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hyunsvngs · 2 months

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𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫 - vampire!changbin x human!reader

wc: 3.2k

cw: vampire!changbin, human!reader, they r in love ur honour, 18+ smut MINORS DNI!!

synopsis: changbin may be a vampire with supernatural strength, but there's nothing he loves more than to let you take control.

a/n: based off of this post and this ask :3 ENJOY.... please heed the smut warnings tho!!

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

sw: blowjobs, blood kink, petnames, mommy kink, dom!reader, sub!bin, maybe slight strength kink?, MUZZLE KINK!, dirty talk, riding, unprotected sex, creampie

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

you can’t believe you’ve got a man this delicious. a man so pliant and malleable too despite his otherworldly, supernatural status. changbin would never use his vampiric strength on you, no - he’d much rather lay down on the bed and let you do what you want to him.

you’d begged him to turn you when you fell in love. to be able to use your strength on him, you said, trying to convince him. he’d only retorted with a quick “i let you do what you want anyway, sugar?” and well… he wasn’t wrong.

he invited you into his home quicker than any man ever had. he sweetened you up, took you on traditional dates where he turned up at your door with a bouquet of blood red roses, and even sweet talked your mother enough that she approved of him and let you stay at his house. she didn’t know he was over a hundred years old with two pointed teeth, obviously, but what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.

the seo estate is magnificent. the gardens are surrounded by an impenetrable stone wall, looking to be as fresh as the day it was built, and changbin has multiple bedrooms to himself. you’d gotten a bit upset - “binnie, doesn’t it get lonely here?” you said, bottom lip quivering, but he’d only slung one muscled arm around you. “i have you now, gorgeous.”

that was another thing about your man - he’s reassuring, and you always feel safe around him. you know that if you prodded at him a little more and begged him hard enough that he would truly change you and turn you into one of his own, if not purely because he cannot see spending his life with anyone else.

he lays beneath you now, and you’re lost in your own thought with how much love you can have for someone who would be known as a creature of the night. his tummy quivers with an exhale, and you realise your fingernails have been digging into his pecs through the black silk shirt he’s wearing. he shifts beneath you, slacks tight with his erection, and you grin at his reaction.

“you like the pain, binnie?” you muse, digging your fingernails in just a bit harder. changbin whimpers, eyes fluttering shut, and you see his fangs poke out and dig into his plush doll-like bottom lip. not hard enough to draw blood, no, but just enough to the point you know he’s enjoying it. you grind your hips down and his hands fist in the black sheets on his bed.

the candlelight flickers around you as you adjust yourself, your nightgown spilling off one shoulder and exposing your shoulder to him. when you grind down again, his eyes flutter open, pupils dilated. “i want you to tell me what you want, changbin.”

his eyes flicker to your shoulder, and you giggle when they slowly crawl up to your neck. changbin hums, fingers twitching as if they want to grab you, but he won’t. he’s a good boy.

“i want-“ he huffs, one of his shorter, human teeth biting at his lip. “i want you. i want to- i want you to ride me, sugar, and will you let me- will you let me drink from you again? god, your blood is the sweetest thing i’ve ever had.”

“mm, maybe,” you respond, but you know you’ll let him. you just need him to beg a little bit more, sweeten you up a bit. “i’ll ride you, binnie. will you let me have your cock in my mouth first?”

“god, really?” changbin groans, eyes flickering in excitement, and you nod. your hand runs down his tummy, past the shirt and to the zipper of his slacks. it bulges out with how hard he is, and you use your fingernail to push it down, the slow noises of the unzipping filling the room.

you’re sure changbin’s going to scream if you don’t hurry up, so you’re quick to lift your hips up and pull his trousers and boxers down muscled thighs together. his cock is hard, unbearably so, slapping against his stomach and leaking against the fabric of his expensive shirt. the head leaks beneath his foreskin steadily. you want it in your mouth, but you have to make him work for it first - you wrap your hand around the base, lifting his cock off of his tummy, and then you’re stripping his cock at a rapid pace.

“oh! oh, ah- ah,” he’s wincing, and you know it’s dry, but you can’t help but hurt your boy sometimes. tears bloom in his eyes and you can see that it truly must take his superhuman strength to stop his hips from fucking up into your fist, his hands almost tearing his sheets clean off of the bed. “gorgeous, sugar, your mouth- your mouth, please! please, fuck, i-“

changbin cuts himself off with a sharp keen when you flick your fingernail over his nipple, through his shirt. “what do you call me, binnie?”

he must be stupid with it already because he blinks at you, a tear falling down one soft cheek. he stammers a few noises out, your hand still ravaging his cock, and then it hits him. “mommy! ah, mama, mama! mommy, please, please, give binnie your mouth.”

“there you go, good boy,” you coo, hand moving from his chest to his hair. you pet just above his ear, and he leans into your touch, humming happily. you don’t comment when he turns his mouth to your palm, nipping just slightly with his teeth, but you do reward him with a soft smack to his face. “stay still. no biting, bunny.”

he whimpers when you finally begin your descent down his body. you kiss him through his shirt, and then you finally push the material up to his waist to see him in his entirety. you’ve still got a tight grip on him, and he stands prominent in your fist, his leaky tip just barely peeking out. your tongue darts to dip into his piss slit, and he really does rip the sheets a little this time, along with a strangled noise coming from his lungs.

it’s easy to deepthroat changbin’s cock. his girth is so delicious that it stretches your jaw a little, but you’re able to get his length to your throat with no issues whatsoever. you do so, engulfing his cock into your mouth, and when you start bobbing your head he’s done for. he wails with it, little murmurs of your name falling from his lips, and when you let your eyes flicker up to him he’s really crying.

“mama! oh, oh, my- binnie’s cock feels so good, mama, it’s- hnnng, oh!” he’s babbling as if he can’t believe it, as if you haven’t done this a million times, and you move your hand to his sac. his balls are heavy, full and swollen with his pending release, and you massage them with your thumb until he positively can’t control the bucking of his hips. you let him fuck your throat once, twice, and then you slap his balls hard. “sorry! sorry, mommy, binnie’s sorry.”

you let his cock slide out of your mouth, and it lands with a wet slap against the thatch of curly, pitch black hair at his base. “i said to stay still, bunny,” and your voice is hoarse, but he nods, chin quivering.

“‘m sorry,” he mumbles, and you can see how his cock jumps with his nervousness. “will you- will you still let binnie drink? and ride me, and-?”

“and what, baby? cum inside me?” you tilt your head to the side in question, and you swear you see changbin blush. he nods, bottom lip jutting out, and you can’t help your laugh. “we’ll see. be a good boy for me, okay?”

he wasn’t expecting you to move up his body again, but he’s pleasantly surprised when you pull your nightgown up. the white satin remains on your body, just barely held up by the curve of your hips, and you hold his cock upright. you’re soaking wet between your legs, and changbin moans out when you run his length through the folds of your pussy, just barely catching on the swollen bud of your clit.

“binnie,” you say, breathless. “binnie, tell me how much you want it.”

he’s instant with his response. “so bad! so bad, sugar, feel how hard i am? binnie’s that hard just for you, will you let me have it?”

“just for me, mm?” you ask, and he nods. you lift up just a tad, holding the hem of your nightgown up, and then you’re sinking down onto his cock in one go. his girth stretches your hole beyond belief, even with the added thickness. when he bottoms out, your toes curl, his cockhead resting in that one gummy place inside you that he’s taught you to love. “ah, there we go. that’s good, yeah?”

“s-so good, mama,” his voice is choked, and he lets his eyes flutter shut again. “so good. tight pussy, ‘s so good.”

“it’s all yours, baby,” you moan, and he nods frantically. you’re quick to start moving your hips, too horny to keep the facade going, and changbin’s hands move to grab the pillow either side of his head. your ass slaps against the tops of his thighs, wet noises ringing throughout the entirety of the stone-built room - and probably further out in the estate, but you can’t fathom the concept of changbin’s groundskeepers hearing anything. at a particularly well-angled bounce of your hips, his cockhead rams deliciously into your g-spot, and you know you’ve cracked it, continuing your grinds in that exact position.

“is it good?” changbin asks, breathless, and he finally opens his eyes. his eyes land on your tits, bouncing in your nightgown, and he shuts them again as if he’s been branded with a silver cross. “sugar. i can’t even look at you, i’ll bust.”

you giggle, leaning forward to grip onto him for purchase. your hands land on his pecs again and you whine when your clit grinds against his pubic bone, fast and feverish, and you don’t reprimand him when his hands finally move down to your ass. he’s held back for so long, and you both know that it’s only so long that he can take not being able to touch you.

“ah, that’s so- fuck, binnie,” you moan, teeth digging into your bottom lip. you’re reminded of your previous plans when his fingernails scratch at your ass, his back arched like a cat. “mm, binnie? y’wanna taste mommy?”

in any other situation with any other man that would have completely different connotations, but changbin knows what it means. he shoots up into a seated position, eyes half lidded, and his head darts to the juncture between your neck and your shoulder.

“c-can i, mommy?” he questions, moaning when your hips grind down on him harder. “can i, please?”

“more, binnie,” you respond, and he knows what you mean. his tongue laves over your neck, and then he places a wet, open-mouthed kiss over the column of your throat. that’s where he’s going to bite you, and he’s tenderizing you like something he’s going to eat. you suppose you are.

“mama,” he whines, long and drawn out. “let me taste you. please, god, i’m thirsty, mama. let me, please?”

you sigh with your pleasure, and you finally halt your hips, stopping the boy underneath you from being jostled too much. his hands knead at your asscheeks while you pretend to deliberate.

“alright, honey,” you coo, voice soft. “you can bite.”

changbin’s fangs protrude from his mouth, and then he’s biting you. it’s slow, the way his teeth begin to bury themselves into your skin, and the moan he lets out is high pitched. changbin’s always messy when you let him do this, and despite the fact he starts to drink your blood instantly upon it hitting his tastebuds, it’s already started to drip down your shoulder.

you pick the right time to start moving your hips again. he’s sighing and moaning as he drinks, and you begin a slow grind on top of him. changbin’s cock positively throbs inside of you, and you clench down approvingly, making him grip you just a bit tighter.

he drinks and drinks until you’re lightheaded with it. when he pulls away, you’re a little dizzy, but not enough so that you can’t take in the sight of him. his chin and lips are covered in bright red blood, and it’s dripped down to your white nightgown and stained the fabric a dangerous colour. changbin moans in approval when he sees it, and his mouth goes to your nightgown to try and lick the excess up messily. fortunately for you, he licks over the pebbled peak of your nipple, and he’s fixated on it as soon as he catches it.

the nightgown becomes drenched with not only your blood, but his spit too. he doesn’t let up, swirling his tongue around your nipple through the fabric, and you’re left to run your fingernails through his hair teasingly. he whines against you when you pull his hair back to your neck, before he’s quiet, lapping at the two pin prick holes in your skin soothingly. something about his venom over the wounds feels euphoric, and you can’t help yourself when you push him back down onto his back to ride him hard.

he looks debauched. his eyes blaze a crimson shade with his feed, and your blood is smeared all over the bottom of his face - streaks adorn his sharp chin and his fangs look like they’ve been dipped in it. he licks over his upper lip with a grin, and you can’t help but to smile back before you’re bouncing.

“fuck yeah! yeah, mama, yeah, ride me,” he murmurs, eyes flickering over your body like he can’t believe you exist. you can’t believe he exists, but you know you must look the picture of his wet dreams in your nightgown. the fabric over your breast is so drenched it’s see through, and your blood still drips a little bit from your neck. in the middle of grinding on his chubby cock, you let your thumb collect some of the red liquid on your thumb, and you press it into his mouth.

changbin whines. his hands move to your waist and he sucks your thumb like he would your strap, moaning around it like it’s the best thing he’s ever had past his plushy lips. you fuck the digit in and out in rhythm with your pace on top of him, and his cock leaks inside you so warm you feel it, flooding your gummy walls and leaving you breathless.

with a strong grind on his cock, changbin’s fangs nip at your thumb, and you have to pull your thumb away for another little love tap on his cheek. his eyes roll back into his head, and you giggle. an idea hits you, and you know you just have to do it.

your hips halt, and you grab changbin’s curls tight, pulling his head back. “i think we better get your muzzle, bunny.”

“no! no, you let me drink, what- why?! why, why?” he wails, but you know he enjoys it. he just likes kicking up a little fuss when you get mean like this, and you ignore him to reach into the bedside table to grab the offending item. it’s only small, covering the bottom half of his face with black leather and miniature metal bars over his mouth, but changbin cums his fucking brains out every time you equip it over his gorgeous face. he’s still babbling when you loop it over his curls, pulling the strap tight and letting your pussy clench down at the sight of him so submissive, so pliant.

“mm, that’s it. stay there like that, that’s it,” and you lean back, hands gripping his thighs. you’re feeling a little lenient, so you let changbin push your nightgown up with calloused palms and watch the space where his cock enters you over and over. he’s going to cum soon, you realise, and you’re going to have to make the most of the time you have right now. changbin snaps his fangs at you as if he’s a puppy about to bite, and you clench down on him with a sharp keen, pussy gushing down to his pubic hair.

you reach around yourself with one hand, fingers rubbing messily over your clit, and it makes your pussy tingle deliciously. changbin’s still making strangled noises, legs thrashing behind you, and you can hear him mumbling quietly.

