callmenigma

[callmenigma]

His - Part 2

Here is the second and the last part of the 'His'.

Pairing: Jinu x Fem!reader Warning: NSFW, smut, human/demon relationship, smut, vaginal fingering, penis in vagina, rough sex, hair pulling, creampie

Tags: @bypanana

*

You arched back against him with a soft, desperate sound, your body seeking his instinctively—your hips pressing against the undeniable hardness straining behind his pants. You could feel how ready he was, how much he wanted you. How much he'd been wanting you.

And it sent a pulse of heat straight through you.

You turned your head, trying to glance over your shoulder, to see him—those glowing golden eyes that always undid you. You’d seen him like this before: the lilac markings blooming across his skin, the faint otherworldly energy curling around him like a second skin. A being that wasn’t meant to exist in the same world as you, and yet—

He belonged to you.

And you to him.

You managed to catch a glimpse—those burning amber-gold eyes fixed entirely on you, like you were the only thing that existed. And gods, he was beautiful. Terrifyingly so. A creature born of shadow and fire and hunger, and still somehow looking at you like you were something divine.

Your breath caught in your throat, but before you could say anything, his fingers flexed between your legs—reminding you exactly where you were.

"Ah, ah," he chided, voice smooth and wicked, his smirk pressed against your neck. “Eyes forward, little prey. No peeking.”

His fingers moved just slightly, enough to make your knees tremble.

“Didn’t anyone teach you it’s dangerous to look back when you’re being hunted?”

He chuckled when you whimpered, squirming as his fingers ghosted closer—just barely circling your entrance under your panties without giving you what you were silently begging for.

“You’re getting impatient,” he murmured, voice thick with dark pleasure. “Tried so hard to run from me… and now you’re pushing back into my hand like a needy thing.”

You trembled.

“Tell me, sweet girl... how much do you want me?”

You whimpered softly, hips twitching against his hand as your fingers clutched at the one still wrapped around your jaw. Your voice came out breathy, raw with need.

“So much… please, Jinu— I’ll be good. I promise.”

That did something to him.

He chuckled—low and warm, the sound rich with satisfaction and something almost reverent.

“You will, huh?” he murmured. “My perfect little prey, begging so sweetly…”

Then he felt it.

The subtle shift of your hips, the press of your thighs trying to close—trying to create just a little friction, just enough to relieve the ache building between your legs.

And his grin sharpened.

“Ohh,” he breathed, amused. “Trying to sneak a little pleasure, are we? Even when I’m right here? While my hand is on your dripping cunt?”

You gasped at the word, at how filthy it sounded in his voice—so dark and possessive it made your knees weak.

He nuzzled into your neck again, and this time, he let his fingers press a little harder, sliding down just enough to ghost over your entrance—still not giving you what you craved, but letting you feel just how close he was.

“You want me to give you one finger?” he whispered. “Maybe two?” Another kiss behind your ear.

His glowing eyes were locked on the way your body writhed for him, desperate and trembling and so achingly his.

“Please…”

And gods, he’d never loved anything more.

You bit down on your lip, hard, trying to hold in the moan that clawed up your throat as his finger finally—finally—slid into you. Slowly. Deeply.

Your head fell back against his shoulder with a soft thunk, your eyes fluttering closed, and your legs—gods, your legs—buckled under the slow, stretching pressure of him inside you.

“F—fuck,” you gasped, hands scrabbling at his forearm, trying to stay upright, but it was useless. You were already shaking.

Jinu chuckled, low and pleased, as he held you up like you weighed nothing—one arm still wrapped securely around your middle, the other buried between your legs, his long finger curling inside you with maddening precision.

“Ohh, there she is,” he purred, dragging his lips down the side of your throat. “My perfect girl, falling apart already. Can’t even stand, can you?”

You whimpered in response, half a sob, your body melting against him.

He felt it.

The way you buckled onto his hand like your body was trying to get off on one finger alone, shameless and desperate.

He groaned at the sensation—your heat, your tightness, the slick sound of you taking him so greedily.

“Look at you,” he growled, voice darker now. “In the middle of the fucking street, and you’re dripping around my hand like this. Humping my fingers like a needy little thing.”

You let out a strangled sound, somewhere between a moan and a broken plea.

And then, without warning—he added a second finger.

You cried out, your whole body jolting in his hold, your head pressing hard against his shoulder, the stretch just this side of too much—but it was perfect.

“Shhh,” he murmured, kissing behind your ear, voice thick with heat. “Just a little more. Gotta make sure you can take me, pretty girl.”

His fingers moved, slow and deliberate, scissoring slightly, curling again to find that devastating spot inside you.

He groaned again, the sound almost pained with how hard he was now, his cock straining against his pants with every sound you made, every little flutter of your body around his fingers.

You whimpered, unable to hold still, grinding back into his hand with a desperation that left no room for shame.

And then his voice dropped, low and lethal, molten heat poured right into your ear:

“Tell me, sweet thing—would you take me here?”

He paused, fingers buried deep inside you, letting you feel the tension, the weight of the moment.

“Right now, right against this wall, while the city keeps walking by?” His mouth found your neck again, kissing it slowly, hungrily. “Would you let me fuck you where anyone could see?”

You nodded frantically, the movement sharp and desperate.

“Yes—yes, please—”

His grin widened.

“Would you be my best girl?” he asked, voice rough with possession. “Let me take you right here… let me have you like this? Trembling and soaked and mine?”

You nodded again, breath catching as you rocked helplessly on his fingers.

“Anything,” you whispered. “I’ll be anything—just take me, please, Jinu—please—”

And gods, that sound?

That broken, pleading need?

It was his undoing.

His hunger. His heaven.

And tonight, he’d make sure you never forgot what it meant to be caught.

Jinu’s fingers slid out of you with a slow, wet sound that made your breath hitch—and then, suddenly, his arm was gone.

He let you go.

