him grinning, and his hands move to your waist. His touch is almost bruising, but it feels so good as he begins to thrust into you again. Each movement has his hips hitting your ass, and the sound of sex fills the room.
You love the noises he’s making, soft, breathy groans, and deep rumbles that border on growls. There’s no time for talking anymore, your mind is much more preoccupied in the pleasure building within you both.
You’re still sensitive from two orgasms, so when you slip your hand under your body to rub your clit, your pussy immediately reacts. You clench tightly around Wonwoo, who lets out a moan at the sensation, fucking you even harder and faster.
Each thrust has you crying out now, whines of desperation slipping out of you while you rub your clit, eyes shut. 
Suddenly, Wonwoo is wrapping a hand around the front of your throat, pulling you up onto your knees with your back to his chest. His lips ghost by your ear. “So eager to cum again?” he asks.
You can only nod, grabbing at the forearm now pinned against your front while Wonwoo’s other hand tightens around your neck. He’s buried deep inside of you now, unmoving, and you’ve never felt this full.
“You know what happens when you cum, don’t you, darling?” 
“I-” You’re so delirious from his cock you can’t even think.
“‘When we cum, you can turn me,’ that’s what you said, wasn’t it, pet?” Wonwoo lets out a chuckle. “Are you really that eager? Or just a little dim with my cock buried so deep in this perfect pussy of yours?”
“I remember,” you gasp, head beginning to swim with how hard he’s gripping your throat.
“So you are eager,” the vampire confirms. “That’s cute.” 
He lets go of you, pushing you down to the bed. His hand finds the back of your neck and he holds your face down, grabbing your hip with the other. “I guess you can cum as fast as you want, little pet. I’d be happy to taste you again.”
You’re gasping against the pillow, enjoying how rough he’s being with you now. There’s something about having his hand on your neck, keeping you down while he begins to fuck into you again. 
“Are you close?” you ask, enjoying the groans leaving his own lips.
Wonwoo laughs. “When you cum, I cum.”
“Lucky me,” you whisper, reaching for your clit again. Your pussy pulses with ecstasy as you begin to rub the sensitive nub, your eyes closing from the pleasure. 
“Naughty human,” Wonwoo states, but there’s something like pride in his tone. “I guess I haven’t fucked the brat out of you just yet.”
“You love that I’m a brat,” you insist. “It gives you something you want to control, and we both know how much you like control.”
Wonwoo’s thrusts falter ever so slightly. “I didn’t realize you knew me so well, little soulmate.”
“I do,” you groan. “Just like I know that if I start begging, you’ll really lose your head.”
Wonwoo lets out a laugh, and you see it as a challenge.
“Please,” you whimper, rubbing your clit harder and cutting off your soulmate’s laugh. “Please, Wonwoo, I’m so close-”
The vampire behind you lets out a growl, fucking you faster. His grip on your neck pushes you down against the bed more, but it does nothing to muffle the begging that’s beginning to tumble past your lips.
“Want you to fill me up. Want you to make me see stars. Want you to bite me like only you can-”
“Fuck-” Wonwoo groans.
Suddenly he’s letting go of your neck and flipping you over. You’re not on your back for even a moment before he’s pushing into your core again, his lips eager against your own. His tongue invades your mouth, shutting up your begging while you tangle your fingers through his hair.
One of his hands is planted on the pillow next to you, and the other is on your hip, digging into your skin while he fucks you so hard the bed shakes.
“Please,” you whimper, so close to the edge you can almost taste it again.
Wonwoo’s mouth moves to your throat and your entire body tenses with anticipation, teetering on the edge of pleasure that you know is going to be nothing like anything you’ve ever experienced before.
You drag your fingers against his scalp, panting hard. “Bite me,” you beg. “Bite me, please- I’ll cum so hard if you just bite me-”
The vampire lets out a primal groan, and then his teeth are sinking into your flesh. The throbbing sensation erupts through your entire body, going straight to your core, which clenches desperately around Wonwoo’s cock. 
A strangled cry leaves your lips as your orgasm overtakes you. Your grip tightens in Wonwoo’s hair, holding him to your throat as you ascend to a height of pleasure that has you weak all over- 
From the noises leaving your soulmate, you know he’s just cum too, and the thought makes your body tingle as he drinks steadily from your neck. 
His thrusts begin to slow, but the speed to which he’s devouring you remains a constant. Suddenly, you realize that there’s no coming back from cloud 9, you’re simply floating- floating, floating, with only his hair as your anchor, but soon, you begin to lose your grip on even that.
Your throat is really pulsing now, but it’s getting noticeably weaker, and the heat of the bite is dying down. Maybe it’s not the only thing dying, you realize, with your eyes closed and your lids too heavy to lift.
Something presses to your lips, filling your mouth with a familiar flavour. 
Strawberries and stone fruits.
You do your best to swallow, but it’s kind of difficult. You’re so tired, so very tired-
“Drink up, darling,” Wonwoo says. His voice feels far away. “Come back to me. I’m not done with you yet.”
Part of you wishes you could simply drift off, but your soulmate's words are enticing. You push yourself to do as he says, drinking the sweet nectar and regaining your strength, drawing you back to him. 
When you’re finally able to open your eyes, Wonwoo isn’t on top of you anymore. He’s laying in bed next to you, watching. 
You roll onto your side, mirroring him. “Did I pass out?”
“I warned you that might happen,” he reminds you, reaching out to push a strand of hair away from your face. 
His touch sends sparks through your body and you lick your lips, feeling pulled to the man in front of you. That’s when you realize, the lights are still off, but you can see Wonwoo perfectly. “I’m like you now,” you whisper.
“You’re like me,” Wonwoo agrees. “Do you have any regrets?”
“No,” you shake your head. “Do you?”
He’s quiet for a moment. “Just one.”
“Yeah?” You shift closer, palms flattening against his cold chest. 
“After you passed out, I realized there’s one thing I never said to you while you were human, not in so many words, at least.” 
“It’s not like you’ve known me long,” you try to assure him.
“That doesn’t matter,” Wonwoo insists. “I still should have said it. Like you wanting to experience me while still human, I should have said it while you still had a heart that beats.”
“I hate to break it to you, mister vampire,” you grin, taking his hand and pressing it to your chest, “but my dead heart is beating for you the same way yours beats for me. Just say it now.”
Wonwoo takes his hand from your chest, reaching up to cup your cheek. “I love you, even though I thought I’d never love anyone. I thought I’d be alone forever, but now… here you are. And I… I love you.” 
You grin at your vampire mate, adoring how vulnerable he’s being with you. “I also thought I’d be alone forever,” you admit. “Thought I’d die young and bloody, which, I guess is kind of true, but you’ve given me something new, something I could have never imagined, and I can’t wait to explore this second life with you. I love you too, Wonwoo, as crazy as it sounds.”
Wonwoo grins, and you return the expression. His thumb moves up to drag past your teeth. “The fangs suit you, my love,” he muses.
The petname makes you smile wider, shifting closer and wrapping your leg around his hip, mounting the pretty vampire. “Hungry,” you whisper, leaning down to press your lips to his neck.
“We’ll have to go get you some food.”
“Not for that,” you laugh, licking his throat. “For you.”
“Are you sure you’re strong enough, darling?” Wonwoo asks. “You’ve just been turned, maybe you should rest-”
“I’ve got strength enough to have you again, that is… if you have the energy, my big, scary, vampire master.”
Now it’s his turn to moan at the new petname, even if it is said slightly in jest.
“Still a brat,” Wonwoo muses, fingers skimming down your sides. 
“You’ll be entertained forever,” you insist.
“And what if master tells you to be a good girl and keep your pretty mouth shut?”
You laugh. “Then you’d miss me after a minute and ask me to start begging again.”
Wonwoo sighs in defeat, then he’s rolling the two of you so you’re on your back, pressed between him and the mattress. “I guess we might as well start your new life off with a bang, shouldn’t we, my love?”
“I’d be mad if we didn’t,” you admit.
Wonwoo only laughs, pressing his lips to yours. You might have forever with him, but right now, you’re as eager and needy as you’ve ever been, and he doesn’t mind catering to you, not one bit. 
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☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! Vampire Wonwoo just bites different- I know I say that about every new fic but for real, I'd initially planned on this being a more slow burn but Soulmate sexy vampire asshole Wonwoo? as if we all wouldn't be climbing that man like a tree
🍭 support me by. sending a tip here or here - or become a patron to access monthly bonus content and extensions for fics like this one :) find the Patreon teaser below! 
🔮 preview. “Tell me what you want.” You kind of hate it when he uses his vampire master abilities on you, but at the same time, it allows you to dish out your darkest fantasies with no fear of disapproval. “I want you to make me cum so hard I can’t even think.”
cw/ tw. Oral (f receiving), blood play/vampiric drinking from each other, biting, roughhousing, fingering, orgasm control, orgasm denial, dacryphilia, overstim, man handling, pinning, unprotected sex, dirty talk, praise, size kink, soft dom wonwoo, mentions of wandering eyes, multiple reader orgasms, thigh grinding, hair pulling, etc… I pet names: (hers) brat, darling.
👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2.8k I teaser wc. 300
🌙 staring. Wonwoo x afab!reader
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bonus
“Bratty baby is at it again,” Jeonghan says fondly, watching you saunter away from the table with Mingyu toward the bar. “Serves you right for staring at that juice box.”
“You’re not going to take my side on this one?” Wonwoo laughs, amused at the night's turn of events.
“Not a chance,” the long-haired vampire grins. “I don’t know why you’d even need to look at any of these fang bunnies with a soulmate like her.”
Wonwoo sighs, knowing his friend is right. He still can’t help but defend himself. “A man gets thirsty.”
“That’s what this is for,” Jeonghan retorts, swirling the liquid in his wine glass. “You gave up fang bunnies and juice boxes the moment you met your soulmate, and we both know it.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Wonwoo shakes his head, eyes shifting to you again. He supposes it’s only fair that you get to flirt with the bartender after he’d just been caught looking at a scantily clad woman, but the fairness of the situation does little to lessen the fire building inside of him.
You should know by now that he only has eyes for you… even if his gaze wanders from time to time. He can’t help his predatory instincts, although, he should get more of a manage on them. In fact, he should stop bringing you to vampire bars altogether, but it’s difficult to resist a night out amongst his brood mates. 
“We all know this is a kink of theirs,” Joshua muses. “They fight a little, piss each other off, and then they fuck in the back of Mingyu’s car while he drives them home like a chauffeur.”
“That’s only happened twice,” Wonwoo insists.
Joshua scoffs loudly. “Mingyu had to implement a no fucking in his jeep policy, it definitely happened more than twice.”
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amisunderstoodgoddess · 3 months
Text
Hunt - final
(part one here)
Summary: He kidnapped you. He believes you are his mate. Can you find some kind of peace with the monster who took you away from everything you know?
Rated: M (EXPLICIT +18)
Author's note: If you haven't read the first part, I STRONGLY advise you to do it so you can better understand the story. Anyway, thank you for everyone's patience for this second part. It was a busy few months, but I finally managed to finish it.
I apologize especially for not responding to the comments, I really haven't had the time lately. But I appreciate each and every one of them, thank you so much for that babes!!
ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE.
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A gentle, icy breeze passes by you and you feel yourself shiver. A smell reminiscent of antiseptics and sterilized products fills your nostrils and, as you begin to become more aware of your surroundings, you feel the smooth, cold and hard surface beneath you. You try to open your eyes, but your eyelids are so heavy; your entire body feels heavy, weighing over a ton as you try and fail to move.