“please, please… let me drink again, sugar? mommy. mama, please, please-”

his hips cant upwards and you jolt. your pin prick wounds on your neck are healed from the after effects of changbin’s vampire venom, but you flick your fingernail over it, causing the wound to start oozing crimson essence again. changbin’s nose scrunches up beneath the muzzle as he inhales, and you wipe your hand over your bloody skin before you’re just barely letting your fingertips slide through the metal bars on his restraints.

“s-smell it, changbinnie,” you coo, chest heaving with a flush as you get closer to your orgasm. your hand speeds up on your clit when he nips softly at your fingers, and when he cants his hips up again he’s flooding you with hot cum. his own chest heaves as he cums, cock throbbing inside of you, and you whine.

“fuck. fuck, sorry-”

“stay fucking still, bunny,” you groan. “you better not go soft on me. make mama cum, c’mon.”

and he does. he wraps his muscled arms around you, the material of his shirt scratching against your nightgown, and then he’s thrusting into you. it’s awkward, and he’s only half hard, but the show of strength is the only thing you need to push you over the edge. you shake and gush through your orgasm, arms moving to wrap around changbin’s neck, and you feel his chest rumble with a groan as he feels you throb around him.

when you flop off of him, pussy messy and swollen with your sex, he stretches with a loud groan. you huff in response, and he sniffs. the unspoken communication makes him let out that loud, affectionate laugh that you love.

changbin’s out of breath next to you, limbs akimbo, and you giggle at his soft cock resting against his pubic bone. you pull the straps of his muzzle loose and let it drop onto the pillow, and changbin grins at you.

“the muzzle was such a good idea,” he says, elated, and you let him push himself into your space and lay his head on your chest. your nightgown is still covered in blood and his spit, but he doesn’t care, making little happy noises against you. “i love you, yeobo.”

you can’t help but smile, sated. “i love you too, changbinnie.”

#juno's fics ♡#seo changbin smut #changbin smut #seo changbin fanfiction #seo changbin x reader #changbin fic #changbin x reader #skz scenarios #skz smut #skz x you #skz x reader #stray kids smut #stray kids fanfiction #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #vampire!skz #skz imagines

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1nthedarknessofthenight · 6 months

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﴾ i drink your blood and i eat your skin

pairing: vampire! hwang hyunjin x f!reader

general warnings: this story will contain gore, violence, strong language, slow burn, potential smut and classic vampire things, also reader’s body is being described to be more on the chubbier side

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ongoing series masterlist

playlist

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part one

part two

part three

part four

part five

part six

part seven

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therhythmafterthesummer · 11 months

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The Taste of Love (M) ~Lee Know

Pairing: Vampire!Minho x Human!F.Reader Themes: Supernatural/Fantasy AU | Smut | Some Fluff | Mediaeval Setting Word Count: ~3k | AO3 Synopsis: Every handful of centuries, Minho found himself someone that was willing to let him feed off of them. It usually wasn’t planned, it sort of just happened. This time, that person was you, the baker that had just moved into town. He wanted nothing more than to have a taste of you, in more ways than one. Warnings: Minho’s POV · blood (duh) · vampire shenanigans (good ol’ blood sucking) · reader is implied to be chubby, but there’s not that much focus on it · possibly inaccurate mediaeval terminology · graphic depictions of intercourse (smut warnings under the cut).

Author’s Note: will i ever get tired of vampire!minho? no, i won’t. this is all just some monsterfuckery, as usual. don’t look at me 🫣 special thanks to @comet-falls for reading this before anyone else and letting me know it didn’t suck💜

Due to all the abovementioned warnings, this story is intended for an adult audience only. Minors please do not interact.

Smut Warnings: implied/referenced sexual acts · some sort of bloodplay, but this is a vampire fic, what did you expect? · explicit oral (F.Rec)

Disclaimer: the story represented in this work does not represent Stray Kids in any way; anything described in this story and all actions performed by the characters are purely fictional, this was created just for good fun.

Ever since Minho was turned, he’d had trouble dealing with his feedings.

For long periods of time, he’d settled on a vegetarian diet, hunting deer, or moose, or any possible animal he could find in the woods. Every couple of centuries, though, he’d be lucky enough to find someone fucked up in the head enough to let him feed off of them. It was something he tended to avoid, because he’d inevitably grow attached, and getting attached to someone that aged and eventually died was something that took an immense toll on the tiny bit of humanity that was left in him.

Sometimes, though, it was unavoidable. Or, at least, it felt like it to him.

The first time you crossed his path was during the very early morning, way before the sun rose in the horizon. Minho had just fed, he’d had so much the poor cow didn’t even make it. He was seemingly satisfied enough to go on for a few days without any more of his crimson sustenance, but the second you walked past him, his mouth went dry.

What an intoxicating scent, you had… Enough to cloud his reason completely, enough to make him turn around and walk after you–discreetly, of course. If years and years living in hiding had taught him anything, it was the art of discretion.

Minho knew it was wrong. That what he was doing was beyond creepy and immoral, but he needed to know who you were, he just did. So he followed you until you made it to a building, a new bakery that had settled in town just last week.

Soon after, the smell of baked goods started to emanate from the building’s chimney. It was pleasant, but nothing compared to the smell of you.

Minho left the place shortly after that, right before the sun started to show his head in the sky, and, as he walked the familiar paths to his manor in the outskirts of the town, he figured it was time for him to open himself up again. Now, it was just a matter of courting you, in hopes that you’d give him the time of day.

Trying to get someone’s attention while being a creature of the night wasn’t exactly easy. That was something Minho quickly came to find out after he turned. Which was why, the only times he was able to see you was either in the early morning when you went to your bakery and started preparing your goods, or in the late evening when you finally closed shop and made your way home.

The first time he tried to approach you, a friend of yours suddenly came out of nowhere, and Minho, admittedly, felt a bit shy, so he decided to try some other time. He’d lived for centuries, he was stronger, more dexterous than any human, and somehow he still felt uncomfortable around strangers sometimes. He often called this curse of introversion the remnants of his humanity.

He continued to try, though. He was persistent, but each attempt always failed. To this day, he found it both amusing and mortifying that the evening he finally got to meet you, to actually speak to you, was also the one he made a fool of himself. What was all vampiric dexterity worth for if he was still able to trip over his feet and fall face first to the ground?

Thankfully for him, you had quite the sense of humour, and his mishap simply made you laugh and offer your hand to help him to his feet. Your reaction made it so Minho didn’t feel half as embarrassed as he usually would, so it was easy for him to recover and start chatting you up.

After getting acquainted with you, Minho reached the same dilemma he always had in situations like these… He wanted you. Not only that delicious nectar that flowed through your veins, but also everything that laid under your clothes, and, most of all, your company.

He knew he had to reveal his true self to you, and if you wanted him back, vampirism and all, it’d all be smooth and dandy. However, if you didn’t, he’d have to make a choice… Respect your decision and leave you alone forever, or do as many of his peers did, to give into his instincts, drink you up, erase your memory, and carry on with his life as if nothing had happened.

When he had been recently turned, Minho didn’t even entertain the possibility of taking someone’s blood without their consent, but, after having lived as long as he had, morality was a concept that seemed to shift and drift into a muddier construct. He’d always thought that, if he ever did something like that, then that’d be the moment he’d known that tiny bit of humanity in him had left him completely.

Luckily, when he did gather the courage to tell you the truth, even if you had been a bit shaken at first, you clearly liked him enough not to care about it. If anything, you were immensely curious about it all. ‘How old are you then?’, ‘Were things as bad back then as they said?’, ‘Did it hurt?’, ‘Does it hurt now?’

Minho answered any and every question you had for him, as honestly as he could–although, ometimes, he believed that if he was too honest or too straightforward he’d scare you off. ‘I’m really old’, ‘They were even worse’, ‘It did hurt. A lot…’, ‘It does not hurt as much anymore. Only when I am hit by sunlight or when I have not fed in a long time…’

When you inquired about his feedings, he simply told you of his vegetarian diet. He didn’t want to go too deep into it. You didn’t need to know which animals he drank from, nor how his vegetarian diet made it so he had to feed at least once a week, as opposed to how human blood would keep him satisfied for a whole month.

He decided not to ask you to let him feed off of you just yet… Just like it happened when he wanted to tell you about his vampirism, he was also apprehensive of asking you to become his main source of sustenance.

After all, to Minho, not only did it feel like a major commitment, but, also, you could very well push him away due to the proposition, and he honestly wouldn’t blame you if you did. Although, losing you now was something he couldn’t afford. He was too used to walking you to your bakery in the very early morning, to spending evenings talking with you…

Regardless of his very obvious attraction, he genuinely enjoyed your company, and this was probably the most understood he’d felt after a long, long time. And also, to him, it felt like you were enjoying his company, too.

The first time Minho kissed you, it had been a spur of the moment thing. He was notorious for overthinking these things, for wanting the situation to be absolutely perfect, but you just smelt so good, and you looked so cute, and your heart was beating so fast in your chest there was no way he could’ve stopped the words from coming out of his mouth.

‘I really want to kiss you…’

Lame, basic, completely void of flourish or romanticism… But your heartbeat still quickened, he could hear your blood rushing through your veins, all the way to the utmost sensitive areas of your body. For a brief moment, he wished you could feel that reaction in him, too. He was certainly feeling it–or, at least, something akin to it, even when his body had long since been incapable of showing it.

‘Are you sure? I am no longer chaste…’

How ludicrous. As if something as trivial as that mattered to him. He’d lived for so long, he’d realised chastity was on its own a ridiculous concept. Almost no one was chaste after reaching a certain age, either because of the thoughts in their heads or the actual physical implications of the fact. Which was exactly what he told you.

If Minho’d had a working heart, he was sure it would’ve leaped out of his chest the second you pulled him to you for a kiss.

Your lips were soft, warm, they had a faint taste of strawberry–surely from one of your jam-filled pastries–and an undeniable taste of you. As he kissed you, as he held you close to him by the waist, Minho realised he was cursed now.

There was no way he wouldn’t be bound to you after this, after savouring the feeling of your warmth against his body, of your soft flesh under his hands… Things escalated further than he had ever expected that night, but he wasn’t going to complain, not when the sight of you, vulnerable, completely bare on his bed, was everything he could’ve ever dreamt of.

Minho knew then that he was ready to spend the next handful of decades with you, for as long as your mortal life lasted, or for as long as you wanted him to.

The first time you brought up the topic of feeding to him, Minho almost didn’t believe his ears.

‘Have you ever thought of feeding off of me, my love? Of drinking me up?’

It was not only the two questions themselves, but also the way you’d asked them, and your overall body language as you did, that made him think he was delirious. You didn’t sound scared, nor disgusted. If anything, there was a lingering curiosity in your tone, and, most importantly, a dangerous tint of sultriness, maybe even arousal, that hung to your every word.

‘Of course I have, my dear. More times than I could ever count…’

Minho had no reservations when he answered your queries. How could he, when you had shown him nothing but acceptance and love throughout these past handful of months? When you seemed to have absolutely no qualms when it came to his monstrous ways?

‘Would you like to do it?’

If he had the ability to, he was sure he would’ve fainted right then and there.

Of course he would like to do it. Scratch that, he would love to do it. There was barely anything he wanted more than to taste the scarlet liquid running through your veins, to have the undeniable taste of your humanity on his tongue.

What was seemingly an innocent walk along the stream in the forest had just turned into, quite possibly, one of the most satisfying feeds he’d had in centuries.

Minho sat on the ground, under one of the many trees that seemed to provide you two with an odd sense of privacy. Odd, because you were pretty much still in an open space.

Interestingly enough, even when Minho was a monster, he was still just as part of nature as you were, and, that night, all that booming life surrounding you in the forest simply protected you both; it let nature take its course.

With you straddling his lap, with one of his hands on the small of your back, and the other on the side of your neck, Minho pressed his lips to your pulse point, almost salivating at the minute thumps of your heart against his skin. You shivered in his hold, keeping your hands on his shoulders to maintain your posture.

“Do not make any sudden movements, darling. I do not want to hurt you…” He mumbled against the fragile skin, humming in satisfaction once you nodded. “If it becomes too much, say it. Or squeeze me if talking is too difficult, alright?”

You hummed, nodding again. Minho seriously hoped he’d be able to stop if you showed any signs of discomfort. He hadn’t had human blood in so long he wasn’t really sure how he’d react. Killing you was a very real possibility, he’d told you already, but you still wanted to go through with this. Being honest, he was just a weak man, incapable of passing up the opportunity when it was so boldly presented to him, even when it could possibly take your life.

So he delayed no further. He located the safest area he could on your neck, one where not too many important veins resided, and after a couple of tentative licks on your skin, his fangs enlarged. He lightly dragged them over your throat, letting you feel not only their presence, but also their sharpness.

“Take a deep breath. Do not move too much”, his voice was barely a whisper, but he knew you heard him clear as day.

As soon as you took that deep breath he’d asked you for, his teeth sank on your flesh, piercing the skin like it was a knife cutting room temperature butter. You didn’t move, but the moan that came out of your mouth was more than indication enough that you’d felt it all.

When your taste flooded his mouth, Minho couldn’t help but moan as well. It was all so much better than he had imagined. His whole body trembled, he felt as if he was burning up from the inside out in the best way possible, and he just closed his eyes to enjoy the taste of you.