Your legs buckled instantly, and you nearly crumpled, but your hands shot forward at the last second—pressing against the wall in front of you to keep yourself upright. Barely. Your palms splayed out flat against the rough surface as your body trembled, thighs shaking violently beneath the weight of your need.

You mewled, a desperate, broken sound—your hips arching back toward him instinctively.

You felt empty.

Your cunt clenched around nothing, fluttering hopelessly where his fingers had just been. You didn’t want him to let go. You didn’t want space. You wanted him inside.

“J-Jinu,” you whimpered, breath hitching as your forehead dropped against the cool surface of the wall.

But he only pulled away a step—only long enough.

Only long enough to free himself.

You heard the rustle of fabric, the metallic sound of his zipper sliding down, and then—

Fuck.

He groaned low, rough in the back of his throat as his cock sprang free—thick, heavy, flushed dark and already leaking at the tip.

He didn’t hesitate.

One large hand gripped your hip while the other shoved your tiny skirt up over your ass, baring you completely to him.

Your panties were soaked—clinging to your heat like a second skin—and he hooked one finger in the fabric and dragged them aside, baring your slick folds to the night air.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he growled, his voice shaking with restraint.

Jinu leaned forward, his chest flush against your back, his mouth brushing your ear as he thrust against you once, slow and thick, not entering—just letting you feel.

“You want this,” he whispered, voice filthy and reverent all at once.

You whimpered, eyes fluttering shut as your hips rocked back instinctively. You couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe—just felt, every inch of your skin on fire for him.

“You need a demon,” he purred, grinding again. “Not some soft, trembling human who wouldn’t know what to do with you.”

His teeth scraped over your ear, his voice dark with hunger.

“You need me. You need the one who chased you, caught you, owns you.”

He pulled back just enough to drag the head of his cock through your folds, sliding against your soaked entrance, teasing the stretch you were desperate for.

“Say it,” he murmured, lips against your cheek, his hips just barely flexing.

“I need you,” you gasped, pressing back hard, trying to take him in. “Please—I need you, Jinu—no one else—just you—”

He groaned, deep and primal.

“Gods, listen to you,” he growled. “Begging for a demon in the middle of the street.”

He pushed forward just an inch—enough to breach you, to feel your walls flutter and grip—and fuck, he shuddered.

“You are mine,” he whispered, and there was nothing teasing about it now. Just raw, aching possession. “You’ll take every inch, won’t you, pretty thing?”

You nodded, voice wrecked.

“Y—yes, Jinu. All of it. All of you.”

He smiled, sharp and hungry.

And then, he gave you what you begged for.

Jinu didn’t wait.

He pushed forward—slow, deep, devastating.

A guttural moan tore from his throat as he sank into you, inch by inch, until he was buried to the hilt. Your walls clenched around him, slick and tight, and he swore under his breath like it physically hurt to feel something so perfect.

His grip on your hips tightened—hard, possessive. His fingers dug into your skin with bruising force, holding you in place, anchoring himself as your body took every thick, throbbing inch of him.

He’d deal with the bruises later. You would feel him tomorrow—he’d make sure of it.

You let out a strangled cry, your hands clawing at the wall in front of you, nails scraping against the brick as your legs threatened to give out again.

“F-fuck,” you gasped, voice shaking, “so—deep—”

Jinu groaned behind you, his body pressed flush against yours, the heat of his chest searing through your back.

“You feel that?” he growled, his breath hot against your ear. “That’s me—every inch. Stretching this pretty cunt just like you begged for.”

You whimpered, overwhelmed, your forehead pressed to the wall as you fought to stay upright. But gods, it was too much—his size, the way he filled you so perfectly, the bruising grip of his hands keeping you right where he wanted you.

He pulled back just slightly—only to slam forward again, the force of it jolting through your spine, dragging a broken moan from your lips as your body shuddered.

“So fucking tight,” he groaned, thrusting again, harder this time. “Clenching around me like you need this. Like you were made to be filled by me.”

And you were.

You could hear the world continuing just a few meters away—the distant hum of traffic, the chatter of people walking past on the other side of the alley. So close. So unaware.

But none of that mattered.

All you could feel was him.

Jinu’s cock dragging deep, then deeper, every thrust making your walls flutter, your toes curl, your entire body tremble like it didn’t belong to you anymore.

His hand slid from your hip to your stomach, pinning you back against him as he rutted into you with relentless rhythm, his other hand braced above yours on the wall.

“Such a good girl,” he breathed, voice ragged with lust. “Taking me like this. Letting me fuck you where anyone could see. Letting me ruin you.”

You whimpered again, eyes fluttering, overwhelmed by the stretch, the pressure, the sheer intimacy of it.

And gods—he loved that sound.

“Don’t stop making those pretty noises,” he hissed. “Let me hear how good I make you feel. Let them all hear it.”

He slammed into you again, and your cry rang out before you could swallow it down.

“That’s it,” he growled, his mouth at your neck, fangs grazing your skin. “You’re mine, sweet girl. All mine.”

And in that moment, between the heat and the pressure and the praise, there was no one else in the world.

Just you.

And the demon who would never stop chasing you—because he’d already caught you.

And he’d never let you go.

Jinu could feel it.

The way your walls clenched around him, tighter with every thrust—your body fluttering, trembling, pleading.

You were so close.

Your moans had gone breathless, almost broken, your fingers scrambling against the brick as if trying to ground yourself while your hips met his with wild, frantic need.

“Fuck,” he growled against your neck, breath hot and uneven. “You’re close, aren’t you? I can feel it—your sweet little cunt’s about to squeeze the life out of me.”

You whimpered in response, nodding, gasping his name like a prayer.

“I know you’re close,” he growled, pulling back just enough to see your face. “You gonna come for me, sweet girl?”

You nodded again, frantic, panting. “J-Jinu—so close—I—”

His hips stuttered. Just once.

Because fuck, he was close too.

Too close.