You can hear a soft, clean hum in the background, like new, well-oiled machines at work, but when you finally open your eyes, you see nothing but a blur of white just above your body, an uncomfortable glow of almost blinding light. You grunt and blink a few times, trying to move again and managing to dig your fingers into the smooth surface beneath you.
It's then that the memories come rushing back.
Your heart pounds with the memories and you try to stand up with a surge of vigor that wasn't there before, but your body simply won't obey.
How long have you been blacked out? Are you still on Earth? Or had that alien really taken you to space? Why can't you move?
When a deep rumble fills the air, your hair stands on end all over your body. Slowly, the blinding blur of white light is eclipsed by the outline of a giant looming above you with a cold, impassive metal mask. Your heart jumps in your chest and you immediately want to cry. Whether from the effect of sedation or the sheer wave of terror that wracks your body, all you can do is whimper a “please” before your mind wanders into darkness again.
------
The next time you wake up, you are no longer lying on the cold stretcher. Instead, there's a subtle smell of wet earth filling your nostrils, as well as the pleasant feeling of soft fur wrapping your body. You're warm, cozy really, even if you still feel heavy and very disoriented.
You try to move and, with some effort, you manage to remove your arm from the furs that wrap around it. You struggle to open your eyes, blinking away the confusing fog in your mind, and see an infinite amount of furs around you. You squint your eyes and slowly sit up. Your head is spinning, your neck is tight and sore, and you reach for where the alien had injected whatever infernal compound to knock you out like that. Your skin hurts like an old bruise, but there's nothing more to it than that. You can barely find the tiny needle prick.
It's dark wherever you are, except for soft yellow lighting coming from a corner of the room, and you inspect the furs you're wrapped in. The hairs are of medium length but dense, effectively warming without being irritating to the skin; the furs were clearly expertly carved. You had been kidnapped and imprisoned by a skilled hunter and it was obvious. With a little deeper perception you blush and shiver when you feel the soft furs are in direct contact with your skin. Your skin very bare.
The air hisses with every breath you take now, but the new burn of tears helps clear your vision. Looking around as the room comes into focus, turning to look at whatever it was you were lying on. And if you thought you would be able to see something even slightly recognizable, you were sadly mistaken.
Nothing is familiar.
You are lying in what appears to be a giant nest. It's a kind of huge platform, a few inches above the ground, lined with fluffy, cozy fur.
The environment is a little dark, preventing you from really being able to discern the details, but the walls seem to be made of some kind of dark metal and, in one of them, where there is a focus of yellowish light, you can make out the shape of a pressurized door - the bathroom maybe?
Sitting up a little better, you twist the soft fur between your fingers, a way of trying to distract yourself. Your eyes darting around the corners of the room, mapping everything you could see. That's when you see the two glowing eyes peering at you from across the room, in the shadows. Two orange flames fixed on you for God knows how long. You take a deep breath as you throw yourself back, heart racing in your chest.
Crawling through the nest of furs, you try to scream, but no sound can escape your lips. You try to stand and still keep the covering around your body, but you can only kneel on the bed, fumbling with the furs, your heart in your ears, and you're about to get out of the strange nest any way you can when someone grabs your arm and stops you. The giant alien stands before you now, silhouetted dark against the yellowish light behind him — but his eyes appear luminous as they look at you.
He's standing on the floor and you're kneeling on the tall bed made for creatures larger than you, and yet he towers like a mountain over your small body. You can barely breathe; the creature's huge, deadly clawed hand wraps around your arm like it's just a fragile twig, and for a second you think this is it – this is the moment you would lose your life. But the alien, now without his mask, just looks at you and lets out a low, guttural growl from between his scary jaws. After a few moments that feel like an eternity, he effortlessly pulls you closer to him.
“I-I,” you sigh as you try to stay in the same position. You try to fight him, but he doesn't even seem to notice your efforts. "Please please!" You don't know what exactly you are begging for. But you're not stupid, the unfamiliarity around you could only mean that he had actually kidnapped you. You're on his ship. And if you're on an alien's ship, outside of Earth, completely defenseless and alone, it's because there's no way out.
The creature throws you onto the furs and gives you an icy glowering look before crouching on the ground next to your body, all the while looking at you.
You struggle to breathe. He pulled and pushed you as if you weighed absolutely nothing, showing incontrovertible evidence that he would have no problem dominating you.
He watches you intensely as he has since the first time, tilting his head slightly with obvious curiosity, his dreadlocks falling as they follow the movement. The way he sits is so human, so familiar; his arms rest on his knees, his muscular shoulders are comfortably angled and his legs are bent and wide apart. Although he appears almost relaxed, his gaze is penetrating and dangerous.
You make yourself small - which already seems obvious with the way he towers over you even though he's crouched on the ground - alarmed at what might be stirring in the large creature's mind. You had been chosen by him — at least that's what he told you. A mate. Would he force you? Had he been waiting for this moment since the first time he saw you in the lab? And why did that thought make you feel strangely flushed?
He, on the other hand, doesn't seem prepared for an attack. He just sits there, watching you like you're the most interesting thing he's ever seen.
You wrap your arms around your knees while keeping the furs around your shoulders to hide your body. Running would be fruitless, you know that, and you'd rather not trigger anything primal in the Predator, like acting like prey. It would be the worst move, actually. Instead, you bury your face in your arms and wait.
The alien is silent as night, and for a moment you hear nothing but your own ragged breathing and the soft hum of the ship. When you look shyly from beneath your lashes at him again, he’s still watching you. There's a disturbing intensity in his eyes that makes you beyond nervous, but there's no malice there. Not that you can tell. It's just some kind of undeniable dominance, like he knows you're so far beneath him, that he could do literally anything to you without worrying about your resistance to it. And yet he is there, still waiting.
The…creature, doesn’t blink as he slightly parts his jaws and his head tilts towards you, curiously. "Are you afraid?"
Once again you are startled to hear his translated voice resonating right inside your ear, in the walls of your skull. A low sound. A coarse sound. A curious growl that grazed your bones as if the sky itself was growling at you.
“H-uh.” You're not sure if 'afraid' is a strong enough definition for what you're feeling. Looking at the dark, burly figure that seemingly can't get enough of watching you from the dark recesses of his room fills you with a kind of nervous, suffocating anxiety that makes it difficult for you to breathe. You almost wonder if you're about to pass out. “I…I wouldn’t say afraid.” You lie through your teeth and then, for lack of anything else to say and because you're desperate to understand exactly what the hell you're doing here, you say, "Do you have a name?"
The predator tilts his body a little more towards you. You lean back nervously, because this isn't what you wanted to happen, but he moves slowly and cautiously and pauses just the tiniest distance from you. “Doh’kein.”
He waits, as if waiting for you to say something, announce yourself, say anything.
"Do...D-Dou...kai?" You repeat with difficulty, trying hard to at least try to please this creature and stay on his good side.
He snorts between his jaws and something in the way his broad shoulders vibrate and his flaming eyes shine tells you the sound is something like laughter, fun and guttural; and you imagined the joy of a mountain.
"Doh'kein." He repeats, slower this time, looking expectantly at you.
"Huh - Doh'kein?" You try one more time.
The alien in front of you purrs in approval when you repeat his name almost perfectly, leaning down and burying his face in the crook of your neck. You startle and scream, trying to pull away, but a large hand wraps around your arm and holds you still. His deadly jaws slide along your skin and you arch your neck just to avoid being hooked by one of those things, but unfortunately he takes your gesture as an invitation to continue.
"Y-You've never spoken before. In the lab."
You stutter, trying to start a talk to keep him distracted from what seemed like the end goal of all this.
“That wouldn’t be logical,” he mutters. Against all logic, you exhale shakily as you feel one of his sharp fangs slide gently past your ear, pressing what could be a kiss to the shell. "It's not like all of their primitive ears could understand me if I tried."
The baritone of his voice murmured so close to your ear sends shivers down your spine and you find yourself clenching your thighs. Doh'kein braces himself with both arms in the nest, on either side of your hips, eclipsing your small body with his until he is all there is - until he is all you see.
You argue futilely in an attempt to maintain self-control - his and yours: “W-we could have talked sooner.”
“We could. But then other oomans would know this part of me,” he answers clearly. "Do you wish this had happened?"
You are extremely embarrassed by the immediate ‘no’ that almost rolls off the tip of your tongue. Despite all your fears, you find yourself almost jealous when you imagine this alien being like this with other people. You bite your lip and let your silence answer for you. There is no doubt that this is a disservice to your team and the research being carried out – you seek truths and yet the truth is that you are secretly happy that this is yours and yours alone.
Even if you have difficulty accepting it.
Doh'kein snorts. He brings his broad forehead to your smaller one and your knees reflexively part to make room for him as he settles between them, still kneeling on the floor. The shine in his eyes dimmed. Reminds you of a pyre after the fire has burned for hours at a time; the glowing ash left to cool overnight.
“If I hadn't participated and let them do the tests on me, you wouldn't have paid attention,” he continues. You shiver when he places a hand on your thigh, the grip is careful but it makes you shiver nonetheless. The size of his body forces your legs wider around his waist, to the point where your joints hurt. But he doesn't move, he just waits while the gears in your head turn.
“You...” you gasp as it hits you. “You could have left whenever you wanted.”
He slowly studies you at your words and tilts his head, motioning for you to continue. There is an unshakable composure about him that makes you uneasy. You get the feeling he knows your thoughts before you express them.
“You stayed and cooperated with the research. Even when…even when some of those people treated you like an animal. You could be anywhere but there. You could have stopped that at any time. But you waited."
Doh'kein once again snaps his jaws and snorts his equivalent of a laugh. The sound soon turned into a buzzing noise. He places a large hand on top of your head and leans back into your space, uncomfortably close, as if he wants to impress the answer inside you. “That was exactly where I was supposed to be at that moment. You are my mate."
That word, again.
Silence stretches after that and your skin crawls under the intense scrutiny, a fixed, unforgiving gaze on you. Your mouth is dry, your heart is racing with proximity, your hands, slightly sweaty with tension, are curled into tight fists in the fur around your body. It's not the place or time for it, but slowly you feel the fear turn to...intrigue, despite yourself.
Your captor doesn't seem like the talkative type, but every word that leaves his alien mouth seems to be charged with the purest electricity. That, combined with the intensity of his gaze, was making you tense and coerced — like a little rabbit caught in some trap. And yet, some kind of curiosity was forming in the back of your mind.
You had never experienced anything like it. No one had ever looked at you like that. Bright orange orbs on a completely inhuman face exuding a sense of devotion and hunger that you were unaware of until this moment. It's disturbing and frightening at its majority essence - it's also curiously flattering on the other hand.
A silent chirp pulls you from your thoughts. He must sense your latent anxiety, because the alien pushes you gently (much more gently than you'd imagine for someone his size) against the nest of soft fur and you sink down with a shuddering sigh and a racing heart. His scent envelops you; rain, earth and tall grass.
“Doh’kein,” you falter. “W-why do you keep calling me that? How can you be sure I'm the one you want as a mate? I'm just a human."
You only mention the issue of the difference between species, your overloaded brain can barely think about the challenges of the physical logistics of the act.
“I see that,” he states dryly, as if the fact that you put yourself down irritates him. “But you are mine, little ooman. My mate. And that's not open for debate."