What an absolutely delectable taste… So much so he had to remind himself to stop before it was too late. He was sure he had drank a bit too much for comfort, but you didn’t protest, you didn’t move one centimetre out of place, you just let him take as much as his heart desired, either because you trusted him that much, or because you had your own personal gains from this exchange–after all, no one just simply offered themselves to a vampire unless they had their own carnal reasons for it.

After soothing the pair of puncture wounds with his tongue, Minho finally pulled away from your neck to look you in the eyes. What he found was your blown pupils, your lips slightly parted as you took in ragged breaths, and even though his fangs were still very much at their full length, you immediately cupped his cheeks and pulled him in for a heated kiss.

It was messy, desperate, he was sure there was still some of your blood on his mouth that was now smearing all over yours, and he had to be careful not to hurt you with his teeth, but you didn’t seem to mind or care at all. You just kissed him like you needed him to breathe, and he let you indulge, mostly because he himself wanted nothing more than to have you as close as he possibly could.

Minho was constantly grateful that you’d crossed his path all those months ago, that you decided to move to this specific town in the first place. Not only did you let him drink your blood, but you also brought an irreplaceable spark to his lacklustre immortal life.

He tried not to think too much of the future, of the moment you’d inevitably pass away. There was no point in grieving this far ahead, he needed to remind himself that, yes, it would happen, but there were hopefully still many years before it did.

Enjoying the present was of the utmost importance. Especially when the present was you on his bed, with your legs over his shoulders and his mouth attached to your plump, warm centre.

All the sighs, and moans, and deep breaths, always reminded him you were here, you were his, and that you trusted him. You trusted him enough to bare yourself to him, to move in with him to his previously lonely manor in the outskirts of town, and to let him feed once a month from any area of your body he wanted to.

Feeding off of a human’s neck was usually the most traditional way, but when Minho found a suitable partner, he always liked to get creative. He’d admit there were spots he usually preferred, that he enjoyed much, much more than the neck. The softer the area was, the better. It was always much tastier, especially so once pleasure was coursing through his partner’s veins.

Thankfully for him, you had plenty of those softer, squishier areas, and you also had no reservations when he wanted to sink his teeth in them. He was trying his best not to get ahead of himself. Getting his fangs to their full length when he had his mouth between your legs was incredibly inconvenient, he genuinely didn’t want to hurt you, and he was certain that the sharp tip of his teeth would damage such a sensitive area of your body.

With a hand on your belly, and the other on your thigh, Minho let himself enjoy the taste of your arousal on his tongue. Your grip on his hair was tight, but you made no move to push him away; if anything, you were pulling him further into you, as much as he could be, keeping him there for as long as he’d let you.

Licking his way up to your clit, he sucked the sensitive nub into his mouth, parting his lips enough to flick it with his tongue. The moan of his name that spilled from your lips made his head spin. Your legs trembled with his motions, especially so when he finally brought his hand from your thigh close to your core to spread your juices with two of his digits.

Minho teased you for a bit, dipping just the tip of his fingers into you only to remove them a second after, increasing the pressure and pace of his tongue. At least, he tried to tease you… It was hard to do so when you begged so sweetly from him. Never in his long life had he enjoyed the sound of the word ‘Please’ coming out of someone else’s mouth as much as he did now, even more so when you called him your love, your darling, your heart.

My, my, my… Every time you addressed him as such he couldn’t help but feel the tiniest bit human again. If he had a working heart, he was sure he’d feel it swell in his chest. Yours, yours, yours… He was yours. For as long as you lived, he’d be yours.

When Minho finally stuffed those two digits within your warmth, the sight of your head falling back against the pillows was enough to let him know it was time. He was thirsty, and he was ready to give in to his primal needs.

He removed his mouth from your skin, but he kept massaging that sweet spot within your walls that had your toes curling with need. “Going to do it now, my love. Hm?”

You nodded. “Please, darling…”

Minho hummed, giving your clit one more affectionate kiss before he replaced his mouth with his thumb. If he could die, you’d be the death of him for sure.

He kept rubbing precise circles on the apex of your thighs, dragging his fingers within your clamping walls. At least, as precisely as he could while he attached his mouth to your soft tummy. Already, his fangs made an appearance, it didn’t take much for them to whenever he knew he was about to puncture your skin. It was second nature at this point.

Sometimes, Minho liked to start with your belly. Yes, start. He’d developed a bit more self control since he started to feed off of you, so he used that to his advantage, to feed off of as many parts of your body as he could.

When his teeth sunk on your flesh, you exhaled a shaky breath. Oh, how sweet you tasted whenever his fingers were on you like this. He could not only smell your arousal, but also taste it on his tongue when he started to drink you up. It was intoxicating, fulfilling, it was absolutely everything to him.

Before he could get carried away, Minho pulled away from your tummy, swiftly reattaching his lips to one of your thighs instead. He repeated the motions, puncturing your skin, drinking your essence, soothing the wounds with his tongue only to move along to the next area.

By the time he was full, you were trembling, whining, begging for your release. So he cleaned the remnants of your blood with the back of his hand before his lips found their way between your legs once again. Minho tried his best to will his fangs to decrease in size, at least enough for his own comfort. At this point, he was absolutely sure you wouldn’t mind, if anything, it’d probably turn you own, but he still wanted to be careful.

As soon as he started to suck on your swollen nub, as soon as the pace of his fingers increased, unintelligible noises of pleasure fell from your mouth. It didn’t take long for you to finally find your release, swearing and saying his name time and time again. Minho loved to feel your warmth around his fingers, especially as it spasmed with the aftershocks of your orgasm. Somehow, it always made him feel even fuller than when he fed.

When he was sure you’d enjoyed as much of your pleasure as you could, he finally removed his fingers, and he simply kissed his way up your body, until his lips finally found yours. You sighed, a content sigh that had him feeling tingly all over, just as you hugged him close to you and pressed tired kisses on his lips.

“Feeling fine, my dear?” Minho mumbled between kisses, relishing the fast pace of your heart against his chest.

“Mm… Just a bit lightheaded”, you mumbled back, dragging your fingers through his hair, making him shiver.

After a few minutes of kissing, of reassuring words against the other’s skin, Minho pulled himself away from your tight hug so he could fetch you some food. It was important for you to replenish your body, the healthier you were, the more he’d be able to feed, but most importantly, the longer you’d live.

As he fed you your meal, as he engaged in conversation with you, Minho reminded himself once again how important it was to live in the present, to not worry about the impending future of your relationship. You were on his bed, laughing, smiling, joking about how he’d almost made you a colander tonight, telling him story after story of odd encounters you had with your customers, and, for now, that was more than enough for him.

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chans-room · 5 months

Text

Stolen Sunshine

Pairing: Bang Chan × Non-Gendered Reader

Length: 10k

Rating: Mature/21+ | This fic is dark. Please read the warnings and make an informed decision on if you are prepared to read this fic. I am not including these warnings lightly because they are heavily featured in this fic.

Warnings: explicit and non-explicit smut, yandere vampire chan, vampire typical age gap, stalking, obsessive behavior, vampire mind control, non-con/dub-con, murder, major and minor character death, gaslighting, using fear to control/manipulate, mental instability, manipulation, forced siring, knives, blood, blood sharing, Chan and the reader injure themselves and each other in order to feed, delusional behavior, hunting, trauma, violence, needles, someone being kept against their will… you all get the idea lol... if i missed anything please let me know!!

Important! this is now a one shot so if you read the first part, Thorn Bitten, please be aware there is more! The new part starts after the second red divider!

Again: please heed the warnings! They're there for a reason.

Chan has been so lonely for so long. He was turned into a vampire so long ago and he's never even entertained the idea of turning anyone or trying to seek out other vampires. He is certain he's going to live in unhappy solitude… until he sees you. He's overcome by the desire and the hunger for you. You’re so achingly human; he doesn’t want to kill you he just wants you. He spends the next few months trailing you, finding out about your habits and your likes and your desires. You’re a rose in the eternal graveyard of his life.

He then quietly slips himself into your life — he goes from someone you happen to see around to someone who you’d consider a friend. You don’t question his horrific sleep schedule, or the fact that you generally only see him after dark; you’re just happy he’s in your life when you can see him. He tries not to be too overbearing, claiming you barely know each other and he’s sure you have other friends to see. He tells you he’s always been something of a loner, and being in a new city with his weird work schedule makes it hard to make friends. But you like him. He’s kind and funny and a little goofy, and he makes you laugh. You tell him that he can’t say he doesn’t have any friends because you’re his friend now.

But then he becomes more than a friend. The bar was crowded and one minute you were dancing with a stranger, and the next Chan was making you come apart on his fingers in the bathroom of the bar. He pulled you into his arms and when he kissed you, the world fell away. It was so easy to get drunk on him — the feeling of his arms around you, his hands wandering and groping and squeezing, the way he’d nibble on your lip. It was addicting.

It started a whirlwind romance; he’d basically taken up residence in your apartment after the first two weeks. You didn’t know it was possible to be romanced in the way Chan does. You came home to roses — the thorns always meticulously removed — and dinner, or a new outfit and shoes, or tickets to an event you’ve been discussing almost every night.

And he was incredible in bed.

Attentive, passionate, talented, and fully focused on your pleasure. He gave you head with a carnality you weren’t sure someone could possess, like he wants to eat you whole. He throws you into mindless bliss multiple times before he’s satisfied, but even then there’s always a hunger in his eyes, turning them almost black. It’s flattering really.

Things begin to unravel when you meet up for drinks with a few of your friends. They text you the next day about how… off Chan is. They talk about how he stands unnervingly still, almost like a statue, and that to everyone but you, he is cold and closed off. And they say he stares at you, as if you’re the center of the universe but also sort of like a predator hunting his prey. You have no reason to doubt your friends, but you can’t help but feel protective of Chan. They just don’t know him like you do. They don’t see the man who brings home dozens of roses for you every week, each thorn removed so the sharp stems never kiss your delicate skin. But you also trust your friends.

And that night, you try to be more aware, more conscious of him. Instead of letting yourself drift into the abyss of passion and carnality that he brings you. He notices immediately that you aren’t giving into his charms the way you usually do; it puts him on edge. He can’t lose you. You’re the first tether to humanity he’s had in years. You’re his perfect rose, and now your friends are becoming nuisances. But they don’t know how good he is at pruning thorns now; he’s been doing it for months. And he can be much sharper than they could ever imagine.

So he asks you about it and makes sure to soothe your woes. Your friends must have just caught him in a weird moment. He isn't obsessed with you or anything, he just is really grateful that you're in his life. And his explanations make sense. You spend the rest of the night, and the weekend holed up in bed together after he runs out to get you some wine and dinner and a fresh bouquet of roses.

You text your friends the next week telling them to back off Chan. If they don't like him, that's fine, but that’s their problem and you’d appreciate it if they kept it to themselves unless it was something serious. They argue that it is but you won’t hear it.

Weeks go by, fully wrapped up in Chan. He finally brings you to his apartment, and a few days later suggests that you move in. Your lease is coming up so why not? Besides, your work cut back on your hours so you were about to be forced out anyway. With Chan’s constant reassurances that you wouldn’t be intruding, you agreed.

Once you move in things get more serious and you realize just how much of a recluse Chan is. He really is alone. No friends, no family, no one calls him and he works mostly for himself. And he hovers. You struggle to find it as flattering as it was before you moved in but now it just feels like you can’t get a minute alone. He’s always popping up around a corner, showing up unexpectedly at girls night, bringing more roses to your office.

It’s after your birthday, the last one you’d ever really experience, that everything goes from bad to worse. The day itself is lovely. You and your friends go out for dinner and you meet Chan at a bar for drinks. But the morning after, your friends send you pictures and you can’t help but agree; there’s something off about your boyfriend.

Neither you nor Chan are the focus of the picture, but he’s standing behind you, lurking over your shoulder, and he looks exactly like your friends described. He looks consumed… obsessed. And it settles on your skin in a cold sweat. It’s like something out of a horror movie. But the worst part is his eyes; they managed to catch the light in a funny way, the same way cats do. You can’t explain it but there’s a voice in the back of your head telling you to run. Far.

So you do; you pack up your things and your friends help you move out and they wait for you by the door while you break up with Chan. You try to be kind and explain how it was too much too soon and that you wanted to still be friends, but you needed space. And your heart broke when he cried and pleaded for you to stay with him. But his eventual acceptance gave you peace — he agreed he’d give you space but he promised you one thing: his love, eternally. You fought the fluttering in your heart as he said it, and left with your friends.

You didn’t see him for weeks after; but you felt like you’d always just missed him. The smell of his cologne hanging in the air, or the flash of a black beanie disappearing behind a corner, and the roses you saw everywhere. And they were everywhere. A random one on a wall you walked past home from work, a couple on the counter at your favorite coffee shop, a stray bud in the coat pocket of a stranger, a pair on the small table of the date you regret agreeing to. And all it makes you do is miss him more. Chan’s presence clings to you and you can’t help but feel like you made a mistake.

Especially now that your friends seem to be growing more and more distant. After your breakup, you saw them nearly every day. But now you’re lucky if you get a text in response. It feels like it’s been weeks since you’ve actually seen them. Their absence makes you miss him more. It gets hard to remember why you even broke up.