He didn’t slow—he couldn’t—but he shifted, grabbing a fistful of your hair and pulling you up, your back arching beautifully against his chest. His mouth was on yours the second your head tipped back, claiming you with a kiss that was nothing short of savage.

He drank down every mewl, every whimper, devouring your sounds like they were the only thing keeping him alive.

“Taste so fucking good,” he panted against your lips. “You gonna come for me, pretty girl? Gonna make a mess all over my cock?”

You whimpered against his mouth, your whole body shuddering.

He was so deep, every thrust hitting that devastating spot inside you with unrelenting precision—and still, somehow, he held back. Barely. He wanted to fall with you.

Your body trembled like you were barely holding on, and he wanted it. All of it.

He kissed you again, biting your bottom lip before pulling back, panting against your mouth.

“Come with me,” he growled. “You feel that? How close I am? You’re gonna let me fill you up, pretty girl?”

You whimpered, nodding frantically, breath hitching as your fingers clawed at the wall in front of you.

“W-where do you want it?” he rasped, his voice nearly breaking. “Tell me, baby. Tell me.”

Your voice cracked, barely audible over the slap of skin and your own mewling moans.

“Inside,” you whispered. “Please—I want it inside—Jinu, please—now—”

That was all it took.

He slammed into you one last time, buried to the hilt as his grip on your hips tightened and his fangs grazed your neck—not biting, just owning.

You shattered with a cry, your climax crashing through you like a wave—your entire body locking up, hips jerking, eyes rolling back as you came hard around him, spasming and pulsing and gasping his name like it was the only word you remembered.

And Jinu—

He followed you instantly.

With a low, guttural growl, he spilled inside you, hips stuttering as he came deep, heat pouring into you in thick, pulsing waves. He held you tight—one arm around your stomach, the other buried in your hair—as if grounding himself in the feeling of you milking him for every last drop.

You were still shaking when he slumped forward, mouth at your shoulder, breath ragged, his body trembling against yours.

“Good girl,” he whispered hoarsely. “My perfect fucking girl…”

And for a moment—just a moment—the city was silent, the chaos of the world forgotten, and there was only this:

You. Him. And the fire between you that would never burn out.

[callmenigma]

True form

Pairing: Jinu x Fem!reader Warning: Demon/Human love, fear of rejection, pain, love, hurt/comfort *

The car didn’t stop.

You never saw it coming.

One second, you were stepping off the sidewalk, laughing at something Jinu had said—and the next, the world tilted. Screams. Tires screeching. A blinding flash of headlights.

And then—

Arms around you. A blur of motion. Wind, heat, him.

Your back hit the alley wall, safely out of the street. Jinu stood between you and the chaos, chest heaving, body trembling like a live wire about to snap. He held you tight, shielding you from the debris as glass and smoke filled the air. His heartbeat thundered against your back, his breathing ragged—but he didn’t feel pain.

He felt relief.

And then—he felt you still.

Safe.

Alive.

You pulled back slightly, dazed and breathless, clutching at his shirt before you froze.

Your fingers twitched.

You looked up at him—

And froze.

He wasn’t Jinu anymore.

Or—he was.

But not just Jinu.

His black eyes were gone, replaced by burning gold. His skin shimmered faintly, glowing markings—lilac, curved like ancient ink—tracing down his neck and arms. His canines were longer, sharper. His fingers slightly clawed where they gripped the wall beside your head.

You stepped away slowly, eyes wide. “What…?”

Jinu blinked at you, confused.

“…Jinu?” you whispered.

You reached up hesitantly, your fingers brushing his forearm, eyes trailing the glowing marks dancing across his pale skin.

Then, with a shaky smile that didn’t reach your eyes, you whispered, “Okay, so… surprise magician trick? New glow-in-the-dark tattoo?”

He blinked.

Then looked down at himself.

His heart stopped.

The stripes were visible. His claws were out. His skin shimmered with that soft, unnatural glow—and his golden eyes reflected back at him in the glass of the nearby window like a stranger.

“No,” he whispered.

His hand dropped from your waist as he stepped back once. Then again.

You watched him, your smile faltering.

“Jinu…”

He kept backing away.

“No. No—fuck,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair, barely registering how his claws tangled in the strands. “You weren’t supposed to—this wasn’t—I didn’t mean—”

You took a step forward. He flinched.

“Don’t.”

The word sliced through the air, sharp and raw.

“I didn’t—” he shook his head, voice unsteady. “I didn’t want you to see this.”

You stood frozen, your chest tight with confusion and something that felt dangerously close to heartbreak.

“Why?” you asked softly.

He looked at you—fully now.

Eyes glowing. Breathing uneven. Shoulders tense, like the very air around him was too much to carry.

“Because I’m not—” he started, then stopped. Then started again, faster now, words tumbling over each other like they were being chased.

“I’m not what you think I am. I’m not just Jinu. I haven’t been—not for a long time. I’m not human anymore. I—I tried to keep it buried, I swear I did. I tried to be enough. For you. For us. But it’s in me. And I—fuck—I can’t—”

His hands curled into fists at his sides, trembling.

“I crave things I shouldn’t,” he said, voice cracking. “I hear a voice every goddamn day, telling me to take, to ruin, to destroy, that I'm not enough. And when I’m with you, when you’re near me—it goes quiet. For the first time in years, it’s quiet.”

His eyes were wide now, panic bleeding into every word.

“You make it stop. You make everything stop. And if I hurt you—if I ever lose control—”

His voice broke.

“I couldn’t live with that. I’d rather you hate me than ever have to watch myself hurt you.”

They stared at each other.

For a long moment, the world went quiet—no cars, no shouting, no wind. Just the two of them.

Jinu’s chest heaved, each breath more ragged than the last. His eyes, golden and burning, refused to blink. His claws trembled where they hung by his sides. Stripes of soft lilac flickered faintly beneath the surface of his skin—glowing like something sacred, something dangerous.

