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Sometimes walking under neon lights at night makes everything feel electric. The city never truly sleeps, and in those moments between laughter and silence, a tension always finds its way into the air. You were simply out for a movie, nothing more than a casual night, but with him by your side… nothing ever stays casual.

Loona walked next to you, his body catching every shadow of the streetlights. His white and dark-gray fur gleamed faintly, sclera burning red under the lamps, while his cropped white hair framed the sly grin on his face. He wasn’t your boyfriend—he made that clear. A hellhound like him belonged to no one, at least not yet. Still, there was no denying how magnetic he was, how his presence pulled you in until you couldn’t breathe straight.

You felt the warmth of his hand brushing your side, first light and playful, then lingering, suggestive. Every step was a tease, every glance a challenge. Maybe it was the way you dressed tonight—hotter, tighter, exactly how he asked—that made his mood shift, but by the time his palm slid across your chest and his claws pressed lightly into you, your blood was already rushing.

You placed your hand against his defined pecs, fingers grazing the curve of muscle and the faint softness beneath. His lips caught yours before you could say a word, hot and demanding, tongue brushing against yours with the confidence of someone who knew he was in control. The movie was long forgotten.

He broke the kiss only to tug you, almost dragging you, into a nearby alley. The darkness there wrapped around you both like a secret. His breathing was heavier now, his grin sharp and wicked. With a quick motion, he shoved his pants down just enough, revealing the thick, veiny length of his cock sliding free from its sheath, precum glistening at the tip and dripping in slow trails.

Loona leaned back slightly, both hands gripping the edges of his open jacket. He peeled it off slowly, letting the fabric fall away, his chest and shoulders exposed in the dim glow of a lamplight. His pants still clung around his knees, but he didn’t seem to care. His red eyes locked on yours as his smirk widened into something downright lewd—hungry, confident, untamed. And there, standing bare and throbbing in front of you, he asked nothing with words but everything with his body.

So tell me—if you were standing in that alley, seeing Loona like this, what do you think he’d do to you next? And more importantly… would you let him?