. ׂׂૢ 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑘 𝑖 𝑛𝑒𝑒𝑑 𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑜𝑙𝑑𝑒𝑟.

ׂ╰┈➤s. 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑚𝑒𝑚𝑏𝑒𝑟𝑠’ 𝑓𝑎𝑣𝑜𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑒 𝑠𝑒𝑥 𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑖𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠 wc.1.1k w. 𝑠𝑚𝑢𝑡 + ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑐𝑎𝑛𝑜𝑛𝑠 (18+ 𝑚𝑑𝑛𝑖!) n.𝑒𝑛𝑗𝑜𝑦!

heeseung - mating press. oh, he adores the mating press - like, obsessively. it's heeseung’s go-to position, his absolute favorite, the one thing he’ll never get tired of because it just hits different.

it’s the ultimate intimacy - chest to chest, hips locked together, faces so close you share each and every breath. you can kiss, bite, whisper filth, or just stare into each other’s eyes as he moves, drowning in the intensity.

the angle is chef’s kiss - deep, relentless, no escape. every thrust drags against all the right spots, and the way your body arches beneath him? utmost perfection.

there’s also something about having you pinned, completely at his mercy - it’s a power trip, which makes him reach a state of insanity.

also, the aftercare is immaculate. collapsed together, still joined, catching your breath while trading lazy kisses? godsent.

jay - cowgirl. when he wants control, when he wants to take his pleasure with desperate, bouncing frenzy - cowgirl is his kingdom.

the power dynamic is chef's kiss - gripping your waist and watching you take what you want - it's intoxicating.

chests heaving, hair tousled, that perfect flush spreading down your body as you move? art. absolute art.

slow, sensual rises and falls, then suddenly bouncing hard enough to leave bruises on your thighs. the versatility? unmatched.

his hands are free to wander - gripping hips, thumbing over nipples, pulling them down into a messy kiss - every touch just makes it better.

also - eye contact ruins him. locking gazes while you ride him? that's the kind of intimacy that leaves him trembling.

jake - doggy. oh, he lives for doggy - the raw, unfiltered thrill of it, the way it makes him feel both wild and worshiped at the same time. i's not just a position -it's a vibe, a whole damn experience.

the sight is everything- - he curve of your spine, the way your body moves, the sheer obscenity of or taking what he wants like this.

also that angle? brutal. every thrust hits different, punching out noises he didn't even know you could make. it's the kind of pleasure that borders on too much, and yet he’s always begging for more.

jake has complete control - hands tangled in hair, fingers digging into flesh, setting the pace rough and fast or slow and teasing. and you? totally at his mercy, reduced to whimpers and broken moans. (bonus points if there's a well-placed spank or two)

the pose is dirty talk central. growled praise, hissed curses, the kind of "you take me so fucking good" that leaves the both of you shuddering.

sunghoon - pronebone. he’s obsessed with it - the kind of obsession that makes him melt just thinking about it. it's his secret weapon, his guilty pleasure, the position he always circles back to, because it's just that good.

it's all about the surrender. you - face down, body pressed into the mattress, completely at hoon’s mercy. no distractions, just pure, unfiltered sensation - every thrust hitting deep, every drag of skin on skin pulling moans he didn't even know he had in him.

the angle is sinful. hips tilted just right, leverage perfect for hitting the spot that makes you see stars. and the view? devastating. the curve of your back, the way your fingers claw at the sheets, the desperate little noises muffled into the pillow - it's art.

sometimes he’s too wrecked for eye contact, too far gone for anything but the raw, grinding pleasure. it's the best of both worlds - filthy and possessive, but low-effort enough that the both of you can just take each other when you’re too hungry to bother with finesse.

the aftermath is a mess of shaky limbs and bitten-off laughs. collapsed together, still trembling, trying to remember how to breathe. maybe a lazy hand tracing the marks left on your ass, or a kiss pressed between your shoulder blades.

sunoo - face off.  there’s something about the face-off position that drives him wild - the way you straddle him, thighs gripping his hips, bodies pressed so close the both of you can feel every heartbeat, every shuddering breath. it's raw, it's intimate, and it's his.

there's no hiding here - no buried faces, no turning away. just locked gazes, pupils blown wide with pleasure, watching every flicker of emotion cross each other's face. it's too intense, too vulnerable, and that's exactly why he craves it.

he’s the one beneath - completely at your mercy, forced to take whatever he’s given, hands gripping your thighs for leverage.

every movement hits just right - deep, relentless, with your weight pressing him down in the best way. the friction is maddening, the pressure unbearable, and neither of you would change a thing.

jungwon - reverse scoop. there’s something delicious about the reverse scoop -the way he folds you over, chest pressed flush against your back, hips cradled tight in his grasp. it’s possessive, it’s deep, and it’s inescapable.

he can set a brutal pace, grind slow and filthy, or pin you down with an arm hooked under your thighs, forcing you to take every inch. there's no leverage, no wiggle room - just pure, helpless surrender.

chest to back, lips on the nape of your neck, hands gripping wherever they can reach - it's overwhelming in the best way. the heat, the sweat, the way your breath hitches when he bites your shoulder? chef's kiss.

with his mouth right by your ear, he can murmur exactly what he’s going to do - or how good you feel, how tight, how his. either way, it's game over.

