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mononijikayu · 17 days

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the other woman — ryomen sukuna.

“Do not mistake this for affection.” he warned, his voice low and rough. “I am still who I am. I am still the monster you should fear.” But you could only nod, your heart aching with a mixture of sorrow and hope. “I know,” you whispered. “I know, but I’m still here.” And for the first time, you thought you saw a hint of softness in his eyes, a flicker of something that could almost be… understanding. Maybe, just maybe, you were starting to reach him, one fragile step at a time.

GENRE: alternate universe - heian era;

WARNING/S: nsfw, angst, one sided romance, conflicted feelings, hurt/no comfort, unhappy marriage, hurt, physical touch, character death, mourning, loneliness, pain, grief, unhappy ending, depiction of one-sided relationship, depiction of grief, depiction of complicated relationship, depiction of illness, depiction of canon related violence, depiction of loneliness, mention of grief, mention of illness, mention of loneliness, heian! sukuna, long suffering concubine! reader;

WORD COUNT: 11k words

NOTE: this was always going to be long, because it's heartbreaking. and heartbreaking ones have to be something that has to be expressed well. i listened to this in a audio software like its a podcast and i actually liked it. the other woman by nina simone was the constant in the writing. also, this is the aftermath of ashes of love, which is a series i did about heian sukuna. anyway, i hope you enjoy this!!! i love you all <3

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YOU KNEW THAT YOU WERE THIS UNLUCKY. The moment you were born, there would be a bleak fate for you to live. You were an accidental child, and multiple times, your own mother had nearly miscarried. Perhaps even as a fetus, you had always known this. How cursed you were. Even if you had done nothing.

When your mother brushed your hair as a child, she would tell you of how you were born. She said that when you breathed the air for the first time, you were melancholic in the silence to the world. Somehow knew that you were built for this miserable world. And every day since that day, you knew. You were meant to live life without true joyous jubilation.

It did not help that the day you were born, there was a lone dark star in the morning sky, one which had been considered a bad omen. And with that, the whispers of fate echoing long before you had even had consciousness to know. Your village nestled in the shadowed valleys of Hida province, a place of whispered dread and ancient pacts. And for the longest of times, the once prosperous Hida province was in turmoil.

And so, in those days, if there was anyone who controlled the ruins of Hida, it was that god-like curse user Ryomen Sukuna. His name alone was a talisman against the unknown horrors that lurked beyond the mountains, a deity whose power and wrath commanded fear and reverence in equal measure. And all either quivered at the sight of him or drew fanatic fervor.

The Ryomen clan, his kin at one point, were at war—embroiled in brutal conflicts with neighboring clans for so long. And this had been going on before you were even born. The blood had soaked the earth for so long that the soil seemed to thirst for it. And the people were exhausted.

The clan struggled to maintain control over Hida for a long time now, their influence fraying like an old tapestry torn at the seams. And with that, a power vacuum had long been in existence. The chaos of the era was a tide that threatened to drown them all, and Ryomen Sukuna's protection became the last fragile hope for those who called this land their home.

Your parents spoke in hushed voices of the offerings, the sacrifices made by the villagers to appease their god, the man who can save them, this man to fear and worship, Ryomen Sukuna. To ensure his protection, they said. For years, the sacrifices continued, the chosen ones becoming mere footnotes in a history written in blood and fear.

It came upon you rather quickly when you were young and it struck you—that the villagers saw you not as one of their own, but as a piece on a board, a pawn destined for slaughter. A sacrifice to their god. You would be among the countless, one more life to be cast into the jaws of the demon god they all feared.

The day of your sacrifice came as the sky was painted with hues of blood and gold, a cruel irony that did not escape you. The air was heavy with incense and prayer, but there was no comfort in their muttered words, no solace in the chants that pleaded for Sukuna's mercy. They adorned you in ceremonial robes, marked with symbols and sigils, your skin painted with the sacred ink that was supposed to cleanse your soul before the offering.