Then you see him. He’s standing in line at a coffee shop, twirling a rose between his fingers. He looks so lonely, so sad. You can't help but go up to him and ask how he’s been — and the way he looks at you makes you forget everything for a moment. He’s so… gentle, and kind, and you can’t help but melt when he tells you he’s been carrying around a rose every day just in case he runs into you. He asks you to get back together with him, and promises he’ll do anything you ask. He reminds you he promised you his eternal love.

But then you remember. Remember why you left. What made you run. And you apologize and slip out of the cafe, but not before he slips the rose between your fingers and you agree to see him again, maybe at the bar you went to for your birthday with your friends. He agrees and you leave. A thorn bites into your thumb as you walk out, making you drop it as the door closes behind you. And you miss the way his gaze shifts, the hunger in his eyes.

The next day, one of your friends is found dead in the park. Police said it was a random killing but it's weird that they were drained of blood. And you fall apart – none of your other friends answer your calls, and you have to brave your friend’s funeral alone. You don’t know why no one is answering until another one of your friends is found, and another after that, and so on until it’s just you. Only you left after a series of unbelievable accidents and suicides that don’t make any sense. It's nearly unbearable; you wish you had just one person with you, just one friend to help bear the weight of the grief. But everyone is gone.

Until you meet Felix. He just shows up one day as you wander home alone and brings light back into your life – he’s kind and friendly and helps you mend your heart. It’s easy to fall in love with him and you do. Chan was all obsession and passion and carnality; sometimes just being around him made you feel drunk and out of control. But Felix made you feel alive, truly alive.

You can’t help but compare them; you know it’s unfair. But Chan’s broad shoulders that made you swoon and feel small never gave you the same comfort Felix’s slight frame brought you. Or how Chan’s eyes would go dark and hungry every time he saw you, but Felix’s eyes lit up and almost sparkled every time he caught your gaze.

You and Felix had been walking home from your 6-month celebration when you ran into Chan again. As soon as he came around the corner your heart was in your throat. You should have known not to take that way back to Felix’s place – it was too close to where Chan lived and you had forgotten. And it was too late, too dark, too secluded. You felt trapped, and you knew Felix couldn’t tell how off Chan seemed. You never talked about him, you didn’t see a reason to.

It happened so fast you would never have been able to give the police a proper statement. One second, Felix was making a comment about how Chan needed to leave the past in the past, and the next, he was on the ground. Neck bent at an unnatural angle, lifeless eyes boring into yours from the ground as blood dripped out of his mouth onto the cement. The sickening crack echoed in your head as you stared at him, gasping for air. Trying to think, hell even trying to breathe, felt too complicated. The light in your world had gone out again. You couldn’t do anything but stare at him and hyperventilate until eventually the world went black.

When you came to, everything felt muted. You couldn’t figure out where you were, or where you’d been. You could vaguely remember that something awful had happened, but even that was out of reach. And then you saw them — hundreds if not thousands of roses covering every inch of the floor around the bed, all varying shades of red. It looked like a sea of blood. And then you remembered. Felix.

It couldn’t be real. Felix couldn’t be gone. It was just a dream. You curl into the bed, and look around and your heart softens. He’s not gone. He’s there next to you; asleep in your bed. You know it's him from the freckles that are spread across his shoulders and the soft blond hair that’s curling at the nape of his neck. You sigh and reach out to him but you freeze when your fingers meet his skin. He’s usually so warm, like sunlight lives inside him and radiates out. But he’s ice cold. That’s when you realize he’s not snoring like he usually does. Actually… he’s not breathing at all.

You can’t get away fast enough. The faster you get away from it the easier it’ll be to convince yourself it's not real. You just need to get away from it. Because it’s not Felix, your Felix. The cold thing in the bed next to you was just a thing. You know there's something you’re missing, a piece you’ve missed. You can’t remember how you got there or where you are or who would do something so horrific to you. To Felix.

You all but throw yourself out of the bed, not caring about the roses being crushed under you. But the thorns bite into the tender flesh of your bare feet, tearing into the soles like fangs. You vaguely register the pain from your ankle shooting up your leg; you look down and see the swollen, bloody bruise, but you can't’ remember where it’s from. It’s all too much and you can’t fight the scream that tears out of you.

And then he’s there. Chan with his dark eyes and looming, only now there’s no kindness in his gaze anymore — he looks down at you like you’re a pest he has to deal with. But then… he’s gone. It’s Felix, smiling wide and eyes crinkling at the corners as you fling yourself into his arms. He’s so warm and comforting. You barely even notice he doesn’t smell fruity and soft like he normally does.

He pulls you back into bed and into his arms, fussing over your wounds and scolding you for putting too much pressure on your injured ankle until he’s undressing you, desperate to make sure that there’s no other injuries scattered across your body. He’s more hurried and aggressive than normal, taking to nearly ripping your things off. But you can’t blame him. You need to feel him under your hands: real, alive… Still him.

You trace the lines of his face as he sinks into you, eyebrows furrowing. Something about his weight between your legs feels foreign. His presence is… broader than you remember. Felix is so slight, so thin. As fast as the feeling came, it disappeared, but you don’t dwell on it for long — you can’t with the tendrils of pleasure curling around you, threatening to drag you under. The whiplash of emotions makes you feel drunk, the world blurring and losing focus. Your head lolls to the side and for a second you think you see Felix’s unblinking eyes staring at you from the empty spot on the bed. Blood pooling under him. But you blink and it’s gone. You tear your eyes away and reach out to him, sighing when you feel his warm skin under your fingers.

You shake off what you’re sure was your lingering nightmare and refocus on him; the way his hands pin you to the mattress and skim over your skin like he’s trying to memorize you. You struggle to keep your eyes open as he pushes you further and further toward release. You haven’t felt this out of control since… You can’t remember. There was a time when this feeling was normal though, you remember that much. And the faint prickling of frustration brews in the back of your head but the sensation of Felix’s mouth sucking a bruise into your neck has all conscious thoughts falling away into nothingness.

You come undone with a scream, vision blurring, and you think you see a pair of black eyes hovering over you but when your vision clears, it’s Felix’s soft, dewy eyes staring back at you. An expression you’ve never seen on his face before. It reminds you of how someone else used to look at you. Who was it…? It doesn’t matter. Not when Felix is there, and he’s holding you so tight as he pulls you into a restful sleep.

You wake still wrapped in his arms, but you’re freezing. His arms feel like ice around you as you shiver and try to cuddle into him for warmth, but there’s something wrong. His body is too large, too muscular. His arm is tight around you like a vice, and when you look down at his skin you can’t see the constellation of freckles. Your heart is in your throat as you begin to thrash against his hold on you, but his deep voice rumbling behind you makes your heart calm. It’s him. You look again and you can see the marks splashed across his skin; you don't know how you didn’t see it before.

He helps you bandage your feet and ankle before carrying you to the kitchen and placing you on the counter. You blush and try to convince him to put some clothes on, or at least let you put some on, but he argues that there’s no one around to see so why does it matter? Plus, it’s dark out and your head is pounding; you feel like you haven’t eaten in days. You can’t remember the last time you ate, or had any water.

Wait. You’d gotten ice cream. Felix had convinced you to go after you had dinner. He’d bought you a cup despite insisting you didn’t need it. You can’t remember finishing it though. Something had happened, and you’d dropped it. How long ago was that? What made you drop it?

You gasp and nearly drop the glass of water when you feel his shoulders wedging between your thighs and his mouth on you; the world shifts on its axis and you feel yourself slipping back into the depths. His fingers dig into your thighs as he pleasures you. Your vision swims and you watch the hair between your fingers turn black, and the features on his face blur until they resemble someone else entirely.

You kept trying to place him — the name was on the tip of your tongue and there was something about him that made you want to run. The blinding fear started to slither up your spine, but you were already drowning. The pleasure building was impossible to avoid and your tongue felt like lead in your mouth — you couldn’t do anything except moan and scream as the wave of bliss crashed over you.

Black spots danced in your vision as you fought the panic attack and aftershocks of your orgasm. You tried to curl in on yourself, suddenly feeling too exposed by your nakedness. But his deep voice and strong hands caressing your calves settled your frayed nerves. His snickering laugh cut through you. He’d never done that before; he sounded so cruel — it made you feel small and silly.

Once your vision cleared you saw it was him, your Felix, shaking his head at you as you shrunk in shame. His hair was the same dusty brown you remembered, his eyes the same deep brown, his skin still smooth and unblemished, and the dimples you loved so much.

You told him what you thought you saw, and admitted you couldn’t remember the last time you ate, or what day it was. He just cooed at you before saying he’d go out and get you something to eat. The thought of him leaving set you on edge; there was something not safe. Something that happened. What was it? You tried to protest, but he simply waved you off. You tried to argue but he grabbed you by the shoulders and stared into your eyes, telling you not to move or make a sound until he got back.

With that he was walking away, leaving you there. You heard the door click shut and you tried to push yourself off the counter but your limbs wouldn’t cooperate. It was like your brain was disconnected from your body, unable to force yourself to do anything. And you were freezing again — the sharp, prickling sensation of goosebumps spreading across your body was the only thing that reminded you that you weren’t spontaneously paralyzed. Everything became overwhelming; the hard marble cutting into the backs of your thighs where they hung over the edge, your hips cramping from your poor posture, your elbows beginning to shake from bearing your weight.

You could feel the tear run down your face as you began to cry. But sound refused to come out of your throat. You try to scream but the most you can manage is a ragged gasp. Your lungs burn and you can barely see through the tears you can’t wipe away.

And then he’s back, and you can move again, and you can’t stop wailing in his arms. You don’t know what happened but it’s like you couldn’t breathe when he was gone, and never want him to leave your side again. You can’t explain what happened; how do you tell him that you couldn’t move and couldn’t scream and could barely breathe while he was gone?

But he soothes you and carries you back to bed, settles you against his chest and feeds you like a child as you hiccup and cry. He tells you that you must have had a panic attack while he was gone; it's the only explanation as to what happened. You’d never had one before, at least not like that. But you feel safe now, now that he’s back. His broad shoulders make you feel safe, protected in his embrace. He promises he won’t leave you like that anymore — that you never have to be scared and vulnerable when Channie is around. He’ll always keep you safe.

Your mind is swimming again as you let relief flood your nervous system. You had never felt so out of control, so disconnected from yourself. You were so grateful for him; Chan always took such good care of you. He’d always removed the thorns from your roses just to make sure you didn’t accidentally hurt yourself. No one had ever done that for you before. You drifted back into unconsciousness, smiling at the sight of the bouquet on your side table.

The next few days followed a similar pattern – you slept most of the day, waking every so often delirious and confused and alone, unable to move and overwhelmed by panic until he reappeared and calmed you down. You had concluded it was some sort of sleep paralysis, and it was worse during the day. The light streaming through the slivers of space your curtains provided were disorienting. And when he would appear, he’d snuff the remaining light and curl around you until the sun fully set beyond the horizon.

Nights became when you thrived. You felt human again shrouded in darkness — he was always by your side when you woke, curly chestnut hair falling into his dark eyes. He makes you cum until your vision blurs and then drags you up and out of bed, dressing you and pulling you out of your apartment. He supports your weight as you walk to the corner store, your ankle is healing but it needs more time. You and him collect all the items you need to make dinner before your hands begin to shake and your chest gets tight. The ice cream in the freezer reminds you of something, something bad.

He tucks you into his embrace and kisses your forehead, explaining to the kind, elderly shop attendant that you developed severe agoraphobia. He said it was due to an incident on the way home from your anniversary a few weeks ago. You try to remember what it was, but an image of a man with blond hair and freckles flashes through your mind and you nearly scream. He had done something to you, and you don’t want to remember anymore. But his name stabs through your consciousness; Felix. The name feels like acid in your brain, sending searing pain and memories of blood and violence through you like a bullet.

When you get home you ask Chan about him — you can’t remember but you’re so afraid. He tells you it’s not good for you to remember, but you push and he tells you that you were attacked when you were on the way to dinner. The sun hadn’t even set when he had attacked you. Chan had run into a shop to get you a bouquet, he’d forgotten to get you one for your anniversary. While you were waiting for him, a guy you’d dated, Felix, had been upset about you breaking it off with him and he had cornered you.

When he said it, it was like you were reliving it. The look of rage on his face, the knife, how your clothes had torn and the sharp rocks digging into your bare feet as you tried to run away. Blood on the pavement and spilled ice cream. A sickening crack and your screams bouncing off the buildings in the narrow corridor.

You couldn’t stop shaking as Chan recalled how he heard you scream from the street and ran out to find you running toward him, bloody and terrified, ankle nearly broken. That's when he tells you that the police still haven't found Felix — they think he skipped town.

The knowledge that he’s still out there sends you into a tailspin. You’re freefalling into terror and your only tether to reality is the dark brown eyes hovering over you and the hand on your face. You can’t hear his voice over the ringing in your ears, and before you finally fade you see him again. Lifeless eyes staring into yours, freckles contrast against pale, sickly skin.

You have more night terrors. Well, day terrors. A shred of light filtering into your room is enough to cause a desperate fear to erupt inside you. Sometimes when you wake up, you think you see Felix, just staring at you from the chair in the corner. But your mind has turned him into a monster. He’s begun to rot, wasting away into something more gruesome and horrific. You don’t know what’s worse — the moments when he’s so real in your dreams, or in the moments between sleep and wake when you think you see him decaying before your eyes.