when he finally snaps, it's with his teeth sinked into your shoulder, hands bruising your hips, pressing you down into the mattress as he rides out the high.

ni-ki - spork. that tangled, half-folded, limbs-everywhere way of fucking isn't graceful, but that's why he loves it. it's desperate, uncoordinated, and so good he can't think straight.

one leg hooked over a shoulder, the other trapped between your bodies, back arched at a ridiculous angle - nothing about this is practical, but the way it makes you gasp? worth it.

somehow, this jumble of limbs lets him sink deeper than should be physically possible. every thrust punches the air from your lungs, and the choked-out moans it pulls from you? art.

the angle hits so good that neither of you can keep it together - breathy curses, bitten-off pleas, the wet slap of skin echoing between the both of you. it's filthy in the best way.

even in this mess you lock eyes - half-lidded, dazed, watching each other come undone. it's too intimate, too raw, and it ruins you every time.

the collapse is truly inevitable - muscles give out, you slide into a heap, still panting and laughing breathlessly. it's not elegant, but who cares when the aftershocks are that good?

-

·˚ ༘𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑜 𝑖𝑡

ׂ╰┈➤s. 𝑤ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑚𝑒𝑚𝑏𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑐𝑢𝑚 wc. 1.4k w. 𝑠𝑚𝑢𝑡+ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑐𝑎𝑛𝑜𝑛𝑠 (18+ 𝑚𝑑𝑛𝑖!),𝑎𝑛𝑎𝑙 n. 𝑒𝑛𝑗𝑜𝑦!

heeseung - inside. to hee, there's nothing better than finishing inside you - the way your body tightens around him, the way your breath hitches, how he can feel every pulse of his release as he presses as deep as possible. it's more than pleasure - it's possession, it's devotion, it's the most intimate thing he can imagine.

that first shuddering moment when he spills inside you, your warmth surrounding him, thighs trembling against his hips. he lives for the way you gasp when you feel him, nails digging into his back like you never want him to leave.

there's also something primal about it - an instinctive need to claim, to fill you up so thoroughly that even after he pulls out, you're still his. heeseung loves the thought of you carrying his release inside you, even if just for a little while.

he swears you get tighter when he comes, like your body is milking every last drop from him. it's overwhelming, intoxicating, and he can't help but groan your name like a prayer when it happens.

you stay locked together, panting, his forehead pressed to yours as he rides out the aftershocks. he kisses you lazily, murmuring praise - "took me so well, baby." the possessive hand on your hip when he finally pulls out, watching his release drip from you.

"again" - because he's never satisfied just once. the second he catches his breath, he's already thinking about the next time he can fill you up.

jay - tits. there’s something electric about the moment he paints your chest - the way your skin flushes under his release, how your breath catches as warm streaks stripe your skin. it’s possessive, it’s filthy, and it drives him wild every damn time.

watching himself mark you - your tits glazed, nipples pebbled, his cum stark against your skin - it’s art to him. he’ll stare like he’s memorizing it, jaw clenched, pupils blown.

the way you arch into it, or gasp when the first hot stripe lands. maybe you even open your mouth without thinking, and fuck if that doesn’t make him throb.

his voice is rough when he says it, thumb swiping through the mess to smear it over your nipples - "made such a pretty fucking mess, baby."

he loves licking it off you - slow, deliberate strokes of his tongue, just to hear you whine. or maybe he makes you rub it in, his cum slicking your fingers as you play with yourself.

he’s already dreaming about the next time - maybe higher, maybe lower, maybe while you’re begging for it.

jake - ass. to him, nothing compares to the forbidden heat of finishing inside your ass - body clenching around him, audible whimpers when he fills you up, the way his release stays trapped deep inside where only he can reach. it's maddening, and so intoxicating he can't get enough.

that tight, searing heat - so much more intense than anywhere else. the second he pushes in deep and spills, he swears he sees stars, your body milking him dry with every damn pulse.

it’s animalistic - claiming you in the most forbidden way, leaving his mark where no one else can see. he loves knowing you'll feel it for hours after.

the choked gasp when he first pushes in, the broken moan when he comes, the way you beg "more" even as he's already giving you everything.

how you collapse together, his cock still buried inside you as he whispers filthy praise - "fuck, you take it so good." the way he lazily rubs your hips when he finally pulls out, watching his release leak from your well-used hole.

sunghoon - stomach. the deliciously primal feeling of coming on your stomach - how his release paints your skin, hot and claiming, as he watches with dark, satisfied eyes. it's not just about the pleasure, it's about seeing his desire spilled across you, marking you in the most visual way possible.

the way your chest rises and falls beneath him, stomach tensing as his release streaks across your skin - it's beautiful to him. he loves watching it, how stark and intimate it looks against your body.

if finishing inside you is about possession, this is about display - proof of what he's done to you, what you've drawn out of him. he gets off on the visual proof of your shared pleasure.

how you shiver when the first hot stripe hits your skin, the soft gasp you make when you see how much he's given you. he lives for the way you look up at him, lips parted, as he marks you.

and he's not gentle about it either - he wants it everywhere, smeared across your stomach, your hips, maybe even higher if he's feeling particularly possessive. the messier, the better, because it means you'll feel it on your skin long after.

