Heeseung's first year of university basically consisted of being the center of attention without wanting to be. It didn't matter if he crossed campus with his head down or sat at the back of the classroom trying to blend in with the walls; he was impossible to ignore.
He was over six feet tall, had flawless features that looked hand-sculpted, and a voice that, on the rare occasions he dared to use it in public, was low, soft, sweet as honey, and heavenl sexy.
As if that weren't enough, when he stepped onto the basketball court and shed his shyness for a couple of hours, he became a spectacle. Girls, guys, upperclassmen, half the university had their eyes on him.
But that whole facade of the "perfect" and unattainable guy crumbled the second someone approached him to talk.
Heeseung was uncomfortably nervous.
If a professor asked him a direct question, he'd get tongue-tied; if someone smiled at him in the cafeteria, he'd blush and trip over his own feet. He was awkward, endearing, and desperately shy—a contradiction that had obsessed you from day one. You'd been hunting him with your eyes for weeks, watching his lips form a small, unconscious pout whenever he concentrated or became anxious.
⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯
The perfect opportunity came at the end of the month, right after final exams. Heeseung, in a moment of pure kindness, had let one of his friends blatantly copy his answers.
In gratitude, his group practically dragged him to the infamous homecoming party at the house of one of the professors' sons. He wasn't entirely convinced—he knew college parties usually involved cheap alcohol, hazing, and cruel jokes aimed at freshmen—but he eventually gave in because his friends promised that "nothing would go wrong."
By the time the night was in full swing, the house was a chaotic mess of distorted music, dim lighting, and the smell of beer mixed with poorly smoked cigarettes. Against all odds, Heeseung was having a good time. He held a plastic cup of rum and coke, adding more soda than necessary to dilute the alcohol, chuckling to his friends, and loosening up a bit.
On the other side of the room, you were hanging out with Ni-ki and other upperclassmen. Ni-ki, with a mocking smile, started suggesting a bet, pointing toward the second-floor stairwell where the chaos of the "welcome" for the freshmen—sex with cheerleaders—could already be heard.
"Let's see... who's going to be the next cow to go and be marked?" Ni-ki asked, scanning the room for victims.
You didn't take your eyes off Heeseung's silhouette for a second. You saw him laughing with his back to you. His purple hair disheveled from the sweat in the air. You took a final sip of the little alcohol left in your glass, feeling the heat burn your throat, and smiled slightly.
"I'll take care of that calf," you said, pointing directly at the most popular and shyest guy on campus.
You slammed your empty glass down on the coffee table and stood up. You walked confidently through the crowd, dodging dancing bodies, until you were right behind him. You gave him a couple of gentle taps on the shoulder to get his attention as quickly as possible.
When Heeseung turned around, his cheeks already flushed from the alcohol, he met your gaze. Before he could process the surprise or try to utter a word, you leaned close to his ear, letting your breath brush against his skin.
"Come with me," you whispered, with a certainty that left him frozen, the hairs on his skin standing on end at the depth of your voice against the music playing on the other side.
Without giving him time to hesitate or consult with his friends, you took his hand. His fingers were long and warm, but they tensed immediately when you intertwined yours with his.
You led him upstairs, ignoring the noises of the party below, until you reached one of the empty rooms in the hallway. You entered, and the sound of the door closing and the click of the lock as you passed through felt like silencing a thousand voices—literally. Heeseung stood in the middle of the room, his heart pounding.
The silence in the room suddenly felt heavy, broken only by the heavy music that boomed from downstairs as if the speakers were mounted on the ceiling.
Heeseung froze, his back rigid, those large, doe-like eyes fixed on you, completely... scared, you could say. When you took the first step toward him, he let out a low, nervous giggle, an adorable sound that prostrated how much his legs were shaking. He tried to take a step back, purely out of instinct, but his long strides led nowhere.
You approached slowly, closing the distance like a hunting lion, forcing him backward until the backs of his knees hit the edge of the bed. His eyes widened slightly as, unable to stop himself, he slumped down onto the mattress.
He stayed there, frozen, staring upward as you stood between his open legs. Heeseung clenched his fists on the sheets, crumpling the fabric tightly as he tried to control his breathing. You leaned toward him, trapping him with one arm at his side, and reached out to stroke his cheek. His skin was already burning; you couldn't tell if it was from the heat, nerves, or the alcohol.