As he covers your body like a mountain of solid muscle, you press the soft fur over you to hide as much of your modesty as possible. Doh'kein doesn't seem to like this very much. Without the slightest warning, the tip of his thumb slides across your knuckles - still stubbornly attached to the covering of fur - and your mouth goes slack at the difference in textures of his scaly skin on your soft flesh. He places one knee on the nest of furs and leans above you, lowering his head so his dreads fall around both of you and obscure his hungry expression. You feel the ghost of his long, sharp claws prickling your skin as his dexterous fingers explore the details of your comically small hand, swirling tantalizing patterns in your own hidden blood beneath before intertwining your fingers with his and freeing your nails sunk into the blanket of furs.
His touch is deliberately gentle as he guides your hands splayed above your head, but his gaze tells another story; firm, fixed and heavy in his message - a warning. It awakens the most basic survival instinct rooted in your genetic code, it raises the hair on your body, it accelerates your heart, it leaves your lips dry with fear.
And it makes the heat spread between your legs.
There is no logical explanation for this reaction of your body. But in the end, it doesn't matter. For whatever had been, or whatever might have been, was completely ripped from your mind at the very moment you heard the thunderous sound resonate in his broad chest.
That purr again.
A rhythmic trembling that seems to rise from the depths of him and take root directly in your very being. So mesmerizing and effective that it makes you forget the dangers of those deadly jaws when he brings his face closer to yours, sliding his long fangs across the softness of your cheeks. You part your lips in an attempt to breathe better, you ball your hands into tight fists on the furs - obediently keeping them where he left them.
As if that wasn't disturbing enough, something different catches you seconds later. Not a hand, not anything tangible, but something entirely invisible.
The invisible thread of a scent.
The scent curls around you before you even knew it was there, without any chance to stop it, to escape its grasp. And suddenly you're tangled; tangled up because of him, this strange alien, even though he does nothing but keep his giant hands splayed in the fur around your body to support his own weight - which, of course, would be more than capable of easily crushing you if he didn't do it, looking at you with a focused and intense gaze. At the same time, you are captive to his warm musk, in a way that only someone like you, so disastrously unlucky, could have been. And before you know it, you're looking at him, not in surprise or disbelief, but in a spellbound trance. Trapped by a breath of rain-damp wood, of a sweetness like slippery stone and the flames of a bonfire on a cloudy day. It's welcoming, it's inviting.
It's impossible to contain the way your eyelids immediately become lethargic and your senses clouded at the first sign of his musk permeating the air. The creature's scent is as overpowering as the first time; it invades your nostrils, thick and heavy, unable to ignore it.
Suddenly you can't speak.
The smell makes you feel a rush of intense, unreal attraction. By an alien. Your hands twitch above your head, and you bite your trembling lower lip. As you do, you watch with hooded gaze the way Doh'kein's sun-colored eyes trace your actions.
“You feel it too, don't you?” he asks in a throaty sound, doing his best to break through the confusing haze of your thoughts.
You can't answer. You don't know the answer. You think you might be whining.
The predator also hears your embarrassing whine, of course. His head tilts slightly and the small thorns on his heavy eyebrows fall darkly over his eyes. You watch as his slick, plum-colored tongue comes out of his strange mouth, stretching beyond what any tongue should be able to, until it leaves a warm, wide trail of saliva on your cheek. And although you shouldn't really enjoy it, you found that you couldn't help but sigh in pleasure at the animalistic act and squirm beneath him.
What's happening to me? You think through the immensity of confusing static in your mind.
You're not squirming to get away.
The subtle but restless movement of your hips has nothing to do with it, really.
You don't run away when he reaches out with a giant hand to cup your chin, guiding your eyes closer to his in a trance that seems endless. To force your gaze on his primal possession. Though his spectral touch penetrated you; leaving a shiver behind him that tickled your chin and cheek in an effervescent shudder.
He doesn't need to force you into anything. His presence is magnetic to you, and yet you can't tear yourself away from his enormous intensity. You can't help hold his gaze. And you see his brow furrowed above you, sink into those serious eyes that map your every expression closely, ignore the danger of his deadly fangs so close to your face.
You stay silent as you watch him. Hostage of unsaid things. Of things without explanation. You just accept it when your skin tingles with a million little feathers of anticipation, with an urgency to be touched that becomes more and more overwhelming the longer he stays near you.
In a pull that was nothing short of urgent, he pushes away the fur that was on your body. You cry out, a little startled by the sudden action, shivering when his jaws buries itself in your hair to breathe, hot and heavy against the back of your neck. Then, resting a large, clawed hand on your shoulder blades, he begins to descend your body, each growling breath coming faster as he descends.
Doh'kein growls and the sound comes from somewhere deep in his body, untamed and wild and eager. Inhaling you deeply, as if he was smelling fine wine. That burgundy tongue appears again, sliding down your neck. You feel his hand on your waist trail down the soft expanse of your belly. You shudder at his demanding touch, your body responding naturally to his touch. Electricity sizzles through your veins. He pulls you towards him, sharp claws running down your back and around your side to caress the lower curve of your breast. The subtle scratch of his claws only adding intensity to the sensations.
Your chest tightens and your face feels hot. Maybe it's the fear, the confusion that goes through your mind or it's all the fault of that addictive scent emanating from him, but your body pulses. Every bit of you feels so alive that it practically vibrates with energy. What if this was all a hallucination? What if you were at home, lying in your comfortable bed, lost in an intense dream rich in details? Maybe-
Wild claws graze the skin on the sides of your breasts, leaving goosebumps and tearing a cry from your lips.
You had never felt like this, like your belly was warm and lit, full of fireflies.
What is this, anyway?
You look up with misty eyes, finding intense swirling golden pools. As mesmerizing as before. Warm breath blowing across your flushed cheeks. Spice and heat filling your nose.
It's like looking at the sun; the blinding rays of light so powerful, burning their pattern into your eyes.
You snap back to reality and immediately notice your two hands gripping his broad obsidian shoulders, the muscles beneath the scaly surface so powerful you can practically feel the raw strength of them beneath your fingers. You had advanced towards him until your nipples were brushing dangerously against his very, very muscular chest. Your core vibrating with a pulse you wanted so badly to ignore. You blush and pull your hand back, but you can't pull it away completely as his arms cage your body.
He pulls you by your hair and pushes you deeper into the warm furs of the nest, pressing his body against you like he knows you're silently yearning. He’s solid, huge. Terrifying. You tremble in his grip and let out a cry of surprise when he thrusts his hips against you. The hard, thing writhes with every pulse, precariously restrained by that Tarzan loincloth around his wide hips, pressing into your belly like it's trying to find a home in the soft hollow below your ribs. Even without actually feeling it skin to skin, the pure sensation of the heavy member against your belly leaves no place for doubt about its size. Not that it's a surprise, considering the alien's corporeal mass - but the very solid, very long weight of his penis against you like this is still capable of eliciting a loud gasp from your throat.
Your reaction seems to amuse the giant, who grunts and snaps something between his jaws in your mouth that you're sure sounds a lot like laughter, grinding against you until the air is forced from your lungs and the only thing you can think deliriously is that it will kill you; that he's about to rip your insides out and maybe even scalp you, considering the firm grip he still has on your hair, the way his claws rake your scalp.
Two things become clear to you then:
1) you are not as scared as you should be about such possibilities.
2) the time for patience and gentle touches has obviously come to an end.
His eyes slowly - very slowly - leave your face and slide in an intimate caress up your bare torso, lingering on your pert breasts, and he widens his jaws in an elongated trill. You don't need a translation to know he's satisfied. He's hungry, orange orbs overflowing with an obvious need that he makes no bones about keeping hidden.
But, unlike the course of action you expected, Doh'kein steps away and steps out of the nest, standing back on his feet. Surprised, you sit up and just look at him, cheeks flushed and hair disheveled from the previous rough treatment.
The giant alien in front of you waits a few seconds until he is absolutely sure he has your full attention. And then, in an unexpected gesture, he rolls his powerful shoulders a few times, lifting his body and adjusting his posture until he's at his fullest (which makes him even more intimidating, if that's possible), emitting a sound that you I hadn't heard it until now. It looked like a puff from a big bear, but longer and stronger, more proud. It's almost like a growl, but not as aggressive as the ones you've heard from him before. The whole thing confuses you, but only for a moment. You part your lips in surprise when you quickly understand his intention.
It's some kind of mating dance. An assertion of dominance and a call to mate. Just like an alpha male would do.
The sound continues rolling between his jaws and echoing between the walls of the room in his ship, crackling like the other sounds coming from him, but more thunderous. He rolls his shoulders once again, clenching his fists and showing how strong he is. You really didn't need a reminder of the fact. But you can't deny that the soft yellow ambient light dancing across his broad torso, showing off his rippling muscles as he purposely moves in such a way as to highlight them, is absolutely breathtaking - in a way that frightens you a little; he is clearly showing you that he will be a good mate.
His eyes as hot as flames are fixed on you with a gaze that burns mercilessly through you. His jaws flare once more, he bares his inner fangs in a growl, and the bangs and clicks grow louder. The sound vibrates through you, and his scent fills the chamber even more. Despite the undeniable fear, your heart races in response, your belly churns, and the slick between your legs betrays you once again as your pussy pulses to be filled.
It's then that you notice the bulge that was poking you a few minutes ago. You can't look away, and in the middle of his seductive vocalization, he lets out another laugh. His sharp claws undo the knots and clasps that keep the loincloth secured around his hips, and you swallow hard, bringing your knees closer to your chest. He lets the fabric fall to the floor, and your mouth falls open as the alien's cock immediately rises against his belly.
It was a monster in its own right, just as you imagined - and yet...no, it's nothing like you imagined. Long and sturdy. Ridges resembling little barbs line the entire length of the underside of the biggest penis you've ever laid eyes on in your fucking life. The color doesn't differ much from the rest of him - the same shade of gray that spreads across his torso and belly also extends along his massive length, up to a bulbous head that gradually changes to an almost purplish color, an imposing scrotum hanging below. Prominent veins cover the shaft and make his penis look even scarier. The entire length, but especially the head, glistening with what appears to be some kind of natural lubrication, alarmingly highlighting those sharp-looking bulges on the underside of his penis. The mere idea of him taking you with that thing makes you visibly shake with anxiety.
“Y/n.” Your name in his growling voice makes you snap out of the daze you were in and you look into his eyes, scared and pathetically excited, blushing at the nothing short of smug expression on his inhuman face. There is no denying that his tactics are having an effect on you. You know he knows you would submit to him like pitiful prey.
Regardless of your newly awakened desires, the powerful claim in his courtship ritual and his intimidating girth, to say the least, frighten you and, instinctively, you try to step back as he places one knee on the furs again. Doh'kein, however, is faster and all you can do is whimper helplessly as he grabs your ankle and stops your escape. The ends of his dreadlocks slide down the softness of your bare torso as he mounts you once more, caging your small body beneath him.
A deep, low rumble escapes him and you catch a glimpse of that long tongue once again as he tilts his head suggestively.
He's smelling your excitement. You know he is.
His huge hands wrap around your thighs with comical ease as he spreads your legs wide apart, exposing you to him without an ounce of reserve. You hide your face in your hands and sob an embarrassed cry as Doh'kein tastes your scent in the air, feels your heat and wetness on his reptilian tongue without even needing to touch you. You bite your lip and swallow a moan, feeling embarrassment burn through every pore, as well as arousal.