You couldn’t look away.

This was not the man you woke up next to every morning. Not the man who whispered I love yous into your hair. Not the man who held your hand like he might break without it.

And yet… it was.

This was still your Jinu.

Changed, yes. Twisted by something ancient, by something powerful—but still him.

Your heart pounded so loud in your chest you could barely hear the wind picking up around you. Your legs trembled, your fingers twitching at your sides.

And then, without meaning to, you took a step forward.

He flinched like you’d struck him.

“No—” Jinu’s voice cracked, desperate. “Don’t come closer.”

Your breath hitched. “But—Jinu—”

“Don’t.” His eyes were wild now, voice raw with something that was too close to terror. “You don’t understand. You can’t understand.”

You stopped, frozen.

“I’ve spent the last year trying to keep this hidden from you,” he rasped. “Because I knew this would happen. I knew that if you ever saw me like this—if you really saw what I am—”

He stepped back again, almost stumbling.

“You’d leave,” he whispered. “And you should.”

Silence.

The wind stirred around you, lifting strands of your hair as you stood there, breath shallow, staring at him like you were trying to memorize the shape of his soul.

“…Why?” you asked.

He swallowed, shaking his head. “Because I’m the thing you’re supposed to run from. I’m the story they warn you about. I’m the shadow at the edge of the bed, the voice that lingers when the lights go out. I’m—” his voice faltered, “—I’m not supposed to be loved.”

You took another step.

Your heart twisted.

He didn’t say it coldly. He said it like it hurt to say. Like he was breaking himself apart just to protect you.

“Jinu—”

“I’m not just glowing eyes and a couple pretty scars,” he said, something in his tone unraveling, as if he was trying not to scream. “This isn’t a fucking fairytale. I’m not cursed. I am the curse.”

“I don’t care what you were told,” you said quietly, “and I don’t care what you are.”

“You should.” His voice dropped, quieter now—tighter. “Because if I lose control, even for a second…”

He looked down at his hands—at the faint glow still pulsing in the stripes across his knuckles.

“…I could hurt you.”

You were so close now. A breath apart.

“You saved my life,” you said.

“And I might destroy it the next time,” he snapped.

His voice broke open on the last word. Not with anger. With grief.

You watched him in the dim light, heart aching in your chest like a bruise.

This wasn’t a monster.

This was the man who had held you at 3 a.m. when your world fell apart. The one who kissed your forehead when you couldn’t sleep. The one who remembered your favorite songs, the way you took your coffee, the look in your eyes when you were overwhelmed.

And now he stood there—glowing, trembling—like his very existence was a crime against your love.

And still…

You stepped closer.

One foot.

Then another.

“I don’t understand,” you whispered, your voice shaking. “I don’t understand what you are. What this is.”

Jinu looked away.

“But I know you,” you added. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

His eyes snapped back to you. “You should.”

“I won’t.”

He took a sharp breath through his nose, fighting the twist in his throat.

“You don’t know what I’m capable of.”

“Then show me,” you said quietly, your voice barely more than a breath. “Let me see what you’re so afraid of.”

He stared at you—like the world tilted sideways. Like everything he’d built to protect you was crumbling one brick at a time under your words.

“I don’t want you to see me like this,” he said, his voice finally soft. “Because I don’t want to see the moment you start to fear me.”

And still… you stepped closer.

Your hand hovered over his chest—just above where his heart thundered beneath the glowing patterns of his skin.

“I don’t fear you,” you whispered. “I love you.”

And maybe that was the most terrifying thing of all.

Because in that moment, he looked at you like you were the one glowing.

Like you were the miracle.

The silence that erased the voices.

The light that made even monsters believe they could be loved.

You stood before him.

Close now—close enough to see the sharp curve of his jawline trembling, the way his chest stilled like he was bracing for a blow that hadn’t come yet. His glowing eyes darted between yours, and still, he didn’t breathe.

As if waiting.

And then—

Slowly, carefully—you reached up.

Your fingers hesitated just for a second, hovering by his cheek before brushing gently against his skin.

It was warm.

Softer than you expected.

And beneath your palm, the faintest vibration—like a hum. A low, subtle energy pulsing through the glowing stripes that curved along the side of his face. They weren’t just markings. They moved, like living things, faint and magical beneath the surface.

You gasped quietly, more in awe than fear.

Jinu’s eyes fell shut.

His brow pinched, his jaw tightening.

Like your touch hurt—not physically, but in that unbearable way that only love can ache when it’s not sure if it’s deserved.

You didn’t move your hand.

You whispered, gently, “What are you?”

A long pause followed.

He didn’t open his eyes.

When he answered, his voice was a low, broken thing. “Something I never asked to be.”

Your chest ached at the way he said it.

He opened his eyes slowly—those burning, golden eyes—and looked at you like he was preparing to say goodbye.

“…I’m a demon.”

There it was.

Spoken aloud for the first time.

The word hung in the air like ash.

And he watched you. Closely. Searching for the thing he feared most. Like he’d already given up hope that you could look at him the same way ever again.

The flicker of fear in your eyes.

The recoil. The silence. The inevitable step back. The look that said you’re not what I thought you were.

The look that meant you’re no longer mine.

He waited.

Braced for it.

He deserved it.

But it never came.

Instead, you smiled.

Soft. Warm. Disbelieving, almost. And then, you whispered:

“You’re beautiful.”

His breath caught in his throat.

For a moment, he didn’t speak. Couldn’t. His brows drew together again—this time not in pain, but disbelief. His lips parted, like he wanted to protest, to correct you, to say you don’t understand what I’ve done.

But no words came.

Your thumb brushed just beneath his eye, where a violet stripe flickered like a heartbeat.

You just smiled. Gently. Steadily. Not like someone who’d seen a monster—but like someone who saw him.

Jinu blinked.

His throat tightened. He didn’t know what to do with that—your voice, your eyes, your impossible softness in the face of what he truly was. He didn’t know how to hold that kind of grace.