"Am I scaring you, Heeseungie?" you whispered, a sly smile playing on your lips. "You looked so comfortable downstairs with your glass, but here... you look like you're about to faint."
Heeseung swallowed, feeling your presence like a magnet. That unconscious pout formed on his lips as he tried to meet your gaze, his face flushed red.
"No... n-no, it's not that..." he managed, his voice soft and low, cracking with nerves. "It's just... I didn't expect you to pull me away so quickly. My friends are going to notice I'm gone and—"
"It's not like it's going to take us that long.." You chuckled, running your fingers down his neck, brushing against his Adam's apple. "No one's going to come looking for you here. Besides.. do you really want to leave? Tell me and I'll open the door for you right now."
He was quiet for a couple of seconds, staring at your lips with an obviousness that betrayed him. He licked his own, eager, and gripped the sheets tighter.
"I.. No..." he admitted in a thread of a voice, almost a whisper. "I-I don't want to leave, hehe... I was.. I'm just saying."
"That's more like it." You whispered sweetly in his ear, leaning in a little closer so your breath brushed against his skin. "You know, I've been seeing you on campus for weeks, Heeseung... I love it when you get all awkward like this. You're so damn cute... and I've been wanting you."
Those words finally brought him back to his senses. Heeseung let out a shaky gasp, completely overwhelmed by the situation, the tingling in his groin intensifying as he caught a whiff of your perfume.
"R-really?" he stammered, looking up at you with those dilated eyes in the darkness. "I thought... I thought that someone like you wouldn't even notice me, I mean, I barely speak in class.."
"Well, you see, I did. And now I have you all to myself," you said, finally capturing his mouth in a kiss.
Heeseung gasped in surprise against your lips, but he didn't pull away. You tilted your head slightly to deepen the contact, savoring the subtle sweetness of the soda he'd been drinking downstairs. At first, he wasn't sure what to do with his hands, but he soon relaxed, responding awkwardly and slowly, letting the soft, wet sound of your lips meet fill the space between you.
Without breaking the kiss, you gently slid to the floor, kneeling between his legs, your hands moving to his waist. With slow movements, your fingers unbuckled his belt as well as unbuttoned his pants and slowly lowered the zipper. Heeseung tensed his thighs on the bed as he felt your knuckles brush against his pelvis.
You pulled away from his lips, leaving a strand of saliva connecting them for a second, and looked up at him with a mischievous smile.
"Damn, Heeseung... you're so hard," you blurted out, letting out a low laugh as you saw him cover his face with his hand in embarrassment. "Don't hide. Let me see you."
"It's your fault..." he protested, his voice husky and his face flushed, though he eventually lowered his hand to his lips to look at you. "You speak... you speak so beautifully, and it makes me so nervous..."
"I noticed," you said, slipping your hands under his underwear to begin caressing him. "But you like it, don't you?"
"Y-yes..." he moaned, throwing his head back as your fingers encircled his hard cock. "Ahh... sh-shit... [ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏], please..."
You pulled his veiny manhood completely out of his boxers. It was large, throbbing, and already dripping a little at the tip. You leaned up for a moment, catching his gaze once more before beginning your torture.
"You look so cute like this, baby..." you whispered, using a soft tone. "So docile for me. Let me take care of everything, mhm? Just enjoy it..."
"Y-yes... do whatever you want..." he managed to murmur, surrendering completely to you, his fingers already searching for your hair for support.
You aligned your lips with the tip of his member, grazing it first with the tip of your tongue, listening to Heeseung catch his breath.
You knew exactly what you were doing, deliberately changing speed, using your hand to guide his base and then enveloping its length with the warmth of your mouth. The very first contact of your tongue sucking on him made him lose himself completely.
Heeseung didn't take long to become vocal, his hand barely clenching between your curls at the sensation and sight of you, your cheeks contracting as you took him almost completely.
"A-ahh... f-fuck..." he moaned, digging his fingers into your head to push you a little further down his shaft. "Ugh... it feels... it feels too good, you're going so.. ah!"
Your lips moved up and down with a steady rhythm, sucking hard at the base and using your tongue to tease around the glans each time you moved up. The contrast between the warm moisture of your mouth and the air, which was beginning to heat up, in the room was driving him wild. Heeseung gasped your name in short bursts, letting out dirty words between his moans.
Your lips continued to descend, swallowing every possible inch until the tip of his cock struck the back of your throat. The reflex was impossible to hide; your body reacted with an involuntary gag, a muffled, wet sound that echoed in the semi-quiet space.