“Y/n,” he repeats, and you try and fail to hide the tremor in your body at the sound of his voice vibrating the walls of your mind. You will never get used to it. Doh'kein spreads your legs further apart, exposing you even more to him, and then he presses that word, as if he wants to imprint it into your flesh through pure repetition. "Mate".
A hand holding your thigh releases it and slides down. Your breath catches as he runs over your inner thigh, dragging his claws across your soft skin with the intimacy and experience a years-old lover would have, before reaching your core to cup your intimacy. You gasp and jump out of bed and his hand tightens, grabs you. Pussy, pubic bone, all together, all right there, in Doh'kein's abnormally large palm.
He looks between your legs. Really look.
Orange pools absorbing like osmosis the image of your little pussy caged between his ridiculously thick and long fingers. He doesn't move. He doesn't speak. He just stands there, holding your most intimate part as if it were a fragile toy. It's not the first time you've been intimate with someone, although it is, in fact, the first time with someone...less than human. But even so, you've never been looked at with so much desire and possession. The attention makes you move timidly to try and cover yourself, but Doh'kein clearly doesn't like it as he abruptly lifts his face to you and growls an unspoken threat - once again grabbing your wrists with his free hand and pinning them above your head. You whimper and squirm against his hold, but you're no match for the creature's brute strength.
Doh'kein presses a considerable amount of force against the nest, a firm and unquestionable warning, before slowly releasing them. When you don't move in retaliation, he purrs in satisfaction and focuses once again on your intimacy. He looks at the place with hungry curiosity before gently twitching his fingers, giving you an experimental squeeze that encompassed absolutely every outer area of your pussy and more.
You whimper and Doh'kein's gaze is drawn to yours. He watches your face intently for a reaction as he slowly drags his thumb over the sensitive, needy bud that is currently your clit, and your breath hitches when you bite your lip - you don't know if it was a conscious movement or just a exploratory attempt, but the action electrifies your body with a pure jolt of pleasure. His dreads jiggle and his jaws twitch as he purrs with delight, and unexpectedly, he leans toward your neglected breast, letting that plum-colored tongue lather your nipple with his heated saliva, wrapping the forked muscle around it.
His rough tongue wraps around your sensitive bud once, twice, three times, making you shudder and gasp as his rumbling purrs vibrate through his chest in response. You squirm in his nest, your head thrashing as he bounces between each breast, sliding that tongue over every inch of your sensitive skin, the scratch of his sharp jaws scraping your soft flesh only fueling the fire that roars loudly inside you. His thumb slides once again across your clit (gliding easily with all the wetness you're shamefully producing) in a slow, deliberate circle that makes you sure the action is purposeful.
Slowly, Doh'kein retracts his tongue back into his sharp-toothed mouth, hearing you moan louder with each slow turn of his thumb, shaky mewls escaping your lips and you blush as you notice how arrogant he sounds with irrefutable certainty that you're enjoying this.
The alien seems strangely familiar with human anatomy and carefully caresses the edge of your canal before rupturing it with an intimidating finger. You cry and immediately tighten your pussy around his finger, fighting against the girth that, alone, is bigger than anything you've taken inside you recently. But Doh'kein is not discouraged. He pushes his finger inside you, sinking it deep with the confidence of a man with a purpose. His claw scraped almost uncomfortably against your inner walls, sending small, sharp flashes of pain through you with each movement, but even that was tiny when compared to the magnitude of pleasure you felt.
The place fills with the sound of your breathless pants, your fragile mewls and the sound of your pussy being fucked by that finger.
The predator grunts deeply as he explores you, thrusting his finger in and out of you in slow but deep movements, and when he feels satisfied with one, he begins to insert another.
“N-no!” You gasp and instinctively grab his wrist to try stop him. Your eyes are teary and you look at him while shaking your head. “Please, I c-can't, I can't take another-”
His face turns, slowly. The frown is almost cruel as he looks at your small fingers gripping his wrist, then looks straight into your eyes. You let go of his arm as if you had burned your hand.
"Yes you can." That's all he says, looking into your eyes. That's all he thinks you need to hear, apparently. His thumb poking your clit one more time to make you jump from the sensation. You sob, lost between the intense waves of pleasure and panic, and the giant clicks his jaw before returning with his exploration.
You cry out at the burning sensation of pain as he pushes in his other finger, stretching you further than you've ever been stretched before. The sharp pain quickly mixes (mercifully) with your excessive excitement as the creature quickens his pace.
"That's better. Good girl, just relax,” he praises you. His thumb keeps rotating and tapping against your clit, effectively distracting you from the pain, his fingers reaching deep, and his claws lightly scratching your insides. The mortifying sounds of your abundant wetness echo louder and louder between the walls of the room, along with your sobs, screams and moans. "That's it, little ooman. Come on, cum for me." Doh'kein mumbles into your eardrums through the translator, leaning up until his dreadlocks are falling like a curtain around your face, hiding you from the rest of the world.
A hand sinks into the softness of the nest, right next to your face, long claws digging hard into the furs, to the point where you hear them tearing — a form of restraint, maybe? You can't think about it too much, though. Heat pools in your belly abruptly, your vagina tightens with burning pain; your insides aching with pleasure and your chest tightening before everything explodes in a devastating orgasm. You scream, your pussy clenching around his invading fingers, and you close your eyes so tight you see stars shining in the darkness of your eyelids.
You can't breathe; you really try to breathe through it, but nothing comes, there's just your lips parted in a silent scream - your body too tense, too tense, as the orgasm washes over you with the force of a tidal wave. Your pussy cries, flooding his hand and sucking him at the same time. Goosebumps run through your body, muscles twitch, sweat slightly erupts from your pores, and when you finally come down, your body feels indulgent and soft. When he pulls his fingers out of you with a wet snap, you gape, hating the void he's left.
He's an alien, you repeat weakly in the confusing haze of your mind, a creature that coerced you and took you away from your planet without your permission. What you are experiencing are just pleasure hormones. Nothing more or less than a hormonal combination of serotonin, endorphins, dopamine and oxytocin. They are truly responsible for the feeling of well-being, reduced stress and the relaxation that seems to wash over your body at the moment. Doh'kein is not a god, he is not a god. No matter how much your body disagrees with that right now.
Doh'kein purrs as he slowly strokes the aching, swollen flesh of your sex; he opens you with his wide fingers, slowly and gently, grunting in contentment as he sees how your little hole continues to contract sporadically. He moves his fingers over your sensitive clit and teases it before returning to your folds.
It's just pleasure hormones, you repeat over and over again as you feel his digits probing every inch of your abused pussy, as if he can't get enough of touching you. You still whimper with every breath and can barely lift your arms, much less fight against him as he takes his time inspecting your hole and all the wetness that gushes from there. Your body was still affected on some level by the sedative he had given you earlier and, now, by the powerful orgasm that brutally ripped through your insides. All you want is to snuggle into those soft furs and sleep.
Doh'kein, however, would not allow this.
You mewl a little when he grabs you by the waist and turns you onto your stomach in one fluid movement. You feel like putty; choosing to just give in and let him mold you however he wants - even if, miraculously, you had some strength to fight him, it's obvious that you wouldn't be able to. He adjusts you on your knees, spreading your legs wide as he does so. The explicit position embarrasses you, but you do nothing but gasp as your face is buried in the bed and your ass lifted into the air.
He positions himself behind you. His large body shadowing yours, his hand sliding almost reverently down the sharp curve of your spine until he cups a plump globe of your buttock between his fingers in a firm grip. You blush and bite your lip as you feel a hot, heavy, wet shaft fall into the crack of your ass. He gently slides there a few times, grinding against you as he continues squeezing your flesh, lifting and lowering your ass by the length of his cock.
"I've wanted you every moment since I found you. Every day smelling you, but not being able to act, was torture. Being patient has never been more difficult for me than in those days." He confides in that baritone voice, threading his other hand into the strands of your hair, gently digging his claws into your scalp and pulling to force you to arch your back more. You groan at the sensation, your hips beginning to mimic the movements of his, sliding your ass cheeks onto his dick yourself. "But the wait was worth it. It's time for me to fill you, it's time for me to finally make you mine. My mate." He finishes whispering in your brain, the little chip in your skin working quickly to translate the growled words and clicks of his jaws. His words, his smell, his movements...everything is pushing you into another spiral of pleasure.
Too weak to object, you just shiver as the extraterrestrial creature aligns his monstrous cock with your newly stretched pussy, his fat tip coated with that natural lubricant poking at your wet entrance. He firmly grips your hips and, with one determined thrust, sits inside you.
...
That's it.
There is no slow entry or split stretch.
He just pushes and goes in.
You scream.
It's very big. You feel like you're being torn apart, split in two, stabbed from the inside, and you desperately grab the fur beneath you to crawl away from the burning pain, but Doh'kein's grip on your hip keeps you in a steel prison. Maybe he thought about it and decided that it would be easier if he came in at once instead of prolonging the torture - and maybe later, when you had a clear head and thought about it, you agree that this was actually the best choice. But all you know now is pain. You scream as he leaves; each little barb protruding from the underside of his menacing cock abusing your inner walls, vibrating your overstimulated clit and sending stabs of pain throughout your entire being. When he plunges into you again, he goes even deeper, slamming hard against your cervix, bruising it.
Tears flood your eyes instantly and you sob into the fur, clutching the covers so tightly that your knuckles ache and turn white. Your body shakes with pain and shock, and you can feel you soaking the furs with your tears and saliva as you cry, softly begging him to stop.
Surprisingly, upon hearing your whimpers, he stays still for a moment, buried deep inside you. Desperately trying to accommodate him, your walls contract repeatedly and grip his shaft, and beneath the blinding pain, there is a surprisingly pleasurable sensation of being completely filled, completely stretched. Full of him.
The predator is grumbling behind your back. Elongated grunts and sporadic snorts. Like a poorly restrained animal. The grip of his fingers on your hip is painful and you can feel the tips of his claws bruising your skin. You'd have marks after this, you think. Bloody cuts and purple bruises as the price for getting involved with something (someone) your human body should theoretically be incapable of handling. If you survived, of course.
"You're so...tight, pauk, I never imagined...paya, your h'dui'se is addictive-" Your translator seems to have some difficulty with some of his words and you blink, confused, but at the same time overwhelmed with all these sensations. By God, he looks positively wrecked - barely clinging to the limits of self-control.
And then, apparently having resigned himself to the fact that he was going to lose this battle, Doh'kein thrusts again, his balls slapping against your wetness and your clit. At that moment, you knew that the devastating and unreal pleasure you felt was, most likely, the result of your brain; like a desperate attempt to deal with the pain of this unnatural mating – because honestly, nothing should feel this painfully good.
“You look so good, my little human.” Growling, he pressed his claws into your skin a little tighter and this time you were absolutely sure there was a cut and blood. “Don’t fight me.”
“Ooh, God,” you whimper as his cock continues to defy the limits of your human capacity. It’s too big, too weird, and you can literally feel how your walls try to reject it.
Doh'kein flattens a giant hand across your back, pressing your body further against the nest of soft fur. “Easy now, mate. You can take me." He pushes deeper. “You see? I'm completely inside you. You feel me? Do you feel like my cock gives you no choice? It shouldn't be there, should it? Oh no, it shouldn't. It's wrong, isn't it? But isn’t it just as good?”