Of all the things you could’ve said, that wasn’t one he’d prepared for.

His voice broke again, softer this time. “Why aren’t you afraid of me?”

“Do you love me?”

The question dropped between you like a stone in still water.

He looked at you like he was watching the last light of the sun slip beneath the ocean—knowing it would take him with it.

“I’ve never loved anything more,” he whispered. “And I don’t know if I even deserve to say that, but it’s the only thing that’s ever felt true in me.”

You exhaled, something shaky and relieved. A tiny smile curved your lips as you leaned into him again, both hands now cupping his face.

“Then I have nothing to fear.”

Jinu blinked—confused, lost, unraveling. He didn’t understand.

But you did.

You didn’t need him to be perfect. Or human. Or anything else but his.

You rested your forehead gently against his chest, where his heart still beat beneath glowing skin.

He slowly brought his arms up—hesitant, unsure—until they wrapped around you like they didn’t believe they were allowed to. Like you’d vanish if he moved too fast.

And then, you whispered again, eyes still closed:

“Do you hear Him now?”

He stiffened.

Then realized—

He didn’t.

Not a whisper. Not a hiss. Not even a flicker of Gwi-ma’s voice clawing at the edge of his mind.

Just the sound of your breath.

The rhythm of your heartbeat, nestled so close to his.

The silence.

He sank into it like a man collapsing into a dream he never thought he’d have.

“No,” he breathed. “They’re gone.”

And you just smiled, whispering against his skin—

“Then we’re both safe.”

[callmenigma]

Two sides

His two sides are so different. Pairings: Jinu x Fem!Reader Warning: Obsession, NSFW, Demon/Human sex, dumbification, dirty talk

*

You’d fallen in love with Jinu twice.

First, it was the man—the soft-spoken version of him who kissed your shoulders in the morning, who brought your favorite snacks to late-night rehearsals, who touched you like he was memorizing you one heartbeat at a time. That Jinu whispered I love yous into the crook of your neck, smiled against your skin, held you close even when he didn’t have to.

He made love to you like you were something sacred. Reverent. Careful.

And then… came the truth.

He hadn’t meant to tell you, not really. But one night, breathless and raw with emotion, he’d confessed: “I’m not human anymore.”

At first, you didn’t believe it. And then—he showed you.

The glowing eyes. The lilac markings that crawled over his pale skin like veins of some divine corruption. The inhuman strength, the sharp canines, the hunger.

You begged to see more. To know him.

And eventually… he gave in.

That was the second time you fell in love.

But it was different.

You hadn’t realized how deep the abyss went—how completely the demon would overtake him when unshackled. Gone was the soft-spoken idol, the gentle man who held you like crystal.

What stood above you then was feral.

Eyes glowing like wildfire, stripes burning across his skin like ancient scripture. His voice, deeper. Rougher. Tainted by something dark and primal. And gods, the way he touched you—like your body was his altar. Like you were nothing but pleasure and purpose wrapped in warm skin.

Jinu didn’t just take you—he consumed you.

Because when Jinu gave in—when the demon stepped fully into the light—you learned what it meant to be claimed.

The stripes along his body lit like veins of starlight under pale skin, and his every movement became something animal. Every growl, every sound he made was low and devouring.

And gods, how he loved to ruin you.

“You asked for this, little flame,” he breathed into your ear, his voice a dark purr as your fingers twisted in the sheets beneath you. “Now look at you.”

Your body trembled, your mind already hazy, words half-formed and lost in your throat. You couldn’t think—he wouldn’t let you. Every movement from him was deliberate. Every thrust purposeful, dragging moans and mewls from your lips that made his grin go sharp.

He loved how your thoughts slipped away under him. How your sweet mouth, usually so quick with questions and curiosity, could barely string together a sound, let alone a sentence. He'd hover over you, his lips brushing your temple as he moved inside you with devastating precision.

“You’re so quiet now,” he’d purr. “Where’d that clever brain go, hmm?”

You’d try—gods, you'd try to answer—but it would just be another broken moan, another gasp, your fingers clinging to him like he was the only solid thing left in the world.

“Empty little head now, isn’t it?” he whispered, almost in awe. “Just like I like it. Nothing up there but me.”

You couldn’t even deny it.

Not when he was inside you. Around you. Everywhere.

Not when he moved just right—just once—and your entire body arched like he’d struck a chord only he could reach.

He groaned at the way you responded, the way your thighs shook, the way you clung to him like he was the only thing tethering you to earth.

“Perfect,” he murmured. “So good for me. My obedient little angel.”

And the worst part?

You loved it.

You loved how easily you gave in. How much you craved him like this.

The demon.

The man.

The everything.

Even when you were wrecked, he praised you. Worshipped the way your body trembled. The way your voice broke when you tried to speak and failed.

His clawed fingers traced the edge of her throat, slow and reverent.

“You begged for this,” he whispered, his voice a reverent snarl now. “Begged to see who I really am. And now look at you… letting a demon ruin you.”

His fangs grazed her neck, dragging over her skin in a slow tease before settling over her pulse point.

“I could bite you right here,” he murmured. “Mark you. Keep you.”

And she meweled, body arching beneath him.

Jinu groaned against her throat, his voice wrecked and hungry. “You love it, don’t you? Being ruined by me. Being my perfect little thing.”

And gods help him, he loved it too.

Not just the way her body surrendered.

But the way her mind unraveled.

All for him.

You whimper—helpless, needy, gone.

And he laughs.

“Fuck, you’re perfect,” he breathes, rutting harder into you just to feel the way your thighs twitch, “So obedient. So fucking good for me.”

He was two creatures in one.

The man who kissed your fingers and made you soup when you were sick.

And the demon who could fuck your thoughts clean and make you thank him for it.

And you?

You loved all of him.

Every beautiful, terrifying piece.