But Chan is always there to put you back together. He wipes your tears and gives you solace in his arms. He whispers in your ear and quiets you until you feel steady again, then he covers your body with his and drives your nightmares away until you’re boneless, floating in ecstasy.

Until the night he isn’t. You wake peacefully for once, but the silence echoes in your apartment. You know Chan is gone from the absolute lifelessness of your surroundings. But then you see him. Sitting in the same chair he always does in your nightmares. But this time he’s not lifeless, decaying.

He’s real, and he has a knife.

You feel lightheaded from the fear, frozen in your spot in bed. You force yourself to move, pushing yourself out of the place that’s given you safety and onto the cold hard floor. Your ankle aches in protest, but you fight through it as you stand on shaky legs, baking yourself into the wall.

He glares at you, pushing himself out of his seat while you slide against the wall, inching toward the door. He takes one step toward you as you reach the opening, and you try to scream yourself hoarse. Sound refuses to come out of your throat; you can’t believe this is happening again. You fall to the floor in your attempt to escape him. You keep trying to ask him why he’s there, why he won’t leave you alone, but you can’t squeak out more than a gurgling gasp as you try to flee.

That's when he tells you.

At first he just wanted to have his chance to show you what you needed, who you needed. He killed your friends; all of them. He’d made sure to kill them in different ways so there would be no suspicion, staged some to look like suicides or accidents. He just wanted you back. But when you’d chosen Chan, he wanted you dead. He had planned on killing Chan as well; he had wanted you to be completely alone when he killed you, but he couldn’t pass up the opportunity to face you that night.

You couldn’t breathe as he explained it. Nothing made sense, and yet it all made too much sense now. Felix had been the cause of so much of your pain, and it had all been because he was punishing you for not choosing him. And now you were going to die because of him. You hoped Chan was safe, that he’d left before Felix had come in. You also prayed he’d be okay after finding your body — he loved you so much. Finding you would kill him, at least, you hoped it wouldn’t.

You barely felt it when the knife cut into your chest. Sliding cleanly between your ribs and puncturing your lung. Instantly, you felt like you were drowning, choking and gurgling on blood as you fell back onto the hardwood. Felix’s smirking face swirled in your gaze before he disappeared, and Chan’s face replaced his.

You tried to explain what happened, but it was too much. You couldn’t stop choking on the blood. Chan didn’t seem worried, he just stilled your frantic movements, and kissed your forehead. He whispered in your ear that he was going to save you, that you were ready now to be saved. You couldn’t understand what he meant, but it was getting harder to keep your eyes open. You felt him pull your body into his lap, and his lips on your neck, then a sharp, searing pain.

You felt as though your throat was being flayed open, muscles and veins on display but you couldn’t scream. Couldn’t move or think to force yourself to do anything. Simply blinding pain and horror. Then it felt like your blood was turned to molten lead, burning you from the inside out as it poured out of your open wounds.

And then it stopped. Time simply ceased to exist for a moment as the pain cleared. You opened your eyes and saw him smiling down at you. He looked so happy, but he had something streaking down his chin and neck, beginning to flake off. You realized it was blood, your blood.

He told you to save your energy, your body was still recovering. You couldn’t understand, but when you tried to speak, you could only take a rattling inhale. He warned you against trying to speak again — your throat had been torn open in the struggle and it was still healing. He told you to just listen to him, to let him explain.

He told you he had saved you — Felix had broken in while he had been out getting you more roses. He had punctured your lung and when he had gotten there you were drowning in your own blood. But Chan had made it back in time to get him off you and give you something that would save you, heal you. He said it would also change you. He said he’d had the same thing happened to him, but it would be okay, because he had been alone. And you had him. And you would always have him.

He tilted your head back and sank his teeth into his wrist, ripping into the flesh until blood pooled on the surface and down the sides. You struggled against him, but he was too strong. The liquid poured into your mouth and down your throat as you thrashed.

But then you tasted it. It was a supernova of sensation and you couldn’t get enough. Every nerve-ending in your body felt as though it was being set alight. It was more intense than any orgasm you’d ever had; endless waves of euphoria washing over you as the blood danced across your palate and his fingers brushed against your skin, trailing over you gently before skimming underneath your clothes.

You’re torn between screaming from your ravishment and latching harder onto his wrist as to not stop the flow of blood pouring into you. But Chan made the choice for you, pulling his wrist away as he forces you toward the edge of your orgasm, trailing his fingers lovingly down your neck. His fingertip swirls in the healing viscera at the side of your throat, smiling as he brings the bloody appendage to his lips. He sucks the pad of his finger into his mouth and you see the lights of a billion galaxies explode behind your eyes as you come apart.

You’re not sure how long you spend keening and shaking in his arms — it could have been minutes or hours — but he held you through it and explained the depth of his love for you. He had once promised you his eternal love and now you were going to receive it. You would never have to be without him again; your love was now preserved for all time.

You didn’t understand what he meant but you didn’t care. You were safe; Chan had saved you. Something you couldn’t describe crawled under your skin, it felt like something akin to power. There was an assurance you’d never felt before — you weren’t sure if it was Chan being there or if it was what he had done to you. Either way, you never wanted it to end.

—-----

The next few months passed as the previous few had — sleeping through the day and waking with the last rays of light. But sleep came much easier for you now. There were no more nightmares or sleep paralysis, just endless sleep in the arms of Chan.

You figured now that Felix had been dealt with, you were safe from him in both your waking life and your dreams.

And Chan had made your transition easy. You were already accustomed to spending your nights awake and your days asleep, but now it was more serious. He’d explained how the sunlight could burn you now, but how most windows filtered enough of the UV light to where you couldn’t feel it from indoors.

He still went out some nights just after the sunset. You hated when he was gone — it’s like you could feel him in your head whispering to you. Whispering his love, his devotion, his endless praises. You weren’t sure if it was real or some lingering hallucinations from before. It felt so wrong, so foreign; to have him in your head like that felt like a violation of something sacred, something yours. But you didn’t even know if it was real.

Then he would come home, bringing dozens of roses and you’d forget his voice echoing in your consciousness. He didn’t bother to take the thorns off anymore; he said you’d never have to worry about something as trivial as that bothering you anymore. You were stronger, he’d made you stronger. And you made him stronger too. That’s why you had to take care of each other.

That’s what he said when he pulled you into his lap and took your thorn-bitten fingers into his mouth, sucking the blood off your skin like it was honey, moaning and praising you as he did. The feeling of it was more erotic and sensual than anything you’d ever experienced. It felt like he was taking part of you and stitching it into his own being; it was the closest thing you’d ever experienced to divinity.

And then he’d dig the tip of a knife into his palm, allowing the blood to pool as you salivated, watching it slide down his wrist as he held you in place. He talked about how you needed to learn control and restraint if you ever wanted to go outside again, but you could barely hear him over the smell of his blood invading your senses.

The cloyingly sweet, sticky scent permeated your brain and rendered it useless — your entire universe was reduced to the palm of his hand and the weeping fluid coming out of it. And then he would let you go, your lips immediately latching onto the cut, slowly stitching itself back together in front of your eyes. You kept waiting for the effect to wear off, the same way that a drug is never as good as the first time and you spend the rest of your life chasing that high; but it was the same every time. It was transcendent; you had never felt more connected to another person, to the world.

You could feel his consciousness brushing against yours, your souls intertwining. It was overwhelming enough without Chan pushing himself into you, but it always made it better. You would come undone with his blood smeared across your chin, streaking down your neck and across your chest; and yours staining the recesses of his mouth, along with the dotted fingerprints your healing flesh left behind on his face and neck.

You were addicted to it, to him. You would have done anything to stay holed up in your apartment, feeding on each other, fucking, and spending the next few hours basking in the afterglow. You barely felt the shallow cuts Chan littered across your bare skin while you came down, the world muted in a hazy golden light. The only reason you knew what was happening was the lingering feeling of his thoughts folding into yours; his devotion, obsession, love. But you couldn’t blame him — you felt the same way.

It was six months before he had decided it was time you leave your apartment, claiming you needed to reacquaint yourself with the world again. He told you that you’d be moving soon — you couldn’t stay much longer; there would always be a 5 year clock ticking down once you moved somewhere new. He also said the time would pass like minutes to you now, and you believed him. 6 months had passed in the blink of an eye — you could hardly believe that you broke up with him more than a year ago.

Wait. You’d never broken up with him. He was your Chan, the love of your life. There was never a reason to break up with him. You’d broken up with Felix. That’s right. You barely remembered him anymore, now that he didn’t plague your nightmares. You were only reminded of him when Chan traced his tongue along the faint scar that sat between your ribs, the place where he would whisper his apologies as he held you in his arms.

The first time he successfully dragged you out of your apartment, you nearly had a breakdown in the lobby of your building. You weren’t used to the world anymore; too much light that made your eyes water, too many sounds that bombarded your sensitive eardrums, too many scents that burned your sinuses like acid. But the worst part was the feeling of being exposed. The feeling of being surrounded by so many people, when your world had been reduced down to you and Chan was overwhelming. But he was there, holding your hand and whispering reassurances into your ear.

Before you’d walked out of the apartment, he had warned you not to get too close to strangers. He said you might have trouble controlling yourself around them. He wasn’t clear why you’d have trouble but you agreed; you had no desire to interact with anyone but him. But with the days getting shorter, there were more and more people out and about after sunset, and you had lost Chan in the market, his hand slipping out of yours and before you knew it you were surrounded. A sea of faces all blurring together but the worst part was the smell of them.

Rotten. Stale. Some were too sickly sweet it made you gag and some were so bitter you had to breathe through your mouth, but somehow it only made it worse. You could feel their scents decaying in your palate. You fought the urge to vomit as you pushed your way past the crowd, finally being able to take a breath after you made it to freedom. That’s where Chan found you, resting against the wall in a secluded alleyway, breathing heavily and trying to settle your churning stomach.

He was frantic when he found you; his hands shook as he held your face in his hands, inspecting your features before crushing you against his chest. He sings your praises, whispering in your ear about how impressed he was by you. You couldn’t understand what he meant, but you didn’t care. The smell of him washed over you and muted the scent of everyone else. Your nose cradled in the juncture of his neck made your mouth water. Your teeth scraped across the thin skin reveling in the faint line of blood that bloomed on the surface of his skin, shivering as it spread across your tongue.

The sensation of having Chan in your head grew almost deafening. It was so overwhelming you couldn’t focus — and in the next moment, you were staring at the ceiling of your apartment, gasping for air, holding onto the mass of curly hair between your legs. You didn’t know how you’d gotten there; you tried to sort through your memories and remember, but it was a void. And the waves of pleasure building made it hard to focus. You decided to drop it, giving into the sensations, your eyes sliding shut in mindless bliss. But then…

Freckles, and sunshine, a bright smile and warm brown eyes, small, soft hands and tender fingers, a thin waist and small shoulders. The feeling of safety but not in the way you’d experienced in the last year. It was something more gentle and trusting — it was the knowledge he’d always support you, but never limit or hide you. The details washed over you like a tidal wave. Felix.

Then a crack, screaming, and those same eyes, dead and unseeing staring back at you. Blood pooling underneath his open mouth.

You gasp, pulling yourself away. You couldn’t make sense of what you had imagined. Felix wasn’t soft — he’d been possessive, rough. He killed your friends and he had planned to kill Chan. He’d been the one to end the life you used to know. Wasn’t he?

You couldn’t make sense of it, and you sat up to question Chan about it. But he was staring at you from the foot of the bed, head tilted to the side and his eyes darkening. You felt a familiar chill run down your spine as you stared at him. Your chest felt tight and the feeling of being cornered washed over you. The only thing your brain could formulate was run.

You pushed the thought away; you couldn’t run. Chan was your protector. He loved you. Why would you run from him? But there was something you were missing, something you couldn’t unravel in your mind. You fought the anxiety swelling in your chest and snuffed it out, letting your body relax under his hands as you sigh and apologize. His fingertips dug into your thighs as he chuckled and let his head hang, shoulders sagging in relief as he sinks back into you, whispering in your ear about how he thought he was going to lose you.

You couldn’t shake the terror that gripped you. It wasn’t until the sun began to rise and Chan fell asleep against your chest that you allowed yourself to breathe fully. The immediate fear had subsided, and you felt your control over your mind returning.

You hadn’t felt so clear in months and you weren’t sure how you didn’t realize it until now; it was as if you’d been sleepwalking for months and now you had finally woken up.

Everything felt different. It was like you’d gotten a massage; your body was completely relaxed. No aching muscles, no joint pain, no lingering soreness. You weren’t even tired. You felt like you could run a marathon without breaking a sweat; but the best part was the silence. It felt like you were finally alone in your brain again. No Chan brushing up against your consciousness, no having to worry about what he’s going to say or think about the microexpressions you make, no haze caused by the blood or your orgasms. It gave you time to sort through all of the questions you–no… Not you. Chan. You finally allowed yourself to consider all the questions that Chan had shoved into the recesses of your brain.

Fractured memories started filtering through your mind — the ones you thought were real, but the more you prodded at them, they began to corrode and melt away into the bitter truth that had been hidden from you.

Chan had killed Felix that night in the alleyway. He’d snapped Felix’s neck without hesitation and brought you home with his corpse and used his image to manipulate you. To make you his again. But this time you were never getting away from him. He’d made sure of that.

You came to the horrific realization that he had stolen sunshine from your life; not only were you now doomed to spend eternity in the shadows, but he’d taken Felix from you, and then corrupted the only pieces of him you had left. Your memories.