"look at you” - the growl in his voice when he drags a thumb through it, spreading it further, marking you deliberately. "you’re mine".

sunoo - thighs. to him, it’s maddeningly erotic to come on your thighs - the way his release spills hot and thick against your skin, streaking down the sensitive inner flesh he'd just been teasing moments before.

your soft skin, flushed and trembling under his touch, now marked with him - it's a picture he'll never get tired of. the way his release glazes over your thighs, some dripping down toward your knees... fuck.

it’s so close to where you really want him, yet just out of reach - it's torture in the best way. the way you whine when he denies you, when he chooses to stripe your thighs instead of giving you what you begged for, only makes it hotter.

how your legs twitch when the first hot splash hits, how you bite your lip as you watch him coat your skin. he loves that shaky little gasp you make when it's more than you expected.

thighs are personal - close enough to be intimate, but not where you'd expect. it's a tease, a promise, a reminder that he could have had you anywhere he wanted... but he chose this.

"stay still" - the way his voice drops when he pins your hips down, making sure you take it, that every drop lands exactly where he wants it.

jungwon - face. your lashes flutter, lips part, breath hitches as he stains your face with his release. it's not just about pleasure, it's about worship and debauchery tangled together in the most maddening way.

the way you look up at him - submissive, trusting, wanting - makes his pulse roar. whether your gaze is hazy with pleasure or burning with defiance, the moment his cum streaks across your cheeks, he owns you.

your flushed skin, the heat of your mouth so close, how he stands out stark against you - it's obscene and he can't look away.

holding your chin, tilting your head back just so, watching you let him mark you like this - it's control at its peak. and if you lick your lips after? damn..

"you look perfect like this." - the growl in his voice when he smears a thumb through it, dragging his claim across your cheeks. he wants you to feel it, to remember it.

you blink up at him, sticky and spent, and he kisses you anyway, swallowing your gasp as he tastes himself on your tongue.

ni-ki - mouth. there's nothing more intimately dominant to him than finishing in your mouth - how your lips part for him, the heat of your tongue against him, the surrender in your eyes as you take everything he gives you. it's ownership at it’s peak, the ultimate act of trust between you two.

the way you look up at him, lashes fluttering, as he holds your head in place, knowing you're letting him use your mouth, that you want to swallow every drop. it's the hottest form of surrender he can imagine.

that first pulse against your wet warmth, the way your throat works instinctively to take him deeper. he loses it at the feeling, fingers tightening in your hair as he groans your name.

he should feel bad for how rough he gets, but the choked little noises you make when he pushes too deep? they just make him harder. he loves the mess of it - saliva-slick lips, teary eyes, the obscene drip if he pulls out too fast.

‘’swallow." - the command is guttural, desperate. he needs to watch your throat move as you obey, needs to see proof that you've taken all of him. the way you lick your lips after, still tasting him? fuck.

when he drags you up and licks into your mouth, savoring the bitter tang of himself on your tongue. "good girl."

-

·˚ ༘ 𝑖𝑡’𝑠 𝑎𝑙𝑤𝑎𝑦𝑠 𝑏𝑒𝑒𝑛 𝑌𝑂𝑈.

ׂ╰┈➤ s. 𝑟𝑖𝑘𝑖 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑝𝑢𝑠𝑠𝑦 wc. 505. w. 𝑠𝑚𝑢𝑡 + ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑐𝑎𝑛𝑜𝑛𝑠 (18+ 𝑚𝑑𝑛𝑖!) n.𝑒𝑛𝑗𝑜𝑦..

munch!riki.. who doesn't just eat pussy; he treats it like a sacred decadent ritual. He'll spend hours between your thighs if you let him, mapping every gasp, every little twitch, every choked-off whimper like he's studying for a choreography he's desperate to ace. His tongue moves lazy and deliberate, savoring the way you clench around nothing, how your hips stutter when he hums against you. He loves when you beg him to hurry up, just so he can give you one of his diabolical smirks and murmur:

’’But I'm not done tasting you yet."

munch!riki.. who the more you unravel, the more feral he becomes. He'll pin your thighs apart with bruising grip, watching your face as you sob from overstimulation, his lips glistening with your arousal. And when you try to squirm away, oversensitive and shaking? That's when he drags you back, growling:

"You're not going anywhere, sweetheart. I decide when you're done."

munch!riki.. who brushes his thumb over your bottom lip at dinner. Silent whispers, such as "I can still taste you" while you're trying to focus on things, which require your immediate attention. Lingering eye contact as he slowly licks syrup off his ring-covered fingers at breakfast. He lives for the way your breath hitches, how your cheeks flush - knowing you're replaying every filthy thing he's done to your cunt.

munch!riki.. who fingers you with his chrome hearts rings on, the cold metal contrasting deliciously against the heat of his tongue and the wetness of your pussy. He takes his time, letting your arousal paint the intricate designs of the rings - sharp edges and engraved details - while they drag teasingly over your folds before pressing inside. The weight of the jewelry adds just enough pressure, amplifying every sensation as his fingers curl just right.

Sometimes, he’ll twist a ring slightly, letting the band catch on you in the most maddening way, just to hear you whimper his name. And when he pulls out, the glint of silver against slick fingers is a filthy reminder of how thoroughly he’s marked you - even without leaving bruises.

munch!riki.. who adores turning you into a needy, pleading wreck. He’ll lay you out, spread you wide, and then just… watch. The man will trail his fingers along your inner thighs, kiss everywhere but where you want him, until you're arching off the bed, whining his name. And when you finally break, he'll reward you with a filthy grin and a slow, open-mouthed lick that has you seeing whole galaxies.

munch!riki..who will bury his desperate face in your panties just to inhale deeply, groaning like an addict. If you've been out all day, he'll push you against the door the second you get home, rutting against your thigh, while he mouths at your neck, muttering:

"Fuck, you smell so good - need to get my mouth on you, now."