[callmenigma]

His

Just a little brainstorming before sleep.

Pairings: Jinu x Fem!Reader

Warning: Prey/Hunter dynamics, Obsession, NSFW

Part 2

*

It was your idea.

You’d said it with a half-smile and flushed cheeks, barely able to meet his eyes when you asked. “What would it feel like,” you murmured, “if you hunted me?”

Jinu had blinked, frozen for a beat. Then slowly, a grin crept onto his lips. Not the teasing kind. No, this one was darker. Thirstier. The kind that curled in the corners like smoke before fire.

“You want to be prey, sweetheart?” he’d asked, voice husky with disbelief—and something else. Something feral. “You want me to chase you?”

You had nodded.

And so you ran.

Night fell over Seoul like a silken veil, shadows pooling in alleyways and between streetlamps. The city had never felt so alive—so dangerous. You darted through the streets, breath catching with every step, the cold night air sharp in your lungs. Somewhere behind you, Jinu moved unseen.

Hunting.

He gave you a head start. Told you he’d wait until you were out of sight. But he’d warned you, right before you turned the corner:

"Once I start… I won’t stop until I have you."

And you’d trembled. Not from fear.

From want.

Now, your pulse raced in your throat as you ran through narrow streets, heart hammering like a war drum. You couldn’t hear him. Couldn’t see him. But you felt him.

Watching. Waiting. Closing in.

Then—

Arms.

From behind, strong and sudden, they wrapped around you like chains made of heat and silk. A gasp caught in your throat as your back hit his chest and his hand splayed across your stomach, pinning you in place like you belonged there—because you did.

“Got you,” Jinu growled against your ear, voice low, victorious, obsessed.

Your knees buckled at the sound, and he caught you easily, pulling your trembling form tighter against him, one arm banded across your waist, the other trailing slowly up to cradle your jaw.

He buried his face in your neck.

God.

The scent of you hit him like a punch to the gut.

Sweet. Wild. Terrified—but not from fear. It was the high of adrenaline, of surrender, of wanting to be caught.

He inhaled like it was oxygen, like it was the only thing keeping him from losing his mind completely.

“You smell like prey,” he whispered, voice wrecked with lust and something deeper—something reverent. “Soft little thing, running through the city like I wouldn’t find you.”

God, the feel of you—panting, warm, shaking in his arms—it sent a thrill down his spine that nearly made him dizzy. His heart pounded, but not from exertion. From the sheer, overwhelming satisfaction of having you right where he wanted you.

Where you belonged.

“Oh, sweet girl…” he breathed into your ear, voice husky with praise and something more dangerous. “You ran so well.”

You shivered, and he felt it. Every tremble rippling through your small frame. Your skin was warm and flushed, and he could practically drink the adrenaline humming through your veins.

Jinu buried his face into your neck from behind, groaning low at the scent of your skin. That prey-sweet smell—fear and want, heat and surrender.

It was intoxicating.

His nose dragged along the slope of your neck, slow and reverent. And then he found it—that same pulse point he knew too well. Rapid. Fragile. Fluttering like a bird’s wing under his lips.

He pressed his mouth to it. Just to feel. Just to taste.

And gods, it nearly broke him.

“You smell divine,” he growled, voice vibrating against your throat. “Like something meant to be chased. Meant to be caught.”

His canines grazed your pulse point.

Not a bite. Not yet. Just a tease.

But it was enough.

You bit your lower lip, hard—trying, failing, to suppress the soft moan threatening to spill. He felt it in the way your body pressed into his, the tension in your thighs, the way your hands curled around his forearms holding you in place.

“You’re doing so good for me,” he whispered, teeth dragging along your skin, deliberate and slow. “So obedient. So sweet.”

He was obsessed with you. Every breath, every reaction, every sound you made was his drug. Your trembling was his high.

You belonged to him—not metaphorically. Not romantically.

Utterly.

Spirit. Skin. Scent.

You were his prey, his possession, his perfect addiction.

And Jinu had never felt more alive than he did with you in his arms, shaking and silent, caught between danger and devotion.

And he had no intention of letting you go.

Jinu’s arm wrapped tightly around your waist, pulling your back flush against his chest as if he needed your body pressed to his to breathe. But it wasn’t enough—not when your pulse was still fluttering against his lips, not when your body still trembled in his grasp.

So he moved.

His hand slid up from your stomach to your chest, fingers splayed over your heart, possessive and firm. Then, slowly—so slowly—his other hand reached up, curling under your jaw. With effortless strength, he tilted your head back, exposing the delicate line of your throat to him like an offering on a pedestal.

“Good girl,” he murmured, his breath ghosting over your skin.

And then his lips descended.

Open-mouthed, starving, he kissed along your neck—each press slow, deep, worshipful. His tongue dragged across your skin like he needed to memorize your taste, his teeth grazing the soft spots just enough to make you gasp.

You moaned—quiet, involuntary—your hands flying to his forearm, the one that held your chest tightly against him. You grabbed it, needing something solid to ground yourself as your knees began to weaken beneath his mouth.

The hand on your jaw shifted, his thumb brushing your cheek, angling your head just right to give him more space—more you.

And you gave it.

Because there was no hiding anymore. No pretending you didn’t want this. No pretending he didn’t own every part of you in that moment.

“Jinu… please…” you whispered, breath trembling.

He froze for half a second.

Then smiled against your throat.

A slow, devilish grin.

“Please?” he echoed, voice thick with smug amusement, tongue teasing the word like it tasted better than blood. “Please what, little prey? You’ve gotta be more specific.”

He pressed a kiss right below your ear, hot and lingering. “Do you want me to stop?”

You whimpered—shook your head.

“Didn’t think so,” he whispered, his voice now a wicked purr. “You asked me to hunt you, remember? You said you wanted to feel it.”

He nipped at the edge of your collarbone, just enough to make your breath catch again.

“How’s it feel, mm?” he murmured. “To be caught by the very thing you should be running from?”