Your eyes instantly filled with tears, blurring your vision as saliva began to trickle from the corner of your mouth, further lubricating its phallus.
Heeseung felt the pressure and extreme warmth of your throat squeezing him completely. The stimulation causing his body to spasm in his abdomen, contracting it.
"Ah... fuck!" he let out in a low cry, his voice completely broken and whining. "You're... you're squeezing me too hard, [ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏]... h-hahh.."
Instead of stopping, you blinked to wipe the tears from your eyelashes and pushed down again, harder, deliberately creating that same stifled sound against his thick flesh. The morbid fascination of the scene prompted his fingers, which before had only clutched fearfully at your hair, to close tightly around the back of your neck.
"Don't stop... k-keep going, please... ahh... please.. nghh.." he begged, his breath ragged and his eyes fixed on how your mouth was devouring his length. "Shit, you're a fucking delight... you're so good at this..."
Heeseung arched his hips forward, abandoning his submissive side. He began to establish a rhythm with slow but deep thrusts, fucking your lips, forcing you to experience his thickness again and again as your throat contracted around him.
Each thrust elicited a gagged moan from you, an echo that made you roll your eyes back. The sheets beneath his hands were completely wrinkled and soaked with his own sweat.
The rhythm became erratic, faster and more desperate on his part. Heeseung's jaw was clenched and his chest rose and fell violently, addicted to the friction of your tongue and the saliva escaping your mouth.
"I'm going to... mmh... ahh... I'm gonna cum!" he warned in a dirty gasp, digging his fingers into your scalp again to slam your face against his pelvis, pushing you down until your nose touched his pubic hair. "Open your mouth wide, fuck... hahhh... swallow it all..."
Heeseung's body tensed completely, his toes curled as he came forcefully inside your mouth. The heat of his semen filled your cavity in several thick, abundant waves.
Your eyes closed from the shock, but you swallowed every drop needily, leaving his cock completely clean as the pumping of his orgasm gradually subsided.
Heeseung let out one last whimper, releasing his grip on your head and falling back onto the bed, completely exhausted and staring blankly at the ceiling, overwhelmed by the intensity of what had just happened.
Slowly you stood up, leaning on his knees and wiping the corner of your lips with the tip of your tongue. You sat down beside him on the mattress and leaned over him, tracing the contours of his chest with your fingertips over his t-shirt.
"You tasted just like I imagined..." you said, returning to that sweet, honeyed tone that had mesmerized him. "You were amazing for your first time. I think... we're going to have to do this more often, don't you—?"
He slowly turned his head to look at you, his cheeks still flushed and a gleam of pure hope in his eyes. A shy, silly smile touched his lips, completely captivated by your words and the promise of a maybe.
"YES—um... yes, of course... I'd really like that..."
OH OH OH, and (to add to previous anon's ask) yakuza Jungwon being so dominant and violent but is lowkey a whiny, demanding sub indoors though he's so indifferent about it
We all need more sassy yandere Sunoo with equally obsessive m!reader who's always looking after him and just patiently waiting (and touchy 🫣🫣🫣🫣🫣)
Why are you making me imagine a story where Sunoo manages to have reader through witchcraft, keeping him at his feet and completely in love? Oh my God. 😲
I'm excited to see Sunghoon as Ghostface 🥺😘😘 😝😝( Oh my god, I'm so anxious 💔💔💔
I hope you like it as much as I hope others like it! Honestly, it's been a very long time since I wrote something so... dark (?), plus I finally wanted to upload something using the "CnC". 🤔
Winter seemed to have slipped under the door, but the cold didn't really come from the weather. It came from the truth.
For weeks you'd felt an unsettling gaze fixed on the back of your neck as you walked down the street, the faint sound of muffled footsteps that stopped just as you turned around, and that disturbing feeling that someone was rearranging things in your room when you weren't there.
Tonight, the paranoia finally materialized.
The silence of your room was broken by the almost imperceptible creak of a floorboard. You froze in bed, your eyes wide open in the middle of the night. From the darkest corner, where the shadows seemed to writhe, emerged a tall figure, shrouded in a black robe that trailed a silky echo. The mask gleamed in the dim moonlight and the streetlamp: spectral, rigid, and perfect..
You wanted to react, but terror dug your nails into the mattress.