And if you tease him? If you shift just right so your scent hits him? He'll snap, flipping you onto your backside with a snarl.

-

.ೃ࿐𝑏𝑎𝑑 𝑑𝑒𝑠𝑖𝑟𝑒

ׂ╰┈➤s. 𝑣𝑎𝑚𝑝𝑖𝑟𝑒 𝑗𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑑 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑏𝑒𝑠𝑡 𝑓𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑑 𝑜𝑢𝑡𝑟𝑢𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 ℎ𝑢𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝑡𝑟𝑦𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡𝑜 𝑘𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑚, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑦 𝑓𝑖𝑛𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑚𝑠𝑒𝑙𝑣𝑒𝑠 𝑖𝑛 𝑎 𝑐𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑏𝑒𝑛𝑒𝑎𝑡ℎ 𝑎 𝑤𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑓𝑎𝑙𝑙 wc. 2k p.𝑓𝑒𝑚!𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟 𝑥 𝑣𝑎𝑚𝑝𝑖𝑟𝑒!𝑗𝑎𝑘𝑒 w.𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑓𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑖𝑜𝑛, 𝑟𝑢𝑛𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 ℎ𝑢𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑠, 𝑙𝑖𝑓𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑠𝑖𝑡𝑢𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛, 𝑠𝑒𝑥 𝑖𝑛 𝑎 𝑐𝑎𝑣𝑒, 𝑐𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑚𝑝𝑖𝑒 n. ℎ𝑜𝑝𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑒𝑛𝑗𝑜𝑦 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠!

three weeks had passed since the world twisted on its axis - since your best friend’s laughter dimmed into silence, since jake’s hands stopped feeling warm. three weeks since he disappeared for two endless nights and came back completely changed, the boy you once knew half-swallowed by something sharp, ancient and utterly broken.

you found him crouched in an underbrush, soaked to the bone, trembling uncontrollibly, his clothes torn and fingers painted red, like some kind of creature of myth. jake’s face had been unrecognisable at first - eyes wild, teeth sharp, the scent of blood clinging to him like second skin - and yet, beneath it all, it was still him. the same boy who had once tried to build you a treehouse and cried when he fell. the one who always carried gum for you even though he hated the taste.

you didn’t flinch when you discovered him. instead, you reached out with trembling hands, whispering his name into the quiet.

-

since that starry night, the two of you had resembled ghosts, drifting from one dark corner of the world to the next - motels, abandoned cabins, forests with no names, just to not get caught by hunters. you learned to sleep lightly and move quickly, to read the woods like a living, breathing thing. jake never stayed in one place for more than a day. you never asked what he did when he quietly slipped away at dusk with shadows marking his eyes, but you always felt it when he returned - colder, quieter, marked with guilt he never dared to voice.

you didn’t need him to say it, beacuse you knew.

he was hungry and not in the way humans hunger - not for warmth, food or touch - but in a way that clawed at his insides, gnawed at his conscience, and left painful bruises behind his ribs.

and yet, no matter how starved he became, he never touched you, not even once. that was more than a promise, a vow he was never going to break.

-

the pursuit today had been brutal in every way.

dogs barking, branches tearing, the glint of silver blades in the dark. you’d barely managed to outrun the hunters, lungs burning and heart threatening to crack your chest open. jake had pulled you after him, never letting go of your wrist, the two of you moving like a single shadow through the forest until you reached the edge of a cliff.

and then you jumped - a moment of wind, a heartbeat suspended in time. you had no idea if you were going to make it, but you trusted jake. and if you were going to die, then doing it with him would hurt a bit less.

the roar of the waterfall was endless - you were falling for what felt like an eternity, yet you still had your consciousness. you weren’t gone, your grip on jake’s hand unwavering.

suddenly, you were here beneath the god of water, which you just had a ride on. a cavern veiled by sheets of falling light, hidden from the world above. your body was more than shaking, soaked and aching, but you were okay, and all you could see was him standing with his back to you, rainwater streaming from his hair, muscles taut like he was barely holding something back.

you didn’t dare speak at first. you only watched the rise and fall of jake’s broad, freshly scarred shoulders, the way his fingers twitched at his sides as if resisting the urge to claw at himself. there was something frayed about him, fragile, as though he was moments from unraveling entirely.

when you finally took the courage to whisper his name, it came soft, raw, unsure. jake turned slowly, like it pained him to do so, and you met his eyes. they were not the warm amber you remembered - they glowed faintly now, gold laced with hunger, a storm brewing behind them.

you slowly stepped forward, which resulted in him flinching.

“i’m fine.” - he muttered, voice hoarse and low, but you knew him too well - that tone meant anything but. his hands were clenched into fists, knuckles white, jaw tight with restraint.

“you’re not” - you said gently, reaching for him even as he recoiled.

“don’t.” - he growled -“don’t get close.”

but you did. you always did.

“jake” - you whispered, fingertips grazing the edge of his torn-apart sleeve, “please. let me help.”