His hand on your chest moved, just slightly, stroking down your ribs. His body caged yours in, holding you completely, and still—you didn’t move.

You let him have you.

Because you had asked for this.

And Jinu was going to make sure you never forgot what it felt like to be hunted.

Wanted.

Claimed.

His.

Jinu held you like a secret, pressed between his body and the cool wall behind you, his mouth still trailing hot, slow kisses across your neck. You were trembling in his arms, your breath coming in stuttered gasps, your hands gripping the forearm wrapped tight across your chest.

But it was when his other hand moved—slowly, deliberately—that your whole body locked up.

Fingertips skimmed down your belly, feather-light, the silk of your blouse shifting beneath his palm. You shuddered, gasping softly as his hand traveled lower, teasing the waistband of your skirt. There was a pause—brief, torturous—and then—

He slipped beneath the fabric.

And the moment his fingers brushed over you, over the aching heat he’d drawn out of you with nothing but words and teeth and breath—

Jinu shivered.

A sharp inhale cut through his lips. His body tensed behind you, and he pressed his face deeper into your neck as if the sensation had nearly undone him.

“Fuck…” he whispered, voice wrecked and reverent. “You’re soaked.”

His grip tightened on your chest, pulling you closer, holding you in place as he groaned low against your skin.

“All this…” His voice turned teasing again, but it was laced with something darker. "All this just from being chased? From being caught?”

You whimpered.

He chuckled, slow and dangerous. “And here I thought I was the demon.”

You could feel him shudder against your back, like your scent alone was enough to shake him apart.

And then—his power began to bleed through.

Lilac-colored markings bloomed across his pale skin like ink beneath ice, rising over the backs of his hands, crawling up his arms like quiet fire. His breathing deepened, the control in him unraveling inch by inch. His amber eyes—already glowing—sharpened, blazed.

The pupils slitted fully now. Like a serpent’s. Like something no longer pretending to be human.

He buried his face into the curve of your neck again, inhaling deeply like your scent was air, like your trembling was fuel.

“You drive me fucking insane,” he murmured, his voice distorted slightly by the force behind it, by the beast inside him inching forward.

“You have no idea what it does to me—feeling you like this. Letting me have you. Just like this.”

He didn’t need to say more.

Because his body said it all.

He was feral for you.

And you’d offered yourself up like prey…

But now?

Now, you were his salvation and his ruin—wrapped in one perfect, trembling body against his.

*

[callmenigma]

Heaven in His Hell

Summary: In a world where darkness clings to fame and demons whisper through the cracks of sanity, Jinu—an idol haunted by an unseen voice—meets a mysterious girl who radiates impossible calm. Drawn to her like a man drowning to air, he doesn’t yet know she’s an angel in disguise… nor that their connection defies the rules of heaven and hell. As obsession brews and fate unravels, a forbidden love begins to take root—between the damned and the divine.

Pairings: Jinu x Fem!Reader

Genre/Warnings: fluff, slow burn, oblivious characters, light angst, hurt/comfort, pining, forbidden love, demon, angel

Part 1: A Silence That Shouldn’t Exist

The sun had long retreated, shadows bleeding across the cityscape, neon lights and dim street lamps mingling together to form pools of artificial twilight. Jinu’s footsteps echoed quietly along empty pavement, and in the hollow darkness surrounding him, the familiar whispers stirred—relentless, mocking, and strangely comforting. Gwi-ma’s voice was always there, whispering doubts and taunting him with cruel laughter, constant and cruel like the buzz of electricity.

“You’re so predictable, Jinu,” it hissed, low and amused. “Sneaking out alone, again. Who are you fooling? You’re desperate.”

He grit his teeth, fingers tightening into fists at his side, pressing nails into skin until pain sparked brighter than the voice’s taunts. He knew it was reckless to wander here—he wasn’t meant to be alone on these dark streets—but tonight his chest felt tighter, heavier than usual. Tonight, he sought distraction.

That voice was always there. Whispering, clawing, biting through the edges of Jinu’s thoughts like rust. He could be smiling at fans, laughing on variety shows, or lying on his back in bed, staring up at a ceiling he couldn’t recognize anymore, and still—always—the voice crept in.

But tonight, the voice was louder than usual. Worse.

He shouldn’t have left the dorm. He knew that. His manager’s voice was still fresh in his ear, warning him to lay low. "Too many fans hanging around. It's getting risky."

And yet, here he was. Hood pulled up. Hands in pockets. Wandering the edge of Myeongdong like a shadow looking for a body.

He hadn’t meant to be in this part of the city. It wasn’t on his schedule—not that he followed it anyway these days. The staff thought he was at a late shoot, the manager thought he was in his hotel, and the truth was… even Jinu didn’t know what he was doing here.

The streets were quieter here. Older. They belonged to a version of Seoul that most people forgot existed. A flickering neon sign buzzed above a closed tailor shop, and the sharp bite of early evening clung to his collarbones. He tugged his hoodie a little lower, head down.

That’s when he saw you.

Standing beneath the washed-out glow of a streetlamp, your figure felt oddly ethereal, bathed in pale light that outlined your form in delicate clarity. Even from a distance, Jinu felt an unfamiliar shiver curl through his bones, something cautious yet curious. He watched you tilt your head slightly upward, eyes tracing something unseen above, the quietest smile curling your lips.

Something about you was… off. He couldn’t pinpoint exactly what or why, but he was certain he’d never seen someone who radiated such peculiar calmness. Normal people had edges, imperfections, visible cracks—yet your outline felt blurred, softened. Your presence felt like a misplaced melody hummed softly beneath the noise, one he recognized somehow but couldn’t place from where.

Before he realized what he was doing, Jinu began to follow. The whispers in his head grew louder, accusing him:

"Look at you, drawn like a pathetic moth. You chase after shadows now?"

He ignored it. His heart quickened with each step, yet his feet moved on their own, guided by something deeper than mere curiosity.