In the blink of an eye, the figure moved with agility, with an artistic grace that, you thought, defied gravity. Sunghoon's weight fell upon you, crushing you against the sheets. Your hands tried to push him away, but he caught them mid-air with a single one of his own, interlacing his gloved fingers with yours and slamming them against the plush headboard. You were completely immobilized beneath his body. Through the empty sockets of the mask, you could feel his eyes fixed on you, devouring you.
"You've been running for so long..." his voice emerged in a slow, calm whisper. "Don't you get tired?"
The question hung in the air, its mocking weight only chilling you to the bone. Your mind collapsed in a vortex of panic, and a humiliating wave of heat escaped through your pores; you felt utterly exposed.
The rough fabric of his robe scraped against your thighs as he settled himself more comfortably between your legs, forcing them open completely. Fear paralyzed you, but the friction of his anatomy against yours ignited a spark in your belly that you hated to acknowledge.
Slowly, Sunghoon lowered his gloved hand from your jaw to your neck. His long fingers closed around your throat with excessive force, cutting off your air and forcing your lips open. Your chest heaved violently, searching for oxygen that he no longer claimed as his own.
The world around you was soon tinged with blurry lights, and your pulse pounded in your ears like a frantic engine. You felt death approaching, and at that precise moment, your body betrayed your logic, responding with a rapid, painful, and rigid erection that pressed directly against his pelvis.
Sunghoon noticed the bulge immediately. A low, husky, mocking laugh vibrated against your skin, coming from behind the mask.
"Would you do anything to live, doll?" he asked, tilting his head as he loosened the pressure on your neck just enough to let you draw in a shaky breath, only to immediately seal your lips with the palm of his hand. "I expect your answer to be 'yes.' Because from now on, your life belongs to me."
You tried to bite the leather of his glove, to let out a groan of protest, but he pressed harder, driving your head back into the pillow. He leaned so far forward that the cold plastic of the mask rubbed against your cheek, wet with sweat and pathetic tears, while his plastic lips pressed almost against your ear.
"By the way, don't be surprised if you see the house a little empty... murdering your family was... collateral damage," he said, with an indifferent laugh, so cruel it made your eyes twitch.
"They weren't important, you know? The only person I needed was you; they were just a nuisance." There was a short silence, your ears picking up the sound of his quickening breath. "I've spent entire nights right here.. watching you touch yourself, memorizing how you moan when you're alone.. the way you put your fingers in and squeeze your nipples.."
With an erratic yet expert movement, Sunghoon used the fingers of his free hand to rip your pants off in one swift motion, tearing the fabric along with your underwear.
Your bare skin was exposed to the room's chill, making your teeth chatter. He placed his open palm on your chest.
"Damn... I can hear your heartbeat," he growled, his tone becoming thick, almost animalistic. "It sounds like it's going to burst out... Fuck—I got so hard just thinking about it."
He dropped the knife beside the bed; he no longer needed weapons to torture you. His gloved fingers slid from your chest to your groin, enveloping your erect cock in a firm grip.
The rough, cold leather contrasted savagely with your heat, eliciting a muffled groan that died against his hand. Sunghoon began to masturbate you with a rapid, violent rhythm, deliberately seeking out the pain mixed with pleasure.
Your back arched involuntarily, your thighs trembled as he squeezed your swollen tip, and tears of frustration and stimulation overflowed from your eyes.
He gave you no respite. As his hand milked you mercilessly, Sunghoon stopped covering your lips, unbuckling his own belt. You heard the rustle of his clothing and, shortly after, the imposing heat of his own erection pressing against your thigh. It was completely hard, as rock-hard and hungry as the monster he pretended to be.
Without a single drop of lubricant, guided only by the saliva he wiped from the corners of your mouth, Sunghoon positioned himself. His hand went straight to the back of your neck, pulling your hair back to force you to look into the empty sockets of the mask.
"Look at me, whore," he ordered, his voice breaking with urgency. "Look who's going to deflower you, bitch."
Without warning, he thrust into you in one swift, violent stroke. The burning sensation tore through your belly, a silent, agonizing scream caught in your throat as your eyes opened wide, flooded with tears.
Your body tensed, trying to escape the invasion, but the grip on your hair kept you pinned to the mattress. Sunghoon let out a hoarse growl, pausing for a second to savor the extreme pressure of your walls clinging to him, before beginning to thrust with savage force.
Each thrust was deep, hitting your prostate with little resistance. At first, the pain took your breath away, but the constant friction and the searing heat of his body began to alter your senses.