“i’m not human anymore” - he spat, each word bitter and full of shame. “i don’t even know what i am. i shouldn’t be anywhere near you. i want-”- he cut off, breath shuddering.

“i know”- you said. you swallowed hard, throat tight- “you’re starving.”

jake turned his face away- “i could hurt you.”

“you won’t.”

“you don’t know that.”

“i do.”

he finally met your gaze again, and the anguish there was unbearable - raw and unfiltered, like an open wound. jake looked like a man being torn apart from the inside. you could see the hunger, yes, but deeper still, there was fear. of himself, of losing control, of losing you.

and still - even now - there was longing - a different kind.

one he didn’t know you had in yourself too. onehe hadn’t said out loud. not yet.

so you decided to say it for him.

“i love you, jake.”

the words fell into the cavern like a confession carved in stone.

he stared at you, stunned, as though the idea had never occurred to him. love was something reserved for only for humans, for lives not dipped in blood and darkness.

“i love you.” - you say again, slower this time - “not because i pity you, not because i think i can fix you in any way, but because you’ve always been the one for me, the one, who occupies every crook of my heart. even before this.”

jake took a step toward you, then another.

the fear didn’t leave his face. if anything, it deepened- “you don’t understand what you’re saying” - he breathes. -“if you stay with me, you’ll be hunted too. you’ll never be safe. and i don’t even know if i can ever go back to who I was before.”

“i don’t want who you were” - you said, stepping forward until there was barely an inch between you - “i want you. whoever you are now.”

something twisted inside him then.

a sound escaped his throat - half sob, half growl - and his arms were around you before you could blink. he buried his face in the curve of your soft, wet neck, his breath icy, grip almost too tight. but it wasn’t violent. it was desperate, like a man trying to keep himself from sinking.

you pressed your lips to the side of his head and whispered -“you’re not a monster.”

“i am.”

“fine. so be it.”

he pulled back, just enough to look at your expression, and then jake’s mouth was on yours in the span of a heartbeat.

the kiss was nothing like you had imagined. it wasn’t soft, patient or hesitant - it was fierce, unsteady, like he was fighting himself even as he was giving in. his lips were cold at first, but they warmed quickly against yours, moving with a hunger that wasn’t about your pulse, but something far deeper.

you kissed him back with everything you’d been holding in for years -the ache, the unbearable love. your hands buried themselves into his wet, messyy hair as he pressed you against the stone wall of the cave, your breaths mixing in frantic gasps between kisses.

he was shaking not from cold, but restraint. his hands cradled your face like he was terrified you’d break under his touch.

“i’ve wanted this” - he said against your lips, voice breaking -“before all of this. before i changed.”

“so have i” - you breathed.

jake leaned his forehead against yours, both of you trembling, caught between ruin and salvation.

“i can’t lose you.” - he whispered

“and you won’t.” - you answered

you didn’t know who leaned in first this time, but when your lips met again, it was slower. deeper. the taste of him was wild and aching.

’’jake?’’ - you pulled away just enough to whisper

’’yes?’’

‘’please.’’ - you uttered, voice pleading for something you knew was going to torture his thirst to the maximum. your eyes were glistening with desire as you looked up at him, only to find the same expression written all over his own face.

jake lifted you into his arms and carried you deeper into the cave, where moss carpeted the stone and the sound of falling water felt like a heartbeat surrounding you. the world was nothing but shadows and breath. nothing but him and the way he touched you like you were something holy.

he laid you down like an untold prayer, and just before your bodies fell into each other completely, before you surrendered everything, he looked into your eyes and said:

“you’re the only thing keeping me even slightly human.”

then he dove into your scent completely. you were devastatingly beautiful under the weight of jake’s body - lips plump, skin wet and glowing, eyelashes fluttering up at him like he was the brightest star in the whole night sky. he loved you, and god was he willing to do anything to prove it to you now.

jake’s fingers traced the curve of your jaw, his touch featherlight, as if you might dissolve beneath him. his eyes - dark as the deepest night, yet alight with something hungry and tender - burned into yours. you arched into jake, hands sliding up his chest, feeling the unnatural stillness of his undead heart.

a shudder ran through him. his lips crashed against yours, not with the brutal hunger you had half-expected, but with a desperate, aching reverence. the kiss was deep, slow, intoxicating - each movement of his mouth against yours a promise, a plea.

jake’s hands roamed your body with a lover’s patience, learning every dip and curve as if you were truly sacred. the thin, almost destroyed fabric of your clothes was an unbearable barrier, and when his fingers finally slipped beneath, you gasped at the coolness of his touch against your fevered skin.

he worshiped you with his mouth, your throat, collarbone, the swell of your breasts - each kiss a brand, each sigh from your lips a torment to his restraint. you could feel the tension in him, the way his body trembled with the effort of holding back, the way his fangs grazed your skin in fleeting, dangerous caresses.

"tell me to stop" - he breathed against her stomach, voice ragged.

you tangled your fingers in his hair, pulling him up to meet your gaze. "never."

the word undid him.

his hips pressed against yours, and you felt him - hard, aching, every inch of him alive with need. the moss beneath cradled your bodies as he moved his dick inside you, rhythm slow at first, savoring the way you clenched around his length, the way your breath hitched when he filled you completely.

the mist clung to your skin, the waterfall’s song a relentless echo of your own pounding heart. jake buried his face in the crook of your neck, his breath coming in sharp, controlled bursts as he fought the unbearable urge to sink his fangs into your tender flesh.