God. He suddenly becomes talkative, the small chip implanted in your skin working quickly to translate the rude words that clack through his jaws.
“Y-yeah,” you cry, though. Because, yes, it's good in fact.
“And it's about to feel even better." He grabs you by the hips and pushes you hard. He fucks you repeatedly, and it's painful, very painful, but it only fuels you pleasure. Another thrust, and this time he forces a broken moan from your depths. Your wetness soaks his waist, your pussy clenches around him with torturous eagerness, and the predator on your back sets a relentless pace. You gasp a strangled mewl and shake, clutching the furs beside your head for dear life, trying to keep yourself as stable as possible with each brutal jolt of his body against yours. There is no romance or soft touches from a gentle lover. He's fucking you. Claiming your body in an undeniable act of animalistic possession. A true predator in heat.
There is no mercy. He abuses you with his monstrous strength, with his unparalleled stamina, and takes everything from you – your dignity, your free will, and any future hope of finding a human who can match him; in the vague and foolish hope in the possibility that you would return to Earth. His claws dig into your hips, every breath he takes is a cruel growl, and you express out loud your pain and your pleasure in equal measure.
Each little pliable barb at the base of his penis rubs fiercely and repeatedly against your tight inner walls, reaching spots inside you you didn't even know existed. Despite the tension and pain, the warmth grows and blooms like a beautiful flower in your womb again. You mewl and whine, feeling the building release tighten in your core; you needed little to fall off that precipice of ecstasy again. But Doh'kein grunts deeply, calms the fierce thrusts in your pussy and slowly pulls out of your body.
“N-no, wait, please-” you breathe desperately, pushing your hips back to maintain contact with him. Desperation taking over your body as the tendrils of ecstasy slip like sand through your fingers.
The creature deeply rumbles what you know to be a laugh (a laugh at your expense, much to your embarrassment) and parts your ass cheeks, exposing your wet, swollen folds, the cruel pulsing of your pussy around nothing. You don't know why he stopped - since he's obviously been craving this even more than you, but he's taking his sweet time now, widening your hole and digging those claws into your skin possessively - and you feel an embarrassing need of screaming at the top of your lungs for him to just go back to fucking you in that ridiculously comfortable nest.
"Do you like that, pet..." He growls and it's a statement, not a question. He knows you like it. Your body is making it obvious. You blush and try to pull yourself up onto your shaking elbows, but Doh'kein is faster. In an almost savage movement, he wraps his long fingers around the back of your neck and pushes your head down, making you scream with your cheek pressed firmly against the furs of the nest.
He places his other hand next to your head and lowers himself until he is hovering a few centimeters from your body; big, wide, powerful - it makes you feel like a little Eskimo inside an igloo. You can feel his alien jaws ruffling the strands of your hair, you can feel the strange tubes of his dreadlocks tickling your back, and you can especially feel the possessive, territorial way in which he holds you still as he press you by the back of your neck. There's not much you can do but give in, soften your body against his grip and submit to this creature that is obviously countless times stronger than you.
His broad chest pushes against your back as he makes the rumbling, crackling sound again, a more aggressive (though definitely satisfied) purr, and your nostrils are filled with his earthy scent. It fills the back of your throat, your lungs, your mind, your body, and makes you ache even more for him. You let out a breathless moan and writhe on the bed, pressing the fur tightly between your fingers and begging for him as you arch your spine and displays your intimacy to him. Your pussy cries, desperately searching for the cock that dominated you just moments ago.
"My name." Your body is a trembling, pulsing line of nerves and you barely hear the command whispered in your ear. Everything in your line of vision (already hampered by the way your hair is wildly loose) is blurry and confused and you try to swim out of the sea of pleasure you're drowning in, in the smell of earth and rain and an undeniably masculine musk that is threatening to dull your senses once again.
"What--"
"Say my name."
Your eyes widen and you almost choke on the word before it finally escapes your lips.
"D-Doh'kein."
He smiles, huffs his strange laugh into your hair, pushing that scary member between your ass cheeks to reward you - sliding it up and down once, just teasing your pussy every now and then until you're squirming.
Only then does he say. "Beg."
His claws are ghosts of danger on the sensitive skin of your throat, in spots that could quickly and easily end your life. And you know he could, without any effort, hurt you and draw blood - just as he did the battered flesh of your hips. But he doesn't. And that alone, the control and dominance that exude from the male behind you, makes your head spin and your pussy tighten until it hurts.
“Please…please – I just, I need this, please…” You mumble, only half coherent.
He held your ass firmly, spreading you wide, before pressing his swollen tip against your entrance. You choke and bite your lip, but even all the need and heat coursing through your veins isn't enough to drown out the scream that explodes from you as he plunges back into your pussy with a roar. The stretch takes you to the limit you were teetering on just moments ago and your body falls apart, happy to seize the opportunity it had been denied before. You tighten around him, holding him with all your might; your whole body twitching, but Doh'kein doesn't seem to care as he pounds into you with relentless thrusts, grunts rising from within him like thunder sounding in the sky. You scream again, your vision blurs and your torturous pleasure echoes wildly between the walls of the room on this alien ship. Your hard nipples rub against the fur of the bed as they grind incessantly to his strong thrusts, and the monstrous cock continues to rearrange your insides; the ridges of his length torment you, drive you crazy, and prolong your release until you're nothing but a wet, quivering mess.
He leans over you again; and you cry as you feel the wetness of his growling saliva run down your exposed shoulder, hot and slick, the black tubes moving like a curtain around both of you, and he grips the back of your neck tighter as he begins to pound into you violently - frantically.
He is an animal and there is no other definition that fits what is happening.
You make a sound like a sob. There are tears on your face, hot and salty against your skin. You can no longer tell where you begins and ends, only that you are fused with Doh'kein. His hips on your ass, his cock on your cervix, which he abuses with each brutal thrust. You can't say who you are or remember why you're here, but you can tell he's close.
“I need to breed you,” he growls into the side of your face, pressing you into the nest almost angrily, “I don’t know if it’s possible, but I can’t think of anything other than filling and breeding you for the rest of my life – I need this – I need to try, right now, every day–”
“I want it, I want – I want it,” you babble incoherently through the saliva that’s pooled in your mouth, all sense of self-preservation going out the window as your senses are dulled, “I want you to breed me, I want it, please!" The fact that probably nothing could be generated from an alien/human union seemed to be irrelevant to both.
You just accept it all, happy to be used as he fucks and bites you with those strange jaws and desperately chases his own release.
Doh'kein growls and hits you one last time. His cock grows and swells and feels like it definitely shouldn't fit, like there shouldn't be enough place inside you to accommodate it - but you moan, pussy stretching like it was made to envelop him, and then he's basically locked inside you. You float, only vaguely aware of him pressing you into the nest as he collapses some of his colossal weight onto you, because all you can think about is his roars, the hot cum filling you in thick bursts, plugged inside you by his inhuman cock. He grinds his hips into your ass, pushing his cum deeper and deeper, but the amount is so great that it inevitably escapes where your bodies are joined.
You feel soft and fuzzy, stuck in that satisfied, complacent head space. You writhe with aftershocks and warm goosebumps that bubble up your entire body, from your scalp to your toes. Even though every inch of your body hurts and you know there are cuts and bruises on your flesh, you've never felt as full as you do in this moment.
Time passes between deep, panting breaths and consciousness returns in fragments; first, the intense, aching pulse between your legs, where Doh'kein is lodged deep inside you. Secondly, his weight on your back is practically knocking the air out of your lungs. Third, you are sweaty and sticky and bleeding in places.
You shift instinctively, trying to lift one leg, and he growls at you. His cock tugs at your insides in a way that isn't pleasant and you freeze at the sharp stab of pain. Your body finally feeling the effects of the extraterrestrial union. You moan at the sensation, but it comes out more as a wheeze since your lungs can't fully expand under his weight. “Y-you're crushing me, Doh'kein. I need to breathe, please-”
This catches the attention of the giant behind you and he rolls to the side, the feeling of his cock slipping out and letting more of that sticky fluid escape from your used pussy draws a low mewl from your throat. You have two seconds to inflate your chest for oxygen before he's turning your body and climbing on top of you once again. You blink like an owl as you find yourself face to face with the predator once again. The orange orbs are fixed on yours as he supports his weight on his hands beside your head, long ropes of defined muscles run up his forearms and into his broad shoulders, giving him an intimidating appearance. Not that the four jaws on his alien face weren't enough for that, of course.
You're proud that you don't jump when he touches your face with those sharp clawed fingers, holding your chin and turning your face from side to side.
“I, huh-” you begin, confused when he does nothing but inspect your face inch by inch in complete silence. Now that the frenzy and excitement were subsiding, a different kind of embarrassment washes over you as he lets go of your face and shifts his attention to your breasts and stomach. He ignores you when you stutter a shy question as you feel him groping your breasts and your waist, too rough fingers caressing as gently as he can the bloody welts where his claws have scratched you. He doesn't apologize or show any kind of regret, nothing about his alien facial expression changes when he looks up at you with his ember eyes again. But he continues massaging your flesh in gentle strokes, tilting his head towards you and moving his jaws once. And you know that's the biggest apology you'll ever get from him.
He seems pleased with whatever look is on your face at the moment, because soon you can hear that purring sound once again. A sound that, added to the extreme tiredness that plagues your body, makes you want to close your eyes and sleep. But Doh'kein has other plans. Without any effort, he wraps his arms around your body and pulls you into his lap as he stands, taking you both to what you assume is the bedroom's bathroom.
He doesn't stop his purring as he walks and you're grateful for that, the sound is calm and light and makes you forget about the many problems you obviously need to face. You wouldn't waste energy on that at the moment, though. It wasn't something that was worth or would make any difference, to be honest. Apparently you are bonded to this creature, destined to be his mate or whatever. You are no longer on Earth and cannot even match your strengths and abilities with this creature. Fighting it would be futile.
You look down and touch your belly, marked by some bruises from his powerful grip, and wonder if the union had any success. If not, he might want to try again, just like he says. The thought curls warm and shaky at the bottom of your spine and you feel your face heat up as you discover that you would welcome more attempts.
You look at him from under your eyelashes as he enters the bathroom, leading you both to a huge bathtub - although, to you, the thing looks more like a swimming pool. As you watch him, you notice that the predator's face is as rough and scary as it always was, but when his beautiful orange eyes lower and look at you with such devotion and possession, it's impossible to control the tremor in your body. On some level he is under your command too, you realize. He has been since the beginning, when he allowed himself to be captured and imprisoned just to chase your scent - the scent of his mate. Just the thought of it sends a thrill through you.
You feel his hands on your buttocks as he adjusts your body against his scaly skin, his other hand pressing a few buttons to make the tub fill. A shiver runs down your spine. He shows no sign of straining as he holds you, just keeps you steady and perched on his shoulder as much as you can with your dreadlocks falling loosely around his head. You feel his muscles flex beneath you.
Clutching you to his body, his release still leaking between your thighs, Doh'kein carefully steps into the tub and sits down, arranging you on his lap. You keep your head on his shoulder, feeling his rough hands squeezing your waist and hips, the hot water enveloping your muscles in the best way possible. He squeezes your flesh almost gently, sliding his fingertips instead of his claws. He's massaging your bruises again, you notice. With a tired sigh, you settle your head in the crook of his neck and you can swear his purr stutters for a second.