There was a precise kiss, a touch that sent a jolt straight to your core, making you gasp in a way completely different from the previous ones. Your body, despite the terror, began to yield; the walls of your insides, overwhelmed by the invasion, began to secrete their own moisture, becoming extremely sensitive.
The pain tinged with an overwhelming agony of pleasure, a dirty ecstasy that shamed you but that you couldn't stop.
You felt the leather of his gloves digging into your hips, pinning you to the spot, as he positioned your feet against his shoulders. Your own moans began to turn lascivious, sharp, losing any trace of dignity in the darkness of the night.
You had never experienced anything like this; your complete inexperience worked against you, making each thrust feel three times more intense, pushing you to the limit of your own endurance in a matter of seconds.
You were completely defenseless against the overstimulation, and you were a damn pervert who loved to masturbate.
"Can't you be any more of a slut? You moan like an easy bitch, you'll probably come while I choke you, is that what you want, mm?" he declared, perfectly noticing how your legs trembled and how your walls tightened around him, completely lost in pleasure.
His hand closed around your neck again, squeezing tightly just as the rhythm of his thrusts had slowed, but they increased to that frenzied, unhinged movement.
The lack of air, the wild fucking, and that thick, veiny cock were too much for your virgin body. You couldn't keep up; the hypersensitivity betrayed you immediately.
Your eyes rolled back, lights flickered in your head, and much sooner than you would have liked, your body collapsed in a violent, premature, and uncontrolled orgasm, spurting sperm onto your own abdomen as your muscles contracted tightly around him.
Feeling and seeing your orgasm, Sunghoon let out a hoarse groan from behind the mask, thrusting before coming deep inside you, filling you with his thick seed that made you sob as you felt the hot liquid.
Sunghoon lay motionless over your body, trapping you beneath his weight as his heavy breathing hit the mask.
Slowly, he loosened the pressure of his fingers on your neck, allowing air to return to your lungs in desperate, noisy gasps. Your body continued to tremble in involuntary spasms, completely exhausted and submissive on the damp sheets.
Sunghoon slowly withdrew from you. The rustle of the fabric and his gasps marked the end of the moment, but not the hunt.
He didn't escape through the window as you imagined, nor did he leave you alone. He calmly walked to the bathroom in your room, as if he were already familiar with the place. You heard the water running for a few minutes as you tried, in vain, to regain control of your limbs.
When he returned, he carried a warm, damp towel. He sat on the edge of the bed and gently began to clean the traces of blood, sweat, and fluids from your thighs and abdomen.
His hands moved almost with devotion; you felt as if he were caring for you like his most prized possession—an object worth millions. You could only look at him through the tears that still blurred your vision, paralyzed by shock and the strange warmth of his care.
When he finished, he tossed the towel aside, made sure the room was completely dark, without a trace of light, brought his face close to the back of your neck, and through the fabric covering his mouth, placed a dry kiss on your goosebump-ridden skin.
"Sleep, I'll take care of the bodies. I'll see you tomorrow in class."
quick question (and I don't know if youve answered this yet). whats your first language. i see a lot of notes that english is not your first language and I'm just curious. my first language is korean btwww >-<
Oh! My first language is spanish!!!
Tmi: I've been studying English since I was six, but I stopped and picked it up again about... 8 years ago? around there.
[ ͏ ͏] and Jake met young, two souls whose worlds were never meant to touch. He was a werewolf, intense, ruled only by instincts and the pull of the moon. {user}[ ͏ ͏] was human then, fragile in body but strong in mind. Jake’s love came like wildfire, so passionate, consuming, and utterly devoted.
For three years, lived in that fire together, learning to tame the beast which was unleashed in Jake by any minimal interaction—maximum possessiveness—and finding warmth in arms.
When Jake bonded with [ ͏ ͏], the werewolf’s sacred act, it wasn’t just a mere symbol of 'true love'.
His bite; deep, deliberate, tied their souls together. Werewolves bond once in their lives; it is a sacred promise that endures until death. [ ͏ ͏] felt his heartbeat become theirs, his instincts merge with their emotions.
For Jake, that bond meant forever.
Then came the accident.
[ ͏ ͏] remembered the sound of metal crushing, the scent of blood, and the fading light in their vision.
Jake arrived too late, only in time to see [ ͏ ͏]’s lifeless body being wheeled away. The bond shattered in him like glass.