"fuck, i want-" - he growled, voice thick with hunger.

"i know-" - you moaned, tilting your head back, baring your throat to him in reckless trust.

but jake only kissed you there, soft and lingering, before capturing your lips again. his thrusts grew deeper, more urgent, your bodies moving in perfect harmony, as if they had been made for this, for each other.

when the pleasure finally crested, it was your name on jake’s lips as he spilled inside. you followed him over the edge, your cry lost in the thunder of the falls, body trembling with the force of your release.

afterward, he held you close, fingers tracing idle patterns on your damp skin. the hunger still simmered in his gaze, but beneath it was something far more dangerous, something eternal.

and as the waterfall roared on, you knew - this was only the beginning.

-

₊˚⊹♡𝑑𝑒𝑗𝑎 𝑣𝑢

s. 𝑔𝑖𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑠𝑢𝑛𝑜𝑜 ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑑 p.𝑓𝑒𝑚!𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟 𝑥 𝑏𝑓!𝑠𝑢𝑛𝑜𝑜 wc. 1.1k w.𝑠𝑚𝑢𝑡(18+ 𝑚𝑑𝑛𝑖!); 𝑑𝑜𝑚 𝑔𝑓, 𝑠𝑢𝑏 𝑠𝑢𝑛𝑜𝑜, 𝑏𝑒𝑔𝑔𝑖𝑛𝑔, 𝑡𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑠, 𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑢𝑙𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 n. 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑜𝑛𝑒’𝑠 𝑎 𝑏𝑖𝑡 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑑, 𝑒𝑛𝑗𝑜𝑦 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑟𝑖𝑑𝑒!

sunoo has always been the type of boyfriend to never ask for something when he truly wants it. ever since the two of you have been together, he’s found many ways of beating around the bush about his intimate desires, surpressing them completely, despite the countless amount of times you’ve told him that he should do the exact opposite. it was getting beyond frustrating and the effect this nuiscance had on the sexual side of your relationship was anything but positive.

you knew sunoo wanted you to suck his dick as much as you did yourself, yet he didn’t dare ask. it was beyond your understanding how a person could keep so much built in tension inside of them, when they could just ask for it to be relieved.

this had to change. in fact, it had to change tonight.

the bedroom was dimly lit and warm, your boyfriend laying down on your shared bed, watching something on the television. sunoo’s right arm was positioned right behind his head, resting itself on a pillow, giving the person watching a perfect view of his slightly-flexed biceps. your boyfriend was truly handsome.

he was so invested in what he was watching, that he almost didn’t see you sneaking up to him, intentionally wearing only a t-shirt of his and very revealing underwear. when he finally felt your presence, he gave you a warm smile and a caress on the head, completely clueless about what was about to come his way.

you returned sunoo’s gesture with the same warmth. your fingers cupped his jaw, slightly tugging his face towards yours, giving him a soft kiss on the lips. sunoo returned it with the same pace, only for you to pull away and slowly slide your tongue down to his adam’s apple, circling and pecking around it.

your lips were fire against his skin - searing kisses trailing down the column of his throat, each one leaving behind the ghost of your teeth. he shuddered beneath you, fingers tangling in your hair as you worked your way lower, tongue flicking over the sharp ridge of his collarbone.

"god, you taste good"- you murmured, voice thick with hunger. Your hands slid down sunoo’s chest, nails scraping lightly over his abs before hooking into the waistband of his pants. you looked up at him through wispy lashes, eyes dark with intent.

"take these off, baby. now."

it wasn't a request.

a ragged breath tore from his throat, his expression a mix between confusion, pleasure and resistment. you were almost sure he’d decline, or change the topic, but after a few quiet moments of silence, he obeyed. your eyes were wide with surprise as he lifted his hips, signaling you to yank his pants and boxers down. you did so in one rough pull. the cool air hit his skin, but it was nothing compared to the heat of your gaze as you took his already set erection in - hard, aching, leaking for you.

with one hand wrapped around the base of his cock, squeezing just enough to drag a groan from his lips, you leaned in, breath hot against the tip. you looked at sunoo as you kissed his length, and he was sweating, literally about to combust. you smirked, then took him into your mouth, not breaking the eye contact, with a slow, filthy slide of your tongue.

sunoo swore, hips jerking as you hollowed her cheeks, sucking him deeper with every pass. your free hand gripped his thigh, nails biting into flesh, keeping him pinned even as he twitched beneath. you set a relentless pace, tongue swirling over the head before sinking down again, taking him to the back of your throat with a muffled moan.

"oh, fuck-"- his voice was wrecked already, fingers tightening in your hair. "please don’t stop, just like that, baby, just-ah-”

you hummed around his dick, the vibration wringing another broken curse from his lips. every flick of your tongue, every drag of your lips was calculated torture, and when you pulled off just to lick a stripe up his length, his entire body tensed.

"look at me" - you demanded, and he obeyed instantly, meeting your gaze as you took him back into your mouth, slow and deliberate. the eye contact was devastating - lips stretched around him, cheeks flushed, eyes burning with the same desperate need coiling in his own gut.

sunoo was shaking, his thighs trembling, grip on your hair turning pleading. you could feel he was close to finishing, but you couldn’t let him do that.

your fingers dug into his hips, nails leaving crescent moons in his skin as you stopped him right at the edge - the warmth of your mouth disappearing into the air, hands on his legs.