"Rest, little ooman. We have a long way to go." He grunts glumly and enigmatically, but you just hum some answer, already feeling your eyelids heavy and mind lethargic.
The last thing you think, still hearing his purring and his strange attempt at aftercare is that, with some effort, you could adapt to this new life.
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Tag list: @stunkbiggu @jasminedragoon @dij-ology @sophiaj650 @lem-hhn yangmaeum @chanchirajan1998 @unsatisfiedanddisappointed @bfences @regianenascimentooficial @simplyxwwww @notquitehero @1mawh0re @takeabreathdeath @henrysimp @the-weird-mold-in-the-sink @serendipitous-fernweh @queenkassradite @misscaller06 @two-pounds-of-crab-legs @skeletonea @paninibit @sunflowersunlight7-blog @ghostslillady @imhungry675 @eddiewym69 @mortuaconjuga @jolynesposts @jacobelordiswifeee @aphroditeslips @sanidrift @ambergluskin @noname2246
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queen-vv · 2 years
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Another thing about 5th gen Monster Hunter that bothers me is the catchup items they give you when the expansion comes out, and what feels like speeding up high rank to get you to the new content as fast as possible.
 I played World during it’s initial release window, during the update cycle, so I got to experience it properly in a way that people who play now can’t anymore because they sped up high rank to be immediately fighting nergigante after like 5 total quests prior to that. This may be some strange thing with my recent playthrough, but it took like 3 quests worth of researching to unlock the subspecies, and then the pink rathian hunt and the exploring elder’s recess immediately afterwards, then I picked up all the tracks and traces of Nergigante in during that expedition. This has lead to me now facing Nergigante with no gear at all, still using the hr hunter gear and low rank rathian longsword. The hunter gear maybe speeding up my research dramatically, since it does have that skill, but this feels way too dramatic? A solution to this is the defender weapons and armor, which are cheap/you start with them, and very powerful, but it really feels like it cheapens the experience.
I love the gearing process, it’s literally 50% of the game, and just skipping it for low and high rank bothers me alot. This isn’t an issue at all in GU, which I really like the gearing because there are ways of getting good access to powerful skills like Attack Up early on just by hunting some of the more basic easy monsters. I know they did it in Rise too, and though I haven’t seen how that fares due to not replaying it recently, I think it wouldn’t be quite as bad since there’s no drawn out research quests, instead just having a certain number of quests you need to complete at each rank to advance to the next, and the early monster do give some more useful skills (I think). I really hope for future games they don’t add the catch-up gear, as well as giving the early game monsters’ gear some actually useful skills, which would leave the fun of the gear progression intact for people who come to the games after they’ve been completed with updates and expansions.
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daisynik7 · 5 months
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Cure for a Hangover
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Pairing: Kishibe x f!reader
Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
Word Count: ~3.9k
cw: next-door neighbor Kishibe, age gap (I’m thinking at least fifteen years, Kishibe pushing mid-forties, reader is in her late 20s/early 30s), alcohol consumption, p*rn no plot, smut – PIV sex (cowgirl), blowjob, vaginal fingering, cunnilingus, nipple play, pet names (sweetheart, angel, kiddo)
Summary: Kishibe is your mysterious, brooding, and significantly older next-door neighbor. You’ve lived beside him for a while now, only exchanging basic pleasantries out of politeness, never anything more. One night, he comes home drunk, or so he thinks. It’s not his door he’s slumped again; it’s yours.
Author’s Notes: It’s been a minute since I wrote for Kishibe and I really do miss it. This old man continues to do wonders to me, so I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Thanks! MDNI divider credit to @/cafekitsune.
Taglist: @batafuraikisu @neverlandlostchild @bloompompom @dprkento @a-listaire @man-knees @demonwoman (bc Kishibe using kiddo as a pet name is living in my head rent free thanks to you)
part 3 of to all the boys who live next door anthology series
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It’s not often that you’re met with a man slumped against your door, but here you are, staring down at your next-door neighbor, Kishibe, doing just that. 
It’s past two in the morning now, and you’ve just come back from your own night out with your friends. You’re not nearly as drunk as you were three hours ago, after pounding glasses of Chardonnay while watching cheesy romance movies at your best friend’s apartment. And you’re certainly not as inebriated as the man before you, who absolutely reeks of liquor, even from a small distance away. 
You inspect the scene thoroughly, unsure what to do in this scenario. Kishibe is basically a stranger to you. Sure, you’ve exchanged basic pleasantries here and there over that past year since you moved in. That’s as far as it goes. You have no idea what his profession is, though you have a solid guess as to what it could be, given his work attire and overall physique. While you’ve never run into one yourself, devils run rampart in Tokyo, hell-bent on causing chaos wherever they spawn. Kishibe looks like a Devil Hunter, whose job is to eliminate these monsters. It’s intriguing, that’s for sure, but you’ve never mustered the courage to ask him about it, leaving him to maintain his mysterious demeanor. 
However, right now, you don’t see a Devil Hunter in front of you. Instead, it’s a simple man who is very drunk and very much in your way.
Deciding to help him, because that’s the only choice you have if you want to get into your apartment, you kneel down to search his overcoat, patting the breast pocket for keys. When you find nothing, you move to his pants, retrieving only his phone. His eyes are closed and he’s snoring, blissfully unaware of your predicament in his drunken stupor. You take this time to study his face. He’s looks much older up close; not only that, he’s even more handsome than you originally thought. There’s a prominent scar running from his mouth to his jaw, surely an interesting story behind it. You’re tempted to trace it delicately with your finger, but you ultimately resist the urge, snapping out of it to investigate his phone for any clues. 
There are several missed calls and texts from a person named Kenji. You use the Face ID feature to unlock his phone, thanking the universe that even with his eyes shuts, it works. Not wanting to pry more than necessary, you check the most recent texts for the answer to your question: Where the hell are his keys?
Kenji: you left your keys at the bar, come back now. I’m closing up soon
Kenji: I’m not waiting for your ass
Kenji: I’m leaving, get them tomorrow
You read over the messages once more, groaning quietly to yourself at your dumb luck. Desperate now, you resort to the next logical step.
“Hey,” you say, tapping him lightly on the cheek, rousing him awake. “Kishibe.”
Slowly, but surely, he opens his eyes, half-lidded, struggling to focus on you. “Huh?” His breath is heavy with liquor, most likely whiskey. His voice is deep and gravelly, and you hate admitting that’s it’s almost sexy. Well, not almost. It is sexy. 
Letting the inappropriate thought fade, you say, “You’re at the wrong apartment. This is mine.”
He blinks three times, opening his eyes properly to stare at you, expression confused. “Am I dead?”
You bite your lip, holding back laughter. “No, you’re not.”
“Am I in heaven?”
You shake your head, repeating, “No, you’re not.”
“Then why is there any angel here with me?” He sounds sincere, and you can’t help but break out into a genuine smile. 
“I’m not an angel,” you reply, giggling. 
His lips curve into a cocky grin. “You sure? You look like one to me.” Cheeky bastard, hitting on you while he’s plastered. And look at you, finding it endearing when he does. 
Slightly more relaxed, you slide the phone into his breast pocket, standing up to unlock your door. You can’t just leave him out here all night, so you decide to let him stay with you until he’s sober enough to call a locksmith. You jiggle the keys, turning the knob to open the door, and suddenly, there’s a loud thud, and then a delayed, “Ow.” He’s laid flat in the middle of your doorway, hitting his head on the hardwood. You feel guilty, not having the foresight to see this coming. His body is much sturdier than you anticipated. 
You kneel down, apologizing. “I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”
He winces, rubbing the back of his skull, then gives you a goofy smile. “I’ll be fine. Think I can get a kiss to make it feel better?”
You roll your eyes at him, once again unable to contain your laughter. “I’ll get you some ice. Let’s get you to the couch first, okay?”
Somehow, some way, whether it’s spurred by adrenaline or desperation to finally get some sleep in your own bed, you manage to haul him up by the armpits and drag him the short distance to your couch. You fluff a pillow and place it under his head, making it as comfortable as possible for him. “I’ll get the ice now.”
Before you can stand up, he grabs your wrist, gripping you tightly. “What about my kiss?”
“Nope. Not happening. I bet you don’t even know my name,” you challenge him.
He doesn’t respond, loosening his hold so you can get up. You fill a plastic bag with ice, returning to surround the back of his head with it. Eventually, he utters your name, eyes closed while he relaxes to your touch. He peeks at you with one eye open, waiting for you to confirm. 
You nod, grinning. “So, you do know my name.”
“Can I get my kiss now?” he teases, gazing at you.
You shake your head. “Definitely not. I will not take advantage of a drunk person, that’s fucked up.”
He sighs, exhaling deeply, broad chest rising and falling. “Yeah, you’re right. I knew you were a good girl.”
You try not to hang on to those words, especially the last two, already fluttering below your belly over it. Grabbing his hand to replace yours, you instruct him to keep it there while you return to the kitchen to pour him a large glass of water. Within the short amount of time you’re gone, he falls asleep, his hand barely holding onto to the ice pack. 
You smile to yourself, setting the glass of water down on the coffee table to continue attending to his minor injury. After a while, when you notice that there isn’t any bump or swelling developing, you stop icing him. He snores peacefully in a deep sleep, no sign of waking up anytime soon. As gingerly as you can, you remove his overcoat, draping it over the back of the couch. You set his phone next to the glass of water, for easy access. His tie looks tight around his collar, so you loosen it. Finally, you remove his shoes from his feet, laying them by the front door near your own pair. You’re certain he’ll wake up in the morning, feeling like shit, so you place a bottle of painkillers by his phone in case he needs them. 
It's past three now by the time you’re dressed down in your pajamas and snuggled in bed. You keep the door ajar, listening to Kishibe’s steady breathing in the living room, treating it like white noise to help you fall fast asleep. 
~~~
Kishibe wakes up with his head throbbing. He stares up at the ceiling, not recognizing it as his own. It doesn’t take long for him to realize that this isn’t his apartment. 
He turns, seeing his phone, a glass of water, and a bottle of painkillers on the coffee table arm’s reach of him. Slowly, he sits up, grimacing from the pain, downing all the water in three large gulps. He checks his phone, thankfully still on its last leg of battery. It’s almost eleven on a Saturday morning and he’s sure Kenji, his bartender friend, is already awake, preparing for the day. 
“Kenji,” he mutters, throat hoarse from last night’s festivities. 
His friend first berates him for forgetting his keys, then laughs when Kishibe explains that somehow, some way, he managed to fall asleep on someone else’s couch. He could have woken up in worst conditions, that’s for sure. 
Kenji agrees to stop by after running his errands, in about two hours or so. Beggars can’t be choosers, so Kishibe has no choice but to wait. When they’re phone conversation is over, he sinks back into the cushions, trying to piece everything together from just a few hours ago. He recalls snippets of it, and he grows increasingly embarrassed as the memories play vividly in his brain. He’s certain he called his neighbor an angel, and even more sure that he was begging her for a kiss. How shit-faced was he to compel him to do that? Obviously, very. How could he let his intrusive thoughts blurt out of his mouth like that?
Call it cliché or whatever, but yes, Kishibe is attracted his young, pretty neighbor next door. However, he’s held off on making a move because he doesn’t want to make things between them awkward. Once he crosses that line, their relationship gets more complicated. And the devil knows that Kishibe doesn’t do complicated. So, he’s content with gazing from afar, exchanging basic small talk with one another whenever they pass each other in the hallway. That’s as far as it’s gone with her, and that’s as far as it will go. 