You fought the desire to scream as you realized you were trapped in the arms of his murderer. Your murderer.

You didn’t have time to panic — you needed to plan. If you were going to run it had to be planned perfectly; Chan wasn’t just your maker, he’d also forced himself into your mind. And you knew how paranoid he could be. You spent the next few weeks carefully guarding your thoughts — making sure you didn’t flinch from his touch or shy from his affection. He had to think you were completely committed to him. And it wasn’t hard to do; when Chan was awake, you could barely remember why you wanted to leave, and your memories of Felix faded into the abyss. But when he fell asleep, Felix haunted you. You couldn’t stop yourself from pouring over every detail of your life with him, over his death, piecing together the fragmented memories. They made you sick to think about.

It was like you were living in two realities. Your nights were rose-tinted and hazy, full of lust and blood slipped between your lips and Chan’s, and your days were gray and harsh, sharp like the knife Chan had slid between your ribs. It was becoming harder to forget. And each day Chan was planning your move together even more. Once he faked your death, something he said was necessary, you knew it’d be harder to leave him.

But every day the thought of leaving him got harder. And it was because of the blood. You were beginning to suspect you were addicted to it – you craved it desperately. There was an ache for it in your veins, in your mind, and in your soul. But even more distressing, his blood was the only thing you could stomach.

The smell of anyone and anything else was revolting. He had brought home a blood bag after an outing one day, saying he just wanted to test a theory, and you couldn’t even stay in the same room with it after he had ripped the top off. And being in public felt like torture. Their scents burned your nose and throat, made your head throb painfully, and churned your stomach violently. You had nearly passed out in the small market due to the overwhelming nature of it.

Chan had successfully made you entirely dependent on him. During the night, the idea of it sat in the back of your mind and sulked, but during the day, the awareness of it felt like a forest fire of rage and grief. You hated that sometimes you wished you could just ignore what he’d done and move on. But every time you tried to let it go, you remembered his eyes; dead and lifeless on the ground. Light snuffed out permanently.

But he still called to you, his blood called to you. You could nearly hear it sing under his perfect, smooth skin. It invaded your senses and made you unable to focus. His blood was the epicenter of your focus, even in the clarity of day.

The days and nights slunk by the same as usual; you woke up to Chan’s face buried in your neck and hands skimming over every inch of your naked body, he would give you his blood and make you cum until you were floating in a sea of blissful nothingness, and then while you swam in your comedown, Chan would disappear into the darkness of night after dropping a kiss to your forehead. After regaining sensation in your toes and full function of your brain, you were left to aimlessly wander around your apartment, waiting for him to return. You carefully avoided thinking of anything that would incriminate you as his time away grew steadily longer and longer until he began returning nearly at sunrise when he’d produce yet another bouquet of roses, a different color each day, and take you back to bed where he’d sink onto his knees between your legs until he passed out on your chest from exhaustion.

Everything seemed normal until it wasn’t.

You smelled it before he had made it to your floor. Blood. So much blood. Not only his, but someone else’s. Foul and sickeningly sweet, coating your senses. It was like a blanket in your mind; you could barely hear yourself think. The effects only got worse the closer it got until you heard your front door open. It was blinding; your vision swam and you fought the urge to gag.

Chan smiled at you as he shut the door behind him, as if he wasn't carrying a body over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. He explained that today was the day; you’d be leaving tonight. He dropped the body unceremoniously on the floor as you struggled to breathe.

They were obviously dead — you could tell because of the almost stale undertone of their scent; but your brain struggled to understand why they were on your living room floor. And why Chan seemed so nonplussed about it. Then it hit you; he had killed them to fake your death. You wanted to cry — they had a life, someone who loved them, and now they were dead because of Chan, because of you. Just like Felix.

Something in you snapped. You didn’t know where you had gotten the knife from, or what you had planned to do with it, but one minute you were crying over the corpse of a stranger, and the next, Chan was pinned to the floor underneath you with a knife in his chest. He just smiled at you as he struggled. You didn’t stop to think, you just ran, grabbing the backpack Chan had packed with your essentials off the floor as you sprinted out the door into the night.

You could still feel him in your head, but only a whisper. You did your best to block him out, gaining your bearings as you weaved through the empty alleyways toward the train station. He’d planned everything — there was an excess of cash, new passports with new names. With each step, you built a wall in your mind that Chan couldn’t climb, couldn’t crumble, couldn’t force through. You needed to be free of him, if not just for your sake, for the sake of everyone else.

It kept you afloat for months, skipping from city to city. You fed only on blood bags when you could stomach them, which wasn’t often. And everything would be fine until you woke up with his voice whispering in your head — and the smell of his blood floating in the air. You would leave that day, scrubbing every trace of yourself from the city as you left.

It worked well enough for a while, but the time you had in each place seemed to get shorter and shorter, and your bag got lighter and lighter. You had started using your abilities to assist you; you would go to the fanciest bar you could find and try to pick out the ones with money to spare. And then after a bit of flirting, you’d compel them to walk with you to the nearest ATM and hand you a modest amount. You never took more than they’d miss, and that alone made you feel less guilty.

You were nearly to the point of compelling your latest target; one of the youngest you’d met and undoubtedly the richest. But he was also the kindest; he almost made you wish things were different. That you were different. He was giggling at a joke you made when you smelled it. Smelled him.

He grinned at you from across the bar and you felt your world shift — the thick fog of his blood settled on your mind and your vision blurred around the edges. You hadn’t realized how hungry you were until that moment. But then his focus shifted to the man next to you. The soft, kind stranger who didn’t deserve whatever Chan had planned for him.

But you knew he was careful; he would never be so rash as to expose himself in such a busy place. And you knew he’d follow you, wherever you went. So you slipped out, lingering long enough to catch his sight as you left. You could smell him trailing you as you slithered down alleyways and through crowds until you were cornered.

You hadn’t meant to get cornered — his blood was so distracting you had forgotten entirely where you were supposed to go. But it was better than letting him get a hold of your date from the bar. His voice was so loud in your head. And the blood; just being near it made your jaw ache and your throat dry.

He had you again; hands on your waist possessively as he pressed you against the wall, your head smacking into the hard cement painfully. But it was nothing compared to the feeling of his fangs tearing into your neck.

The walls in your mind fell around you; he had forced his way back in as your body grew limp. His voice echoed and trembled as he poured his rage and anxiety into your mind, so loud you couldn’t hear yourself at all. He was so upset at you for leaving him, and jealous you’d turned to anyone but him for help, but most of all he was relieved to have you back in his arms.

You almost felt bad, but slipping the needle into his neck was so easy he barely felt it. Not until the effects started to take hold. Pretty soon, he was on the ground, staring up at you with a look of hurt. True, genuine hurt. He hadn’t even looked so upset when you had stabbed him all those months ago.

You told him not to worry; you’d never get rid of him. He merely needed some time to adapt to your new life together.

It’s where you find yourselves now; Chan pleading for you to free him, to let him take care of you how he did before. He hates the red neon lights that illuminate his room after the sun sets, after you leave. It reminds him of your blood. He craves it desperately, and you keep him ever so desperate. He has enough to stay alive, to stay sane. But not enough to fend off the weakness that’s settled into his bones.

You remind him that he has to earn your trust after everything he’s done, but thankfully he has an eternity to prove himself to you. Because as addicted to you he may be, you’re equally dependent on him. His blood still sings to you in a way not even Changbin’s, your new lover, does. And you know you’ll never change him, even though it could be the replacement you desperately crave. Changbin doesn’t deserve the suffering though.

But you and Chan do — so much death, just because of the two of you. It’s why you know you might never release him from the chains. Why he’ll never be truly free again. You won’t be either. He would kill any and everyone if it meant he could keep you to himself. And despite yourself, you still love him, in a way. The thought of being tied to him for all eternity brings you comfort. And you know he knows it. He’s still in your mind, even if it’s just a whisper. And you’re in his.

It’s why you keep him how you do. You can hear the ugly, possessive, murderous thoughts that run through his head when you leave. You hold out hope as you clean his blood off your mouth that he’ll learn some control, in time. And thankfully you have an abundance of it, but you won’t waste any more of it on him tonight. He’ll see you again before sunrise, when you return from your night with Changbin.

At least when you’re away you can pretend to be normal. Pretend your ex-boyfriend slash lover slash maker isn’t locked in a room in your apartment that could withstand a nuclear fallout. Pretend you weren’t a murderer. Pretend you weren’t still maybe in love with a murderer. The one person who’s caused you more than a lifetime of pain.

And Chan will complain about how you reek of him, sex, and alcohol. And you’ll soothe him with your thorn bitten finger tips pressed to his tongue as you sink onto his cock, making sure he drifts into bliss as the first rays of light break across the horizon and you both fall into an easy sleep with the knowledge you both are getting what you really want.

Chan has you. And you have Chan…

Right where you want him.

Taglist: @kiestrokes @eureka-its-zico @j-a-nuary @minttangerines @minisugakoobies @bibbykins

#yandere vampire chan #vampire bang chan #yandere bang chan #bang chan smut #dark bang chan #skz smut #skz yandere #skz vampire #skz bang chan #stray kids smut #stray kids yandere

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arteastral · 5 months

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Smells Like Teen Spirit (1991) 🧛🏻‍♀️🦇🌙🩸🖤

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aphroditelovesu · 1 year

Note

Please excuse me, but the links on your masterlists aren't working. Maybe you could redo the links?

Of course, I don't know why they're not working and I'll fix them soon, but for now I'll leave the links here, I hope it works this time:

Yandere BTS Masterlist

Yandere BLACKPINK Masterlist

Yandere ITZY Masterlist

Yandere Stray Kids Masterlist

Yandere Greek Mythology Masterlist

Yandere Egyptian Mythology Masterlist

Yandere Historical Characters Masterlist

Yandere TVD/TO Masterlist

Yandere House of the Dragon Masterlist

Yandere Percy Jackson Masterlist

Yandere Harry Potter Masterlist

Yandere Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug and Cat Noir Masterlist

Yandere Attack on Titan Masterlist

Yandere Marvel Masterlist

Yandere The Sandman Masterlist

Yandere Outlander Masterlist

Yandere Wednesday Masterlist

Love Letters Masterlist

New Masterpost here

If any of the links aren't working (within each masterlist), let me know. Last time I checked just now they are all working fine.

~ Lady L

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yeahspider · 11 months

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whoa (mind in awe)🕸️

Ve’s note - hyunjin x f.vampire au . sfw but there are mentions of blood and biting because yk vampire . honestly this fluff with a supernatural twist. sorry for being inactive for so long school is draining but I'm back and taking requests for hard and soft thoughts/ headcanons/ prompts all that good stuff. not proofread ofc. might do a part 2 but only if it’s requested :) enjoy my bees ! <3

"I'm still not understanding why you have to feed from other people when I'm right here." hyunjin stated with his signature pout as you came home a little late from a feed. You and Hyunjin had been dating for a while, and you never hid who you were from him. You were soulmates, after all, bound to be together. After 450 years on this earth by yourself, you were ecstatic to find your mate in the form of the handsome painter who was in love with you at first sight.

He walked up to you and draped his arms around your body. as you took off your coat. Seeking comfort in the warmth of his mate. Hyunjin never flinched at the sight of you after a feed. In fact, he took it in stride. His only issue was that you fed on other people instead of him. Deep down, he was jealous; what was so different about him that his partner had to outsource to keep herself fed. You always assured him he wasn't the issue, but he couldn't stop his inner securities from taking over sometimes.

"I've already told you thousands of times why hyune. It's not safe. I could hurt you." You said as you took a deep sigh and breathed in his scent. Oranges and spring water. You welcomed his scent after being around other people and their smells all day.

Your statement caused a frown on his face, and you immediately wanted to wipe it off. You hated being the reason why he experienced any negative emotions. He grabbed your hand and led you to the bed, motioning you to sit down. Hyunjin didn't say anything for a while as he removed your heels from your feet. Once he had successfully removed your shoes, he rubbed your legs, easing any tension you had in your body from the day. You looked down from where he knelt at your feet, his beautiful eyes simultaneously speaking so many words.

'You could never hurt me, my love. Never in a million years." Maybe it was his hands on your body, the warmth radiating from his veins, warming your insides, or the sincerity that bled from his words. He indeed believed what he said. Hyunjin believed in you. In a way that no one ever has.

"Okay." you said simply as you connected your hands with his. The smile on his face was enough to make your dead heart start pumping again. If he believed in you, then you could believe in you.

#stray kids fanfic #stray kids imagines #stray kids reactions #stray kids scenarios #stray kids x reader #yeahspider #stray kids headcanons #stray kids fluff #stray kids smut #hwang hyunjin x reader #hwang hyunjin x you #hwang hyujin imagines #hwang hyunjin fluff #vampire skz #hwang hyunjin smut #skzsupernaturalau

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frenchkisstheabyss · 9 months

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♡ 𝖇𝖊𝖋𝖔𝖗𝖊 𝖎'𝖒 𝖉𝖊𝖆𝖉 ♡

♡ Pairing: vampire!bang chan x chubby!fem!reader

♡ Summary: When playing with devils you must be careful not to become one yourself. Unless, of course, you want to...