"no-" you breathed, voice honey-sweet and venom-sharp -"not yet."

he choked, hips jerking, but you held him there, your upper body a vise, grip unrelenting. tears pricked at the corners of his eyes, frustration and desperation twisting his face into something beautifully broken.

"you-fuck, please -"- his voice cracked, ragged, his hands scrambling in your hair, anywhere, anywhere for leverage. but you were the one in control. you were the one who decided.

you leaned in, lips brushing his ear - "you made me wait"- you murmured, dragging your teeth over his pulse point. "weeks. months. teasing me. letting me taste you just enough to starve me."- your hips rolled, slow, agonizing, and he sobbed. "how does it feel?"

sunoo was trembling, sweat-slick and shaking, his cock twitching uncontrollibly - "i'm so sorry, baby, please-I can't-"

you laughed, low and dark, and went down his body once again in one swift motion, watching him unravel. -"you can. and you will, until I say you're done."

his breath hitched, tears spilling over -"i'll-anything, just let me-"

"beg harder.’’- you demanded.

and he obeyed.

sunoo was so desperate, so needy for the sensation of his cock releasing, that he was begging you for it like a person gone mad. seeing how distressed he had become, you decided to be graceful and grant him the opportunity to do so.

with the same serpent-like movements of your tongue, you sucked him properly one last time, and he became absolutely undone. he was moaning, whining as he finished right in your mouth, his release spilling out of it uncontrollibly. it was so much, that you had to push it back inside multiple times. a single drop could not be wasted.

as your boyfriend calmed down, he smiled at you, making a move to cup your face and pull you towards his lips, giving you a very slow, sensual kiss. you smiled against sunoo and laid beside him. you knew this was exactly what the both of you wanted, and you were happy he finally let you act on your desires.

and it wasn’t going to be the last time you’d act on them either.

-

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆

enjoy!:3

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆

• tight tops - riki would go absolutely BALLISTIC after seeing you in a small, tight tee. the way the fabric clings, sculpting every curve of yours, makes it impossible to look away. it moves with you, accenutating each breath, every little stretch, every shift of your shoulders. if the material is thin enough, it hints at the warmth of your skin underneath, making riki desperate to touch, to slide his long, ring-covered fingers along the fabric, feeling the heat radiate through.

then, there’s the way it rides up - just a tiny bit. maybe you reach for something, and suddenly - there’s a silver of skin exposed, a glimpse of your waist, the dip of your back. it’s completely maddening to him, sending heat surging through his veins like wildfire.

it takes all of riki’s strength to hold himself from backing you against a wall, caging you with his presence and showing you just how hard you’re making not only the situation, but his dick too.

• manhandling - riki would never hurt you, but seeing just how much stronger he is than you does something to him.

there’s a force pulling him to showing his strength in front of you - hands gripping your waist, the way he can control the space between the both of you with nothing more than his presence. it’s not about power - it’s about the tension, the game of it. for example - play fighting. it ignites something deep inside him - the playful shoves, the teasing challenges that test his patience. the thrill of being able to take control, then letting go just enough to keep you on edge. the push and pull of strength, dominance and surrender - it’s electrifying, a game he’s always willing to play.

• being vocal - riki isn’t the type to be super vocal - his and growls are not a lot, but on the other hand- hearing you squirm and moan his name, occasionally letting out a few words in your mother tongue slip out from just how good he’s making you feel, could make him finish right then and there. he always finds something irresistible in that, the way your voice seems to react to every touch, every shift of the atmosphere between your bodies.

• making out - everyone knows riki’s lips are made for kissing, and he is aware of the fact too.

he uses it to his advantage, pursing them even more before meeting yours, the proximity between you making it hard to breathe. feeling the graze of your tongue against his forces him to lose all previous intentions of impressing you with his making out skills, and turns the kiss into a sloppy one, needing to be closer, deeper inside of your mouth. the way your hand grabs onto his hair, and the other one cups his jaw, pushes him over the limit. his hands find your waist, pulling you even closer, the heat between both of you igniting a fire that can’t be surpressed. his mind is completely blank. the only thing he wants to do is to fully lose himself in you, but the way you play with his tongue - with confidence and passion, keeps him just on edge.

• pussy - just how his lips are made for kissing, they also share their purpose in life for eating you out.

one of the things that gets him most - watching you take your shorts off before going to bed - knowing that he could take your remaining panties off with just a little tug, leaving you in nothing but your top. his desires fortunately materialize almost every time, and riki eats you out like a man starved. seeing you get lost in the pleasure he gives you, your hand guiding his head, feeling the way his tongue hits just the right spots, your hips buckling every time he makes a noise - it not only makes you lose your mind, but him too, even more so.

• beads of sweat - hear me out now.

sweat is an everyday thing for him - he’s a dancer. a small trickle of sweat slowly trailing down your neck, catching the light and glistening like a tiny drop of desire absolutely hypnotizes him - his eyes can’t help but follow it’s path, every second feeling like it stretches on forever as it makes it’s way towards the curve of your collarbone, then lower, disappearing beneath the fabric of your top. it’s a small detail, something incredibly simple, but it makes riki’s breath catch in his throat. there’s something about the way your skin shimmers with that fine sheen, how your body reacts to the heat in the room, that drives him absolutely wild. he wants to reach out, to touch you, to feel the heat of your skin, but he’s frozen, his thoughts completely consumed by the sight.