Pathetic, Gwi-ma mocked again, Following after a girl you don't even know, desperately hoping she’ll save you from me?

"Shut up," Jinu muttered under his breath, hands curling into fists at his sides.

You moved gracefully, steps feather-light against concrete. Each moment he spent watching you only sharpened the unfamiliar ache in his chest. And when you paused at an intersection, your gaze slowly shifted, almost as if you sensed him, your head turned slightly.

Time slowed down as your eyes met his.

It happened in the blink of an eye, a fleeting heartbeat, but in that moment—there was silence.

Utter, pristine silence.

Gwi-ma’s mocking voice faded into nothingness. All the unbearable noise inside Jinu's mind dissipated, leaving him raw and vulnerable. He sucked in a sharp breath, the city's ambient noise clear and oddly comforting for once—car horns, footsteps, the gentle murmur of people nearby. He could hear his own breath trembling in disbelief.

He stared, unable to tear his eyes away. In the depth of your gaze, he saw something indefinable—a softness, a glow that no one else in this noisy, chaotic world possessed. Familiarity tugged at his heart, aching faintly. But it was distant, hidden behind veils of forgotten memories, unreachable.

“Who are you?” he murmured helplessly.

Before he could think clearly, your gaze broke away. The city blurred back to its chaotic noise again, violently wrenching Jinu back into reality.

Gwi-ma returned at full force, louder, crueler than before.

Ah, look at that desperation. It mocked, laughing cruelly in his head, making Jinu’s temples pulse with unbearable pain. How sad, Jinu—so desperate to grasp at silence that you'd chase after an illusion.

He winced, gritting his teeth against the agony that filled him. But despite the torment, he moved forward again, recklessly, desperately trying to follow after you.

Yet the crowd thickened suddenly, swallowing your figure effortlessly into a sea of anonymity. Panic rose sharply in Jinu’s chest as he searched frantically, eyes darting from face to face.

Gone.

She’s gone. Gwi-ma’s tone was disgustingly satisfied, dripping mockery. Now what will you do, pathetic little fool? Chase phantoms in the dark?

He stopped abruptly, head throbbing in agony, chest tight. Without the clarity of your presence, everything was louder, sharper, more painful. It felt as if every single noise pierced right through his skull.

But amidst the crippling headache and vicious mockery, one single truth became frighteningly clear:

He had to find you again.

Because, for once in his miserable existence, Jinu had finally felt silence—pure, gentle silence.

And now, even if it destroyed him, he was desperate to feel it again.

The hours slipped through Jinu’s fingers like smoke.

He wandered the streets long after the last shops had pulled down their rusted gates and the crowd had thinned to late-night stragglers and cigarette-lit ghosts. His hood was still pulled low, hands shoved deep into his pockets, but his pace had slowed from something desperate to something… numb.

He’d retraced every step. Twice. Three times. He’d turned down side alleys and empty stairwells, scanning rooftops and bus stops as if maybe—just maybe—you had lingered somewhere, waiting. But there was no sign of you.

No glow under another streetlamp. No humming silence. Nothing.

You were gone.

The ache in his chest had settled like a weight behind his ribs, dull and heavy, a reminder of something real—or not. A hallucination, maybe. A trick of the light. A lonely mind grasping for a miracle.

Gwi-ma was merciless.

Hours? You wandered for hours? Hah! That wasn’t silence, boy. That was madness. You're cracked open and bleeding, and you think salvation's gonna walk up to you wearing a pretty face?

Jinu didn’t answer. Not this time.

He’d let the voice rant. Let it claw and howl and jab at every raw spot it knew. But something in him had changed. Not enough to fix anything. But enough to resist.

It took effort—more than he’d admit—to lock the voice out. Like forcing a window shut during a typhoon. But he did it. Slowly. Deliberately. He pictured a heavy door inside his mind, thick and cold and bolted from the inside. And for now, Gwi-ma would stay on the other side.

The silence that followed wasn’t peaceful. It hurt. But it was his.

When he finally stumbled back into the dorm building, it was nearing 3 A.M. His feet dragged. His shoulders sagged. And his hoodie was soaked through with sweat and city fog.

The lobby lights buzzed dimly overhead. The familiar scent of sterilized floors and takeout containers filled the stale air. He was just reaching for the elevator button when a sharp voice cut through the haze.

"Jinu?"

He froze.

Their manager stood at the base of the stairwell, arms crossed, wearing a hoodie over his pajamas and dark circles under his eyes. He looked more confused than angry, which somehow made it worse.

“Where the hell were you?” the manager asked, walking forward slowly. “You didn’t answer your phone. You weren’t on set. You weren’t in the hotel. You just—what, vanished?”

Jinu opened his mouth. Closed it. The truth bubbled in his throat like a bruise.

I was chasing silence, he almost said. I saw an angel under a streetlamp and now my head won’t stop screaming.

But all that came out was, “I just needed air.”

The manager stared at him for a long beat, expression unreadable. “Air,” he echoed flatly.

Jinu nodded, not trusting himself to speak again.

With a sigh, the manager rubbed a hand over his face. “You scared the shit out of the staff, you know that? Next time you pull something like this, I swear—”

“I won’t,” Jinu interrupted quietly.

A lie. Or maybe not. He didn’t know yet.

There was silence again, but not the kind he wanted. This one was awkward, stretched thin by exhaustion and unspoken things. The manager finally stepped back, rubbing at his temple.

“Go to sleep. We’ve got rehearsal tomorrow.”

Jinu nodded again and stepped into the elevator. The doors slid shut with a mechanical groan, boxing him in.

He leaned back against the wall, eyes closing as the hum of the machinery carried him upward.

He’d wandered the city for hours, searching for a stranger whose name he didn’t know. Maybe you hadn’t been real. Maybe his tired brain had finally snapped. Maybe Gwi-ma was right.

But still— He had felt something.