Of course, that’s all fucked up now thanks to his drunken antics from last night. 
Before he can make his move, he hears a bedroom door creak open from behind him. She comes out, looking fresh out of the shower, dressed in skimpy pajama bottoms that are short enough to expose that tantalizing curve right below her ass. Surely, she’s doing this on purpose, right? She has to know how fucking sexy she looks right now, there’s no way she doesn’t. 
He clears his throat, preparing to explain himself right off the bat to avoid an awkward confrontation. But he’s rendered momentarily speechless when she flashes a bright smile at him. “Morning, Kishibe.”
He huffs out a short laugh. “Morning.”
She steps towards him, sitting at the opposite end of the couch by his feet. Her shorts ride up and he’s sure he can see the lacey outline of her panties. Or maybe it’s just his perverse imagination, who knows at this point. “How are you feeling?” she asks, genuinely concerned.
He grunts. “Like shit,” he answers. “But it could be worse.”
“That’s the spirit,” she teases, patting his knee. 
His head pounds from his hangover, though it’s his heartbeat that thumps loudly against his eardrums, aroused by her touch. He has got to control himself. Doing his best to distract her from the raging boner growing beneath his slacks, he asks, “What happened last night?”
She explains her account of the evening in detail, her voice soft and soothing, cautious of his current headache. She leaves out the parts where he embarrasses himself, which he’s grateful for, not wanting to relive the humiliation. When she’s done, she offers, “If you want, you can take a shower while you wait for your friend to arrive. I can get you some towels. I even have a toothbrush you can use.”
He raises a brow at her. “Are you trying to tell me I stink?”
“Do you need someone to tell you that you stink? I thought it was pretty obvious given the state you’re in,” she quips, matching his expression.
He laughs, genuinely amused by her response. “Yeah, can’t argue with that.”
She leads him into her bathroom, showing him how to work the knob for hot water, pointing out the shampoo, conditioner, and soap kept neatly on a corner shelf of her bathtub. She lingers for a bit while he starts the shower, then hands him a clean towel and new toothbrush. “Let me know if you need anything.” 
Surprisingly, he makes it through his shower without succumbing to the temptation to touch himself. As degenerate as he can be, he still has some sense of respect and pride in him, enough to resist masturbating in his neighbor’s shower. He does, however, give her shampoo and conditioner bottles an extra-long sniff.
He dries off, scrubbing his hair with the towel, cleaning behind his ears with cotton swabs, checking his piercings. Towel wrapped around his waist, he brushes his teeth, making sure to go the full two minutes, scrubbing his tongue after. He hasn’t made the best impression so far, so he figures he should try to change that now, if there’s still a chance. Feeling fresh and clean, he stares down at his clothes in a pile on the floor. Even from where he stands, he can smell them, almost like they’ve been diluted in liquor and musk. Without thinking, he steps out of the bathroom, calling out her name. “Got any clothes I could borrow?”
She’s in the kitchen when he comes out, leaning over the stove as she cooks something that smells wonderful. She turns to face him, staring wide-eyed as he stands almost naked in the middle of her living room. Her gaze drifts down his bare body, lingering on his sculpted abs, then at the towel wrapped precariously around his waist. She snaps out of it in time, saying, “I don’t. Sorry.”
“My clothes fucking stink and I don’t want to wear them right now. Mind if I just walk around like this?” 
“Sure. I mean, I don’t mind.” She focuses her attention back to the pan, continuing to cook what looks like scrambled eggs. 
He knows this is a bizarre request, though this day couldn’t get any more bizarre than it already is, can it?
~~~
You’re not exactly sure how to refuse Kishibe’s request to walk around half naked in your apartment, so instead, you agree to it, claiming that you don’t mind. In actuality, you mind very much, simply because you can’t help but fantasize about the delicious sight beneath the towel. One wrong move like a bump to the hip is all it takes to see that pesky cover fall down. Geez, when did you become such a pervert? And for an old man?!
Desperate for a distraction, you maintain focus on the eggs in front of you. While he was in the shower, you decided to start breakfast, something hearty to combat that hangover of his. Scrambled eggs, toast, and sausage, comforting foods to soak up the remaining alcohol left in his body. He makes his way towards you, scooting a chair out from the table to take a seat. He strategically maneuvers himself to not accidentally expose you, though you really don’t mind if he does. Again, perverted thoughts, shame on you!
Finished cooking, you scoop the eggs out onto his plate and the other meant for you. He thanks you, taking a whiff of his breakfast, a small smile on his face. “Smells good.”
You pass him another glass of liquid, this one filled with an electrolyte drink meant for hydration after a night of drinking. “Drink this. It’ll help with your hangover.”
He eyes it suspiciously, then takes a gulp without questioning it further. 
The two of you eat in a comfortable silence, ignoring the obvious tension hanging in the air. From your peripheral, you notice the glint of steel hooked to his ear lobe. Piercings, which you never noticed before. Sexy.
He ends up finishing his entire meal, popping a few painkillers to chase it all down. He even chugs the electrolyte drink, claiming it isn’t so bad. While you take the last few bites of your toast, he excuses himself to brush his teeth again. You’re surprised at how hygienic he is, considering how he appeared before you just mere hours ago, hunched against your front door covered in his own liquor-soaked sweat. You take the plates, stacking them in the sink to wash for later. How much longer is his friend going to take to arrive here? You’re getting nervous, thinking of other ways to fill this gap of time without making your attraction to him so obvious. 
You sit on the couch, turning the TV on to a random sitcom with the volume low, listening to the rush of water from the faucet inside the bathroom. When it stops, you try to find a comfortable position to sit in. It’s only now that you realize how short your pajama bottoms are; they ride all the way up your thighs and you can practically see your underwear through them. It’s too late to change when Kishibe returns, still clad in just a towel, taking a seat on the other side of the couch a safe distance beside you. It’s silent for a brief moment, neither of you knowing what to say in this odd situation. You shift nervously, tugging at the hem of your shorts. 
“Thank you,” he starts, avoiding your gaze, staring ahead at the television. “For taking care of me. Must have been annoying to deal with a drunken old man.”
You smile, relaxing. “It wasn’t so bad. Besides, I couldn’t just leave you out there like that. Someone could have taken advantage of you.”
“Like you almost did?” he smirks, facing you now.
Laughing, you meet his gaze. “You remember that?”
“I do.” He spreads his legs apart just barely, towel draped dangerously over his knee, almost ready to slip.
You swallow hard, avoiding a glance in that direction, heat surrounding your cheeks. “Well, I was a good girl, remember? I didn’t do anything.”
He hums, nodding slowly, eyes drilling into yours. “You were a very good girl.”
Your breath hitches and you find yourself gravitating towards him, scooting closer. He grins, the scar on his cheek curving with it, voice low and seductive. “You gonna be bad for me now?”
“Only if you want me to,” you purr, sliding your hand beneath the towel, up his thigh, arousal pooling between your legs. Fuck it. He wants it, you want it. There’s no denying it anymore. 
“Fuck,” he swears under his breath, pulling you in for a kiss. His mouth is cool and minty against yours, the remnants of toothpaste lingering in his spit. You slurp it up, hungry for any taste of him. He removes the towel from his waist, shrugging it to the floor, leaving him completely naked. You glance at his lap and bite back a moan, amazed at how fucking big he is, way too eager to have him inside you, desperate to be filled to the brim.
“Not bad for an old man, huh?” he chuckles, wrapping his fist around the shaft, stroking it.
“Not bad at all,” you smile, stripping out of your clothes hastily, kneeling between his legs with your mouth open.
He feeds you his cock, humming when you surround him in your wet heat, swallowing him to the hilt. One hand grips the back of your head, guiding you gently up and down his shaft. “You’re filthy, taking your neighbor’s cock like this. Who knew you’d be such a slut?” he mutters, caressing the side of your face with his other hand. “Touch yourself while I fuck this filthy mouth. Get that pretty pussy wet for me.”
You obey, spurred on by his vulgarity, reaching for your arousal, rubbing your throbbing clit with fast fingers. His cock hits the back of your throat and you guzzle him down to resist gagging, drool leaking from the sides of your lips. He moans, bucking his hips slightly, enraptured by you. With his thumb, he brushes away a tear welling at the corner of your eye, pulling out halfway. “Don’t hurt yourself, kiddo. It’s okay if I’m too much for you.”
You release him completely, moving down to his balls, nuzzling your nose to them. “I can take it, don’t worry.”
He clicks his teeth, beckoning you on the couch, almost like you’re being scolded for something you weren’t supposed to do. You roll your eyes, sitting beside him begrudgingly. He leans close to you, hot on your ear, one hand sliding between your legs while the other continues to stroke his dick. “I want to touch you too. That okay?”
You whine in response, tugging him in for a passionate kiss. He massages deep circles around your clit, fingers squelching from your slick gathering along your entrance. “I want a taste,” he growls, splitting apart your thighs, staring at your glistening cunt. 
You nod, sinking into the couch, relinquishing all control to him. You let your pleasured moans speak for you as he dives into your pussy, eating you out sloppily. His facial hair grazes against you with each careful stroke of his tongue and you ache to see his chin shiny with your cum. Eventually, he slips inside you, pumping two digits in and out, mouth still working your bud. Soon, it becomes too much and you’re gushing for him, whimpering his name with ragged breaths, soaking his face in your essence. 
He chuckles, the vibrations resonating to your clit, causing you to twitch with overstimulation. “That’s my girl, making such a mess for me.”
“Fuck me, Kishibe,” you breathe out, craving to be stuffed full of him. You’re reeling from your high, and if he’s not inside you soon, you’re sure you’ll go insane.
He hoists you up onto his lap, precum oozing from the tip of his dick. “How about you fuck me? Show me how much of a slut you are.”
Too fucked out to argue, you lift up on your knees, position him to your wet hole, sinking down slowly. He slides in easily, pussy sleek from your previous orgasm. It’s better than you imagined, every inch of him stimulating every inch of you. You savor it, rocking against him slowly. He kisses along on your neck, trailing to your nipples to suckle on them. “That’s it, sweetheart,” he moans, thrusting up into you to match your rhythm. “Take this cock however you like. It’s all yours.”
You bounce on him faster, whimpering into his mouth as you kiss him. He palms your ass cheeks, squeezing them in his firm grip, delivering a few loud smacks that echo off the walls of your living room, stinging your skin. “Fuck, I knew you were a good girl. Knew it the moment I met you,” he growls, pressing his thumb to your swollen clit. “Always wanted you like this.”
You kiss him harder at his confession, your chest swelling, pussy fluttering. You’re approaching another climax, teetering on the edge. As if he senses it, he tightens his hold on you, fucking into you faster, deeper. “Come for me, angel. Come on this cock.”
And you do, clenching him with your orgasm, making him mutter, “Fuck, I’m coming. I’m coming with you.” He shoots his load inside you, filling you up, just like you wanted. 
It takes a moment for the two of you to catch your breaths, relaxing into each other’s arms, exchanging soft kisses without speaking. You study his face again, similar to how you did just several hours before, when he was slumped against your door, drunk. You thought he was handsome then, even more so now. “How’s your hangover?” you ask, breaking the silence. 
He smiles, nuzzling his nose to yours. “Much better.”
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wearywinchester · 9 months
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Washed Away
Dean Winchester x Reader
Requested by Anonymous: “Hi 😊 Would you be willing to write a fluffy fic of the reader helping dean take a shower or the other way around?? Please?? No pressure though!!”