• introducing you to his friends - a very important moment for riki is introducing his girlfriend to his buddies.

the way you carry yourself, a mix of grace and subtle confidence, has a magnetic pull on him. there’s something about the way you interact with his friends - so naturally, yet with that quiet intensity, that stirs something deep within him. your smile, the way you laugh at their jokes and how your hand brushes his as you navigate the group only heightens the tension he feels. your scent, the way you tilt your head when speaking, every small detail only draws him in further - feelings of pride taking over both of his heads.

• your neckline - he is a neckline SUCKER.

𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚𝜗𝜚

enjoy:)

*note* - all of the information stated below is my personal opinion!! sizes are in centimetres.

𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚𝜗𝜚

• heeseung - my man is BIG. like… from his height and build to his confidence and charisma.. yall know it’a a fact. that big fella in his pants does NOT lie. he strikes me as a grower, 12 when soft, 16 hard.

• jay - my other man is also pretty above average. his whole vibe gives him out.. it’s always them funny, spectacular, kind, talented, gorgeous, majestic, god-like mfs.. anyways i got carried out. he’s not huge like hee, but definitely big enough to rock someone’s world left AND right. a grower, 11 when soft, 14 hard.

• jake - he gives big dick energy, but is pretty average imo. his loss in inches definitely compensates in other things tho.. his flow and movement are BEYOND amazing.(his finger action too but that’s a story for another time). jake is somewhere between a grower and a shower - he grows, but not that much. 9 soft, 11 hard.

• sunghoon - oh this man is PACKING. period. when he feels himself on camera you can definitely see where i’m coming from - his change in demeanor, his stance, his gaze.. oh my god, #ineedthat . he looks like a person who isn’t usually cocky about it, but there are rare instances when he just can’t help himself. def a grower, somewhere between hee and jay - 11-12 soft, 15 hard.

• sunoo - this one’s hard.. like lowkey(pun not intended). i think he’s a bit above average, purely based on vibes. most people would probably expect him to be anywhere below average, or average, but nuh uh. the cutie patooties are ALWAYS chill like that. just like jakey jakey he is a grower, but not that big of a grower. 10 soft, 11-12 hard.

• jungwon - this cutie on the other hand is average, as much as it pains me to say it. just like jake tho, he compensates in other things and makes you feel more loved than ever during the boombayah, take my word as gospel. jungwon’s a shower - 9 soft and hard.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆

• 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 - sunghoon can barely keep his fangs to himself

• 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 - human fem!reader x vampire!sunghoon

• 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 - 508

• 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 - none

• 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚 - hi freaksters, sorry for disappearing for such a long time.. now treat urselves with some sungGOON content :*

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆.

The night pressed close around you and Sunghoon, thick with the weight of something unspoken, shown only by the cracks of your deepest desires. The rain whispered quietly against the windows of your home, a hush that only deepened the unbearable tension between two still bodies and one trembling breath.

You stood before him, unaware of the way your very being ignited something ancient in his blood. Or perhaps you were – and that was somehow worse.

The hair spilling on your shoulders was pulled to one side by Sunghoon’s cold hands, exposing the nape of your neck like an open wound, bare and soft to the touch. His fingers brushed the porcelain-like surface, the touch featherlight, yet chilling, forcing a sharp inhale from your lungs. Hoon stepped closer to you, his broad chest almost against your back now, breath cool as it met your skin. He tilted his head, the tip of his nose grazing just beneath your ear, where warmth pulsed and begged. Your body stiffened – not in fear, never in fear – but in anticipation.

Sunghoon’s lips parted, and you could feel the faintest drag of his sharp fangs against the goosebumps of your neck. Not piercing, not even pressing – just there, aching with the promise of something he could never allow himself to do. His breath shuddered, exhaling words he didn’t dare to speak out loud.

“Do you feel what you do to me?” - he whispered, so low, so quietly, you weren’t sure if he actually uttered those words into existence.

You turned your head ever so slightly, only enough for your cheek to meet his, a tender and electrifying touch all at once.

“Yes'' - you replied- ''that is precisely why I’m too afraid to move.”

Sunghoon’s hand came up and slid along the side of your arm until it reached your wrist. His grip was gentle, trembling, but firm enough to feel the pulse beneath his thumb. A truly maddening rhythm, so alive it echoed in his own undead silence.

And then, suddenly, his lips found the nape of your neck.

He didn’t bite. He didn’t need to. The touch alone was ruinous.

He kissed the spot once, then again, much slower this time – with utmost reverence, with restraint that fractured with each second that passed by. Hoon’s fangs grazed your skin now, faint and fleeting, dancing on the edge of destruction. One wrong movement and he would lose himself. Just a single pleading sigh from you and he would sink into your skin like dusk into the horizon.

But he didn’t.

He pressed his forehead to your neck, chest rising and falling in ragged breaths, every muscle straining against the urge to consume. And you – foolish, yet brave – reached back, fingers slipping into Sunghoon’s hair, grounding him.

“Don’t stop.” - you whispered.

A curse in disguise.

He didn’t. He couldn’t. But still, he didn’t bite.