♡ Genre: smut/angst w/ horror elements

♡ Word Count: 1.6k-ish

♡ Warnings: blood, biting, discussion of violence/death, unprotected sex (the man's literally dead though so, like...), reader death (only on a technicality. you're fine)

Limbs scattered through garbage-riddled alleys. Intestines strung from archways like streamers for some grand party. Bodies drained of blood. Husks of what they once were. Unrecognizable to even those closest to them.

What kind of monster could do such a thing? Despite the police department’s best efforts, the culprit that terrorizes the city, snatching victims in the darkest crevices of the night, remains a mystery to them. To everyone. Everyone, that is, but you.

You know for a fact that the shadow looming at the end of your bed, this creature masquerading as a man, is responsible for these atrocities and, with the exception of a few unfortunate souls, he carries little remorse about what he’s done.

Chan honors your request not to hear the gory details of what he does but it’s difficult to escape them. It’s all over the news and social media. Your coworkers won’t shut up about it. It’s enough to make you sick to your stomach. Enough to make you never want to lay eyes on him again.

But when he appears in your apartment tonight, the same as he has countless nights before, his eyes shimmering pools of black, he awakens something inside of you that makes your knowledge of what he’s done as hazy as a bad dream. You watch as he steps into the soft light cast through your window by the full moon.

Chan’s breathtakingly handsome, gifted with a body built for sin and bone structure to die for. It’s almost as if his maker crafted him for the express purpose of getting you to compromise your mortal soul. Chan laughs, cracking a devilish grin, “It’s a little too late for that isn’t it, my love?” You crawl to the middle of the bed, sitting with your legs tucked beneath you.

“Too late for what?” He comes face to face with you, the razor-sharp tips of his fangs glinting in the moonlight. “The whole ‘compromising your mortal soul’ thing.” Chan pinches one of your fluffy cheeks, his full lips pressing a kiss to your forehead. “You’re damned. The same as me.” A chill blows through you, the kind that whistles through long abandoned caves, at the thought that he might be right.

You shake it off, nervously running your fingers across the intricate lacing at the breast of your sheer black nightgown. “We are nothing alike” you snap, “And stop reading my mind!” Chan backs away from you, discarding what’s left of his clothes, and, ignoring your wish for your thoughts to remain untouched, listens in on the filth that lurks in the back of your mind when you see how hard you’ve gotten him.

That is why you wore something see-through, isn’t it? To tempt him with your lush breasts and the stiffening buds at their peaks. You know how ravenous it makes him to have free access to the softness of your stomach. To see your pillowy thighs grow even thicker when you sit the way you do now.

You intended to send all of the blood rushing through the veins that travel along his thick, lengthy cock. Craved the sight of it, without even the most fleeting concern for whose blood it actually was. You blink and he’s behind you on the bed, his nails carefully shredding your nightgown to pieces.

The fabric melts down your body as smooth as butter. Chan takes your breasts into his hands, caressing them as he kisses your neck. “Tell me you want me to leave and I will.” Your head falls back on his shoulder, arms reaching back, fingers threading through his hair.

The coldness of his body battles the warmth of yours, a dynamic that has you sweating and shivering all at once. “Just say it,” he whispers, his right hand kneading your gentle form as he works his way down to your thighs, effortlessly parting them.

“You want my help?” he asks, lightly squeezing your clit between his pointer and index fingers, “Repeat after me.”

“I…”

“I…” you whine, gripping his hair tighter.

“Want…”

“You…”

“You...”

Chan dips his hand further between your thighs, muscles flexing beneath his skin as his fingers curve into you. “I want you” he hums, fangs pricking at your neck just enough to leave a mark without drawing blood. You repeat after him, word for word, “I want you. I want you. I want you.” The “to leave” is silent. Nonexistent.

You’ve considered many times asking him to leave before things went too far but you never had the strength, or the sincere longing, to do so. Chan can do so much more than read your mind. He can read your body like one would their favorite book. He knows that if he rotates his fingers just…like…this, it’ll tug at the most sensitive parts of you, making your pussy weep.

Chan plants kisses along your jawline, trailing up to your ear. “I want you too. Not just now,” he confesses, “Forever.” It’s a simple word, “forever”, but the emphasis placed upon it speaks volumes of his feelings for you. “Me too,” you say, not even thinking, only feeling. “I can make it that way, you know. I could…” The implication breaks you free of whatever spell you’re under.

You twist out of his arms, pulling the blanket over your naked body more for comfort than anything else. “Chan, you can’t be serious.” There’s that glint in his eye again, only this time it’s all his doing, the idea of turning you exciting him more than his last kill. “Why can’t I be serious?” he asks, climbing on top of you, his arms caging you in, “Tell me you've never thought of it.”

You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t and, under the circumstances, it’s not even worth it to attempt to lie. At one point you harbored such a thirst for life but somewhere along the way, in a place that you can’t quite pinpoint, you lost it. Everything became dreary. Repetitive. Monotonous. Life lacked excitement. It lacked color. Nothing made you feel truly alive anymore.

Then came Chan. The spark that reignited the flame. You often wonder what it might be like to have the freedom that he does. The power. To have access to things far beyond the reach of humans. But what he does to those people you could never bring yourself to do. Chan slips the covers from between you, reuniting his body with yours. Bringing your legs around his waist, he brushes the tip of his cock between your folds.

You grip his shoulders, nails digging into his skin. You’re still so wet. Maybe wetter. “You’ll never have to” he promises, “ I’ll do it. All of it. Feed you. Care for you. I just, fuck, I want you more than anything.” Chan bucks his hips, sinking into you. You hiss at the stretch, your back arching as your walls swallow him deeper. It’s only been 24 hours since he last made love to you but it’s felt like a lifetime.

You wanted him….needed him…so badly. Each stroke is more intense than the last, satiating your thirst for more pressure each time he bottoms out. Your moans are as close to heaven as he’ll ever be. He kisses you passionately, capturing them with his tongue. This is the best you’ve felt all day. It’s the best you ever feel. Being in his arms, his lips pressed to yours, is indeed something you can never imagine losing.

“Will it hurt?”

Chan shakes his head, biting his lip as you clench tighter. “Never…mmm…hurt you.” “Then do it” you mewl, eyelids fluttering, defenses crumbling. The bed creaks as his thrusts quicken, the legs of the mahogany bedframe scratching at the floor. 200 years of lovers and no one’s even come close to feeling this good wrapped around his cock. You’re so vulnerable, so trusting, so fucking beautiful that he can’t waste another second not having secured you as his.

Baring his fangs, he sinks them into your neck. You gasp at the force of the impact but the bite itself merely tickles, undetectable when paired with the frenzy of butterflies in your stomach. Chan brings his wrist to his mouth, making a small incision with one of his fangs. Your lips part knowingly, suckling at the wound when he presents it to you. Blood coats your tongue, a crimson copper-laced treat running down your throat.

There’s something in it, something special, that strengthens the floral scent of your perfume. It’s overpowering. Dizzying. Everything’s louder. The cars zipping by on the streets. The sounds of grasshoppers and cicadas calling their mates in the neighboring park. Your vision sharpens, and corners of your room previously dominated by darkness are now bright as day.

And you feel. Oh, you feel everything. You’re in tune with every aspect of your nervous system. This level of awareness is mind-numbing but you don’t want it to stop. Your breath catches, your orgasm arriving with such ferocity that your nails slice into his skin. “That’s it” he coos, “You’re all mine now so come for me. Just for me.” He says it like you have an option.

Like there’s anything you can to do stop yourself from unraveling, the juices flowing from your core like a river. You scream louder than you ever have. The only discernible word is his name, said over and over until your body’s too spent to even say that. Chan kisses up and down your body, whispering to you in a language unknown to you before but somehow understood fluently now.

He’s praising you. Worshipping you. Swearing to honor your bond forever. To him, you’ve always been breathtakingly beautiful, gifted with a body built for sin and curves to die for. It’s almost as if your maker crafted you with the express purpose of tempting him to corrupt your mortal soul. What a sweet thing it was to destroy.

#bang chan x female reader #bang chan x y/n #bang chan x you #bang chan x reader #bang chan au #stray kids x you #stray kids smut #stray kids x thick reader #stray kids x chubby reader #stray kids x y/n #chubby reader #stray kids vampire au

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backformores · 1 year

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[210912] thunderous ✦ felix

#skz #stray kids #bystay #felixleenet #felix #this is the last of the felix gifs i have saved up bfmsbksbfks #not the prettiest gifs but vampire felix......#this week gonna be a grind at work so hopefully i can work on the skz anni gfx i wanted to do #but alas prob no time for giffies until then #lua gifs

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sunboki · 6 months

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vampire! minho who has the best time teasing you. who, upon riling each other up, gets a stupidly smug grin because he can hear your heartbeat, hear the rapid thundering when his kiss lingers close to your pulse point, when goosebumps climb your arms.

his favorite has to be if you deny his effect on you despite your skin being flushed, lips parted all swollen and puffy from his pointed teeth’s soft nipping.

not to mention make-outs, because god does minho send you straight to euphoria without having to take a single article of clothing off.

you’re rocking in his lap needily, his name whispered between each breath. he seems to devour you whole, effortlessly consuming you in every ethereal way. cold fingertips slip beneath your top, teasing the clasp of your bra temptingly.

and it’s not until a whine sounds against his lips does he separate, nearly-red eyes blown with unadulterated lust, leaving minho to stifle a quiet “fuck” before delving right back in.

nonetheless, he drags out a lot more than whine by the time morning comes.

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duchesst0mat0 · 9 months

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straylightdream · 1 year

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when night comes - 𝔠𝔬𝔫𝔰𝔲𝔪𝔢

COMING SOON

A connecting series of vampire au stories with stray kids. They can be read all together or as one shots. I’m planning to write for all the boys this is just the ones I have ideas for.

All of these will be 18+ stories with sex and mentions of blood.

an: some of these ideas might change. This is just what I have writing ideas for and working on outlines for.

If you would like to be tagged please fill out this form.

𝐬𝐞𝐨 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐛𝐢𝐧

𝔣𝔯𝔬𝔪 𝔢𝔡𝔢𝔫

↳ He desperately craved normalcy, and you made him feel human again.

𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧

𝔪𝔢𝔡𝔦𝔠𝔦𝔫𝔢

sugar daddy au

↳ Low on cash and out of luck you find a source for easy money. Your willing to be a human blood bag if you can afford to live again.

𝐥𝐞𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰

𝔱𝔢𝔢𝔱𝔥

enemies to lovers / stripper reader

↳ You’re in a never ending cycle with a man who likes the taste of your blood.

𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐣𝐢𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐠

𝔦𝔣 𝔴𝔞𝔩𝔩𝔰 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔩𝔡 𝔱𝔞𝔩𝔨

Forbidden love au / runaway au

↳ he’s fallen head over heels for you when you’re father will do anything to stop you from being with him.

𝐡𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐲𝐮𝐧𝐣𝐢𝐧

𝔧𝔲𝔰𝔱 𝔞 𝔱𝔬𝔲𝔠𝔥, 𝔧𝔲𝔰𝔱 𝔞 𝔱𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔢

↳ an accidental turning leaves Hyunjin feeling like the monster he feels he is.

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1nthedarknessofthenight · 6 months

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i drink your blood and i eat your skin | part one.

pairing: vampire! hwang hyunjin x f!reader

warnings: smoking, assault, little bit gory

masterlist

playlist

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Stood up…again. That sickening and now very known feeling in the chest created another crack in your already shattered heart. You felt like a total fool. Why can’t you just get over the fact that maybe being a lover girl in this century wasn’t the right way to go. Oh, how much you wished to be more like your friend Mia. Just living in the moment, not worrying about the men and women you had in the past and only wondering who will be next.

Truth to the word is that love comes when you are least expecting it but you overthink everything! Every occurrence with someone–hell even a stupid eye contact makes you think about the future you could have with a literal stranger. However you already set the bar low enough, it hit the ground a long time ago. Looks didn’t even matter anymore, if they just showed interest and knew how to act like a normal human being was enough for you. Your overthinking can do the rest but today it surely ‘did a good job’.

You met this guy just yesterday at the grocery shop, so romantic but you weren’t asked on a date like in forever so it was quite exciting. He wasn’t even that bad looking — short dirty blond hair, broad shoulders and fairly tall…The wandering eyes of his on your chubbier figure surely could be overlooked. It wasn’t like you hated your figure but seeing someone openly checking you out like that was a first and it made you feel wanted, so you went for it.

Well…it didn’t go as well as you thought it would as now you were sitting on a small bench in the middle of the night all by yourself. You shouldn’t have talk about him to your friend Mia, seeing that when you would talk about some potential love interest they would right after suddenly change their whole behavior, only leaving you feeling disappointed and embarrassed.

Date was at 6 p.m at this small Italian restaurant and by quarter to seven with no sight of your date and no text saying that he was running late, you learned that maybe your date was cancelled. At least the food and wine was good enough to hide your disappointment for awhile but after the third glass you felt like breaking down.

A 24 year old woman and no experience. Even the kids’ siblings you babysat had more experience with dating. You knew that by having no experience isn’t something to be ashamed of but you felt like you were missing out on life…

You took another drag of your cigarette, ignoring the coldness of the bench beneath you. You could at this point get a cat and become one of those rich cool aunts that traveled all around the world but reality hits you right there. No siblings, no parents and also being a hopeless romantic couldn’t help you become someone you knew you never will be.