Summary: Dean helps you shower after a rough hunt.
Warnings: angst, injury, mentions of blood, language, implied nudity, fluff
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Brutal.
That’s the only way you could describe the last two days. Absolutely, wholeheartedly brutal.
Hunting was supposed to be easy by now. It was supposed to be routine, motions and actions done without much thought at all behind them. It’d vary from hunt to hunt, monster to monster, but it’d all blend into the same thing when it came down to it.
But you were wrong, so beyond wrong this time. The hunt went a million miles south, headed towards disastrous and fast.
You couldn’t believe it even, but the way you’d been feeling since said hunt had you eventually believing that it actually was that bad. And the stings and burns of the injuries you’d sustained and walked away with had been plenty of a reminder that it was horrible.
You were practically thrown around like a damn rag doll by the seemingly demon ghost hybrid that really must’ve had it out for you. If the scrape to your cheek, the cut on your forehead and other miscellaneous bumps and bruises were of any indication that is.
But more importantly, you were rattled from it. So utterly spooked after having been by yourself for a large chunk of time while this entity tried its very best to make you terrified while Dean was losing his mind looking for you. You were so beyond upset and shaken, and the idea of doing anything by yourself, anything at all, sounded unbelievably undesirable, something that made your stomach churn at the thought.
And you hated it. You hated feeling helpless, or scared. It made you feel smaller than small and weak, even though it’s considered just the opposite. Nothing can break the stubbornness of your mind on the matter, yet you were too fear stricken, too tired and upset to give even half a damn about not wanting to do something so simple as to take a shower by yourself.
Dean didn’t know just how shaken up you were, just how awful you felt. How uneasy you felt within yourself, an unsettled feeling in the pit of your stomach that sent panic flurrying up into your chest at a near constant rate. You were scared, and he didn’t know how much.
He does, but you don’t know that.
He knows that as you sit on the bench in the bunker bathroom, watching as he turns the water on. He’s got two small piles of clothes folded on the counter. They practically looked identical, two sets of his own clothing. But he knows you, and he knows you prefer his clothing over your own.
It’s quiet save for the water splashing down against the tile and the clear of his throat, and you’re almost too wrapped up in your own little world to notice the green eyed hunter kneeling down in front of you. Didn’t notice till he tapped your knee.
“Showers almost ready, sweetheart,” he says, the corner of his mouth tugging upwards slightly in a soft half smile.
You simply nod, eyes flickering over his face as you sit before him. That look he gave you lingered, gentle yet worried all the same as you lift your hand. You run your hand through his hair briefly, smoothing it down to settle on his cheek. You felt the prickle of his stubble on your palm and shortly after you leaned forward, forehead pressed to his for a few moments.
You breathed in and held it for a second or two, releasing a heavy sigh through your nose, long and drawn out.
You felt the way he bumped your nose with his own, and you felt the way his hands rested around your ankles. You felt the way his breath brushed against your lips, warm and gentle, fleeting with every inhale. And you felt the way his thumbs brushed along your skin softly.
You dropped your hand and stayed there for a moment or two, eyes closed as you fidgeted with a button on his flannel. Eyes closed until you thought too much about that hunt and had to open them again as if it’d erase that fear, that feeling.
His warmth left you momentarily, his hands gliding up your calves, and you felt his kiss on your forehead before he stood to his feet.
You watched as he walked over to the shower and stuck his hand under the stream, watching his small nod of approval at the temperature before he turned back and walked to you.
“Water’s ready,” he murmurs, running a hand over your head as he looks down at you from where you sit.
You don’t quite look at him yet, looking around the rather spacious bathroom, at the shower as the water runs and pounds against the tile floor. After a few moments you turn your head and look up at him, his hand falling away.
You simply nod, shoulders slumped and you can’t help but notice that look he’s got on his face, the one that’s got all the empathy in the world. Dean Winchester might be incredibly rough around the edges, might be extremely gruff, but he was damn sure the sweetest and gentlest there could be. Contrary to popular belief.
But that side doesn’t show very often for just the average person.
“Want me to help?” He asks, and you nod again.
He drops to his knees, dropping a kiss to your forehead on the way down.
He tugs at the laces of your boots, working at the double knots you always put in. They were fairly loose this time, pulling the tattered laces free. He made a mental reminder to pick up some new ones for you.
He pulled at the tongues of your boots to loosen them some more, starting with one foot and pulling it off, then moving to the other. It was a relief to have those shoes off, feet feeling sore and overly warm, the material and soles unforgiving after a while.
He hooked his fingers in the ankles of your socks, pulling them off your feet. Another relief.
You sigh softly as he looked up at you, your pile of discarded clothes slowly building.
You stood up slowly, the soreness you felt having you scrunching up your face slightly. He worked at unbuckling your belt with ease, unzipping your jeans. He was careful as he slid them down, cautious of any scrapes or cuts he may not know about. He didn’t want to cause anymore hurt than you’d already been feeling. You put your hand on his shoulder as he bent down and helped you step out of them, tugging them from around your ankles.
He tossed the dirtied denim onto the pile, returning his focus back to you. His fingers found the bottom of your shirt, and you lifted your arms as he tugged the fabric up, the movement only worsening the soreness as you let out a soft whine.
It wasn’t until now that he saw the bruises that littered your thighs and your knees, you shins too. It wasn’t until then that he saw just how much damage was done by that damn demon ghost jerk that threw his sweetheart around like you weighed nothing at all. He saw it and it made him angry, a heavy feeling in the pit of his stomach forming. He wished he would’ve made that monster suffer more before he ganked it.
He was quick to discard his own clothes, disregarding how sore he felt, and the few minor injuries of his own. He wanted to change before helping you out of your undergarments, didn’t want you to have to stand there and feeling as vulnerable as a person could feel. And he knew you were cold, could tell by the way you hugged his flannel around yourself tightly.
That pile of dirty clothes was larger now, and you shrugged off his flannel with a quiet breath, the chilly bathroom air sending shivers along your skin.
He was just as gentle to help you out of your undergarments, tossing them aside.
You made small steps towards the shower, the warmth of his hand on the small of your back having made that comforting feeling return to you.
The water was warm but not too hot as you stepped under the stream, though to fresh scrapes and cuts, it felt scalding and burning. He noticed the way you winced, and the way you pulled the affected areas away from the water momentarily. It sent a pang through him as he tugged the curtain closed, the chilly air stuck on the other side of it now rather than seeping in.
“You okay?” He asks, brushing wet strands of your hair out of your face and away from the wounds on your skin.
“‘M fine,” you say, looking up at him.
He didn’t believe it.
“Is the water too hot?” He asks, the pad of his finger brushing along the curve of your ear, his thumb swiping against your temple.
You shake your head, watching the way his eyes flicker back and forth between yours, the crease between his brows very much apparent. He was trying to read you, you knew that. And you also know he could probably see right through you, but that was no surprise. He knew you like the back of his hand.
He simply hums, those dimples appearing by the corners of his mouth ever so slightly.
His hair was flattened down by the water, brushing against the tips of his eyebrows. The lighting accentuated his freckles, pretty flecks the smattered all across the bridge of his nose and branching upward to his forehead in less noticeable speckles unless you were right up close. They went downward and dusted along his lips.
But they also dotted along his chest lightly, spreading over his shoulders, hidden under the tattoo on his chest. You traced your finger along it briefly before dropping your hand with a sigh.
His hands came up and smoothed your hair away from your face once more.
“Turn around, sweetheart,” he says, a gentle command.
You do so, watching his hand reach out beside you and snag the shampoo bottle from the shelf.
You hear the lid click open, and moments pass before you feel a polite tug on the ends of your hair, signaling you to tip your head back. You hear him set the bottle down, and it wasn’t long before you felt the coolness of the shampoo hit your scalp.
His fingers tangled in your hair and rubbed your scalp in soothing circles, working in the fresh smelling product, careful not to get too close to the cut on your forehead.
You were still very on edge despite the calming moment you were in right now, despite the man who would protect you from any and everything having been right there. You still felt unsettled despite being in a protected bunker that was always kept locked, safe from not only just the regular outside world, but the supernatural one too.
Fear still pulsed through you, that shaky feeling you had was still there and making you feel uneasy. It was still there and gripping you, demanding your focus no matter how hard you tried to move it elsewhere.
Dean noticed, of course he did. And when the pipes made the noises they make when the hot water runs through them, those damn old pipes, it nearly makes you jump out of your skin at the very sound of it. You’ve got to calm down and you know that.
You turn around, arms folded to your chest. The stream from the shower pushed your hair in your face now that your head wasn’t tipped back, and some of the shampoo had gotten into your cut and scrape, but you didn’t care so much about that as you did calming down.
“‘S okay, just you and me in here,” he murmurs, tipping your chin back slightly as he nods at you, making sure you’re understanding him.
You release a heavy exhale, some of your shakiness following with it as you mirror his nod, knowing that it’s silly to be scared right now. You’re in your home, your very well secured home, and you’re with Dean. There was absolutely no way anything could get you. You need to relax, so you tried your best.
That cut on your forehead stung from the soap, and he tipped your head back, working the product out of your hair until it’s fully rinsed out. He was ever so gentle, working with soft movements.
The pad of his thumb brushed over your forehead, brows narrowing at the sight of your injury. He was more than displeased, of course he was. The thought of any grimy monster—or anything— laying it’s hands on you made a certain anger bubble and sit heavy in the pit of his stomach. A rage.
His hand slid down and settled on your cheek, it’s calloused warmth far different and much better than the warm water of the shower that’d been washing over you.
His thumb caressed your cheek, a delicate motion. It was so grounding in the present moment, a moment where your mind was trying to be in a million different places at once. He knew that, could tell by the way your hands trembled, and the accidental frown on your lips. Could tell immediately.
His other hand settled on your other cheek, grabbing your face gently to kiss your forehead and then your nose.
“‘M gonna wash up, then we can head to bed. Okay, sweetheart?”
You simply nod.
He’s washed up in a matter of a couple minutes, clothes are on in another few. Everything was fresh and clean, the hunt washed away, the only thing having been left were the scars that came with it.
The sheets were clean, something Dean had a habit of doing before leaving for hunts. It was soft and familiar, warm and safe, much better than motel bed after motel bed. It was home.
You had to remind yourself of that, that you were safe and out of harms way. That you were home and comfortable, not stranded on a hunt with a monster on the loose and ready to hurt you.
“You thinkin’ again?” He asks several moments later.
You nod, a soft hum following it.
You hear his quiet chuckle, though there was no malice in it, no mocking. Just a knowing kind of laugh, because he knew you’re in your head more often than not.
But he simply pulls you closer from where he sits propped against the headboard, the tv playing softly from where it sits atop the dresser. You nestled in, tucked yourself in tight and tangled your legs with his, the warmth of the blankets and sheets incomparable to his body heat.
“Scooby’s on,” he shrugs, hiking you up to be closer to him.
“Mhm,” you hum.
You look up at him, all the love in your gaze as it flickers across his face until he meets your eyes. You lean up and kiss him, his stubble rough against your skin.
You lean over and kiss his cheek too before tucking your head in the crook of his neck, warm as ever as you nuzzled in close.
“I love you,” you whisper, unsure if it’d even be loud enough to hear.
But that kiss to your temple, the way he squeezed you closer, you knew he heard it.
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