A werewolf’s bond doesn’t simply vanish; it tears the very soul apart. He howled in grief that night, his chest heavy with a pain that would never fade, his nails scratching every surface, including his own skin.
Sunghoon, [ ͏ ͏]’s best friend. the one who had always harbored quiet affection, couldn’t bear it.
He was there in the hospital, watching Jake crumble, watching [ ͏ ͏] grow distant, cold, a vegetable.
When the nurse left the room, he made his choice.
Jake followed too late.
By the time he entered, Sunghoon’s fangs were already sunk deep into [ ͏ ͏]’s neck, wrists, and legs. Jake’s fury erupted, he struck Sunghoon, shouting, accusing him of desecrating the body of the person he loved.
But then, seconds and minutes that seemed like an eternity, Sunghoon pointed to [ ͏ ͏].
They moved, barely a small spasm in the fingers.
[ ͏ ͏]’s body shivered, their skin changed, and their once-human eyes opened, blood-red and alive again.
Jake froze.
His grief turned to disbelief, fear, anger, then heartbreak. [ ͏ ͏] had returned... but not as the person he knew.
They were now a vampire, [ ͏ ͏] became what his entire pack—and even books full of traditions—asked, demanded him to hate.
The first days were chaos. Jake’s instincts warred with his love. He wanted to protect [ ͏ ͏], yet feared they might hurt someone, or themselves.
[ ͏ ͏]’s hunger was uncontrollable; their eyes turned black with the thirst for blood, even if it were a tiny drop, even if it were running through the veins of anything human.
Jake refused to let them leave the house.
They fought, shouted, even wept. But each time [ ͏ ͏] fell apart, he was there, holding them until the hunger passed, until those moments of self-hatred passed.
When [ ͏ ͏] finally hunted, Jake guided them, finding secluded places, staying close to keep others safe. He watched with quiet awe and silent horror, knowing the one he loved was now something.. immortal, a monster, like him.
The bite they once shared, the bond that had connected them when they were both human and wolf, changed. Jake could feel it.
His wolf sensed that [ ͏ ͏]’s soul had shifted: colder, yet sharper, endless.
The bond was still there, but altered.
It throbbed differently in his chest, no longer pulsing with life, but humming like something ancient. It made him feel both closer to them and unbearably small in comparison.
The first months were hard. Arguments came often, both adjusting to their new instincts and rituals. But their love endured, surviving even their worst fears.
And then, one night beneath the same stars that had witnessed their first kiss, Jake proposed.
He didn’t do it with grand speeches, just a trembling voice, a ring, tons of sweat and a whisper.
“You’re my forever, no matter what you are.”
The wedding was small, hidden from human-wolf-vampire eyes. It took place in the forest where Jake first confessed his love. The air shimmered with moonlight, their vows echoing in both languages, the old tongue of wolves and the soft cadence of vampires.
And, when Jake kissed [ ͏ ͏], it felt like the bond reignited, eternally.
Their honeymoon was an escape, an island where time seemed to pause.
They walked under the moonlight, [ ͏ ͏]’s hand in his, their skin pale and unchanging against his warmth.
It was perfect, fleeting, and achingly mortal.
But after the celebrations faded, reality returned.
Jake began to age.
Slowly, imperceptibly at first, a wrinkle by his eyes, a strand of silver in his hair.
Werewolves live longer than humans, yes, sometimes up to two centuries, their bodies sustained by primal energy.
Yet to [ ͏ ͏]; immortal, ageless, each sign of his aging felt like a countdown.
He laughed when [ ͏ ͏] brought it up, brushing it away with a grin and a kiss.
“I’ll still be yours, even when I’m bones.”
But [ ͏ ͏] couldn’t shake the thought.
While he would grow old, they would remain the same; the same face, the same body, untouched by time. The thought of watching him fade filled [ ͏ ͏] with quiet dread.
Sometimes, when Jake was asleep beside them, his warmth pressed against their cold skin, [ ͏ ͏] would look at him and cry silently—as if they could, knowing that eternity meant nothing without him.
Jake, ever perceptive, sensed it.
One night, he cupped their face in his rough, scarred hands and whispered: “Don’t mourn me before I’m gone. You’ve given me more life than I ever thought I’d have.”
[ ͏ ͏] smiled, but deep down, the truth lingered, one day, he would be gone, and they would remain. The werewolf’s love would end with time, but [ ͏ ͏]’s would stretch on, eternal, endless, and aching for the warmth that once held it.
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