You actually rarely felt sad about having no one from your own blood. As long as you could remember Mia was everything you had and needed and Mia’s parents gave you everything and more. You don’t even know how you became friends, all you knew was that you two have an unbreakable bond and couldn’t wish for anyone else.

You smiled at the thought of your friend. Maybe you don’t even need anyone but there was still a feeling like a piece of missing puzzle was somewhere out there to fulfill you. You shook your head and laughed at your own thought. Atleast no one was out at this hour, basking in the silence.

Seeing that you almost finished your cigarette, you stood up and dust of your white chiffon dress. If your friend saw you she would probably shoved that cancer stick right down your throat. You didn’t even smoked that much, a one cigarette after a while (a whole pack) can’t hurt nobody.

The starry night today was awfully pretty and made your attention shift to its dazzling beauty. Walking few steps, you leaned over the brick wall of of the bridge you walked your whole live on. This small stone bridge was built in Middle Ages and from that moment it connected the two sides of the town in one. Wrapping your lips around the cigarette, holding it between your pointer and index finger you watched as the smoke mixed in with the light fog of this cold spring evening.

Thanks to the alcohol, you didn’t even felt the cold seeping under the skirt of your dress that much. Last drag and then finally putting out the cigarette on the cold stone, you watched again how the smoke from your cherry colored lips danced through the night but suddenly your vision caught something way more interesting.

A man dressed in dark clothes was leaning against a stone railing few feet below her. You didn’t even know how you could see him because he was perfectly blending in with the darkness of the night. From where you were standing, you could make out that he had longer black hair, one side tuck behind his ear which was decorated by a small earring that twinkled in the moonlight. In his hands was a notebook, scribbling down something. You quickly learned that he was drawing the waters of the quiet river he softly lift his gaze to every now and then.

You lost yourself in his smooth movements and captivating beauty. Even by being far from this man, you could confidently say that he was one of the most beautiful creatures you have ever seen. His other hand caressed the paper like it was the soft skin of a lover, fingers decorated by multiple rings. You were in a trance, watching him draw, you could even hear the light scratching of his pencil against the page and then…a sudden movement of his makes your breath get stuck in your throat. As his gaze again went to the illuminated river, he suddenly tilted his head in your direction.

You were now met with a pair of blue eyes, so blindingly pale blue that seemed to look right through you. You were right…that man was beautiful. From his piercing eyes to his nose, strong jawline and perfect full red lips. He looked like an angel but by the look in his eyes, you felt like he was something completely different . He was dangerously beautiful.

Your heartbeat quickened as his glowing eyes slightly narrowed and then slowly trace over your features, just like yours did to him. You felt analyzed not only from the outside but also on the inside, almost waiting for his approval as he once again met your eyes in a burning stare that sent shivers down your spine. The look in his eyes changed. To what? You didn’t know but it made you feel uneasy.

His head turned suddenly to look behind him. Confused, you take a look in the same direction and after just a small moment of waiting, loud voices and laughter were heard as five men come up from the corner stumbling, they were certainly drunk. As you turn to glance back at the man, you were just openly gawking at you were only met with no one. It was like he wasn’t even there in the first place and you began thinking if maybe he was just fragment of your imagination after all.

Hearing and seeing the five men going closer, you decided to head back home. Turning on your heels, you began walking across the bridge to the other side. The streets were empty and it didn’t help that you lived quite far from where you were right now. A sudden feeling like you were being watched made you quickly look over your shoulder and learning that your were right about your theory.

Those same men were just few meters behind you and if you didn’t turn around, you wouldn’t know a thing because they suddenly became quiet, whispering to themself, their bickering blending into the light wind.

Your heart immediately sank, quickening your steps. ‘’Hey, you!’’ Echoes a voice from one of the men. You ignored it almost tripping from how fast you were now going. “Come on, pretty lady-‘’

Grabbing your bag in your hands, you fumble through it. “We just want to talk! And a girl shouldn’t be walking all alone in the middle of the night ya know..” Now the voices were too close to your liking. When you felt the pepper spray at the bottom of your bag, you grasped it and decided to do better and immediately take off running.

Your breathing become heavier as you heard sound of heavy footsteps from behind you. “Get back here!~” Today definitely couldn’t got any worse for you. Your ears ranged and legs screamed from your sudden burst of energy. Maybe this is a sign to work out more as you felt the irony taste in your mouth.

A sinister laughter echoed through the night making a small amount of tears well up in your eyes. You were too far from any house. Your feet hurt like hell and exhaustion slowly started to creep up to you, the cold air making you shiver as it kissed your reddened cheeks. Behind your blurry vision, you saw an open gate to a cemetery, quickly thinking of the risks you would have to make. It was dark and there was a chance hiding in the shadows…

Making a sharp turn to the left, you almost slipped through the open gate but a hand suddenly wrapped itself around your forearm tugging you to its owner. “Gotcha~” But before the man could finish, you turn your head away from him, spraying the contents of the pepper spray in to his eyes.

Screaming in pain, he let go of you, making you grasp the open side of the gate and smashing it into him making him tumble to the ground. You didn’t even look if there was a lock somewhere, seeing that the others weren’t that far from you and turning to run through the dark cemetery .

You tripped every step. You felt like one of those stupid girls in horror movies but it was so dark, you couldn’t see much of anything. When your line of vision caught a big gravestone, you cried up, there was no time to look for better hiding spot.

Falling onto your knees and squeezing yourself behind the big stone, you tried to calm down your racing heart and rigid breathing as it got eerily quiet. Pressing your upper back on the back of the gravestone, you pulled your legs up to your chest and prayed for your literal life. Your new dress was probably torn to shreds and dirty but you didn’t seem to care as your fear filled eyes stared into the darkness before you.

“Come out, come out wherever you are!”

“She can’t be far.”

“Look over there and I will~”

A small quiet sob flew past your lips, making you cover your mouth with your hand. This couldn’t be happening right now. They should’ve lost interest by now. ‘God why me?’, you thought, pressing the palm of your hand painfully onto your lips.

You heard snapping of twigs quite far from you but you still didn’t have the courage and strength to take it as a chance to escape and run and there was still chance someone was near you as there were five of them. The moon shined from behind you, making shadows that seemed even more scarier now because of your situation. Maybe a ghost or something would be better than this.

As your gaze burned the ground below you an unexpected shadow appeared on the ground. Your heart immediately sank. “There you are, pretty girl.” Whispered the new comer, making you immediately spring to your feet into the opposite direction but you were only caught by arms of a second man.

“No!~” You screamed into the night accompanied with laughter by the others. Trashing in the arms of the man, you screamed for help more and more as your blurry vision caught the other three men making their way to you.

The grip that man had you in was bruising, making you cry out in pain. You can’t just stop fighting…so the next thing you did was stomping your foot down on to the man’s foot. You couldn’t be more happy of deciding the last minute to wear heels as his grip loosened when your heel pierced his foot. Shoving yourself away from him, you ran, dugging right under pairs of arms that tried to caught you but you still didn’t make it far.

One of them made you trip over your feet. Falling so unexpectedly, you didn’t even have time to register anything in the dark, making you fall head first on a corner of a gravestone. A small cry came from your, gripping your throbbing head in your hands as your ears rang. Feeling yourself being grabbed at made you a little bit wake up from the small unconsciousness, swinging your arms widely and trying to hit anything you could reach but they were only caught in a painful grip.

Crying loudly you tried to wiggle away as you felt yourself being laid back on to the cold ground. Two of them quickly catch your legs mid air as you tried to atleast kick one of them. “No please~” You plead, feeling so stupid for even trying as they only laughed at you.

The one left that wasn’t holding any of your limbs, loomed over you, looking like a predator looming over his helpless pray. It was the one you pepper sprayed. Watching him as he took out a switchblade knife from his pocket made you for a moment stop your loud crying. “Scream and I cut you.” He said while going to his knees right between your legs. This can’t be it…

“Fucking bitch.” He says dragging the knife up your leg lifting your skirt with the sharp point, making you trash around a little in hopes of being spared. Your head fell onto the ground. You didn’t want to look down and have chance of seeing your assaulters or even to the side and seeing his accomplices’ sickening grins. For a moment you could only feel the stars and moon looking down at you. Oh, how much you wished to be as far away as them right now, trying so hard to ignore the sound of belt unbuckling.

“What~” That unexpected question came from your side, making you look in wonder and immediately a scream gets stuck in your throat.

The first thing you saw was red. Blood so bright that even in the pitch darkness you could see it covering your dress and lower body. Your assaulter with the knife was now held by the head as their newcomer had their mouth attached to his neck, watching as warm, crimson blood flowed freely from where they were contacted. The unknown person growled that sound so animalistic that it made goosebumps rise on the back of your neck.

As the body of the man fell limply to the ground you could finally see your so called ‘hero’. Before you stood the same man you saw under the bridge. The one whose beauty struck you as a lightning but right now you felt everything but admiration towards this man. Another–new and now even more strong wave of fear run though you as you look upon him.

His beautiful icy blue eyes were now red, pulsing blue and purple veins underneath his lower eyelashes that went across his cheekbones and his lips painted from the blood of his victim, made him look nightmarish. The crimson liquid dripped from his lips down to his chin and chest, seeping into his expensive looking dress shirt. The moonshine lightened his slim silhouette and his wild look in his eyes made them all see what…who the real danger truly is.

Shaking out of your trance, you felt yourself being grabbed at not so strongly as before. One of those men that kept your legs down, spring at your savior. But as quickly as he stood up the creature of the night grabbed him harshly by his neck, pinning him down and baring his sharp teeth at him. You, seeing a way out, took it and you definitely weren’t alone as the now only three men took of running with you. You choose the left side with one of those men and the other two right and as you turn to look back at them, those same men were stopped as now they were met with someone new.

A shorter man with sandy blonde hair stood before them and you must say, he was equally as beautiful as the other one. You stood frozen in your spot as the stranger with cold, almost bored looking eyes shoved both of his hands into those two grown men’s chests like it was nothing. Loudly gasping, you shrieked as now the man held their hearts in the palms of his hands, their bodies now an empty box, falling by his feet. You didn’t know what to do other than watch, frozen in horror, so you didn’t even see coming the only one man left, pauncing at you and grabbing you swiftly from the back and pressing the cold knife to your throat.

“Don’t come near me you fucking freaks!” Yells the man in your ear, now having both of theirs attention. Even breathing made the knife cut lightly the delicate skin of your neck.

But by a blink of an eye you were free, immediately falling to the ground as your own legs gave up on you in the same moment. You heard a short scream, followed by the loud sound of bones snapping, making your skin crawl. Crawling desperately away, you stopped at a tree that now seemed like the most supporting thing in this situation as you curled yourself up next to it. You couldn’t run, you knew that would be stupid. You got yourself from a dangerous situation and now you were in even bigger one. Bringing your knees to your chest, you sobbed. Never have you felt so afraid and useless. There wasn’t even a chance…so you did the only think you could. Plead.

“Please, I won’t say anything…please~” You say not looking up.

One of them slowly walk up to you, stopping right before you. You held your breath, quieting your sobs for a moment and peeking from behind your fingers to look at the boots of the same man that ripped someone’s heart right from their chest just seconds ago. “What do you want to do with her?” Spoke the man, his voice so calm almost soothing but his question for sure didn’t made you feel more relaxed.

Breathing through your nose heavily, you squeezed your eyes shut trying to imagine yourself anywhere else. Response wasn’t heard as the man whose beauty you so admired walk up to his company.

If you would be watching you could’ve seen looks being exchange between them.

The sandy blonde haired man grabbed the other by his arm stopping him from going any further to you. “If Chan hears about this, I will make sure to throw you into the dungeons myself.” Only a small smirk was send back his way.

You felt your body go stiff as someone crunched down before you, softly bringing their hand to the side of your face. Their touch was cold as ice and if you weren’t already freezing you would surely jump away.

Their fingers softly traced your face, stopping at your chin and slowly lifting your head. The same blue eyes you saw from before were now staring right into yours, noticing the subtle ring of red around the iris. You felt yourself drowning again in his beauty and strangely your breathing calmed down. You and the man look upon each other for a moment. His cold touch felt more like burning but you didn’t have the heart to pull away as this was probably the softest touch you have ever felt. “Please…” You didn’t even know for what you were pleading anymore.

His other hand, the hand decorated with those beautiful rings went to the other side of your face, having no other choice but to look back into his alluring eyes. “You will forget everything that happened tonight.” He whispered, his voice velvety and delicious to your ears. “From the moment you saw me to this very moment and go home.”

Your tear filled eyes look into his, watching his pupils grow in size with his every word. Just as quickly as he said those words, he was gone by a blink of an eye. So was his company, even the bodies of your assaulters were nowhere left to be seen. You swallowed the lump in your throat, not wanting to spend anymore time at this creepy cemetery. You stoop up on your shaking legs, surprised seeing your bag sitting right by your feet. You forgot about even loosing it. Bending over and grabbing it, you walked the way home and recalling his words in your head again.

“Forget…” The only thing was that you didn’t, not knowing the consequences that will come because of it.

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author’s note

So this is actually my first ever fanfic on tumblr as you can see. So I hope you like it and I just wanted to say that even studying English my whole life it’s still not my mother language so I’m sorry for any errors you come across.

I used to write a lot on wattpad but I don’t make anymore stories but still if you want to, you can check them out on: @Audrey_Holland

Thank you for reading, can’t wait for you guys to read the next chapters.

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