You were led through the village, a procession of death that seemed to stretch on forever. The eyes that watched you pass were filled with a mixture of pity and relief—relief that it was not them, not their child, not their blood that would be spilled today. Mothers held their children close, men bowed their heads, and the elders chanted in a low, continuous hum that sent shivers down your spine.

At the shrine, they bound you to the altar, thick ropes biting into your skin as you stared at the sky, searching for a sign, a miracle that never came. The high priest began his incantation, his voice rising above the murmur of the crowd. You could feel the cold seep into your bones, the air around you thickening as if the very world held its breath.

And then, you felt it—the shift in the air, the heavy presence that pressed against your chest like a vice. You had never seen him before, but you knew it was Sukuna. The villagers gasped, a collective intake of breath as his form materialized from the shadows, a figure cloaked in malice and power.

His eyes, crimson and unforgiving, swept over you like a cold blade. You felt your heart hammer against your ribcage, fear clawing at your throat. You were nothing to him, just another offering, another desperate plea from a village clinging to survival.

Ryomen Sukuna smiled, a slow, cruel smile that sent a tremor through the crowd. He stepped forward, each movement a ripple in the air, as if reality itself bent to his will. You met his gaze, defiant in your fear, knowing that you were one of many. Countless lives had been given to him, countless souls lost to his hunger.

And now, it was your turn.

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YOU HAD NEVER EXPECTED TO MEET THE MAN IN THE FLESH. But before you stood this man, this god, with dark crimson eyes. Taller than any tree, intimidating than any curse. Frightening than hell itself. You could remember when you were younger. The whispers reached you before you even stepped foot in the shrine, everyone has. Tales of Ryomen Sukuna had traveled through the villages like the wind, carrying with them rumors that were both terrifying and tragic.

You had always known that the man was delighted with the worship of the human people. But they said he had taken no other concubines, that he showed no interest in any woman who dared come near him.

And if he did, they were more likely to be servants than anything close to a concubine. And some were not so lucky. Some spoke in hushed tones, their voices trembling with fear, that he was a monster of unspeakable debauchery, one who had killed the women for even daring to breathe in his presence.

But the truth, as you had come to understand it, was far more tragic. At least from how you see it. The people of Hida knew—oh, they believed—the story was told long ago. There was someone who had been so loved long ago and most of all, by Sukuna.

Ryomen Hiromi, the one who had captured Sukuna's heart, the one he had loved beyond reason. There was another Sukuna a long time ago, many were aware. But there was nothing proven.

If anything, the children of Hiromi reject any notion of such a relationship. But the tale was woven into the very fabric of tales told, whispered among the elders late at night and shared in riddles among the children who barely understood the weight of what they spoke.

Hiromi, they said, had been his sun, his moon, his stars. A woman of beauty and strength, whose laughter could calm the wildest storms and whose voice was like the sweetest song. She had been the only one to ever touch his heart, to see the man beneath the demon god. But she was gone now, lost to time and tragedy, leaving Ryomen Sukuna to languish in his grief.

No one dared speak her name aloud, not when Sukuna’s rage could split the earth itself. People have seen it. It was said he mourned her loss every day, that his fury was born from the emptiness she left behind. And that was why he would not tolerate any other woman. No one was going to be like her. None would match her wit, her beauty. Why should the king of curses settle for less when he had the world?

As you lay on the cold altar, the ropes cutting into your skin, your thoughts were consumed by the stories. What kind of man—no, what kind of creature—was Sukuna? You wonder about this paradox of a man, this creature like god.

Did he truly mourn, or was that just another tale spun by terrified villagers to make him seem more human? What was he, actually? You had a million questions, and you know they will never truly be answered.

A gust of wind stirred the trees around you, the leaves rustling like whispered secrets. You heard the shuffle of feet, felt the eyes of the villagers upon you, their fear palpable. Then, you heard his voice. You could feel it all, that powerful cursed energy, coming from one direction. For a moment, you had no words. Only uncertainty.

"Why do they send another?" Sukuna's voice was like a low growl, rumbling through the air with the force of a storm. "Do you think I am so easily appeased, you fools?"

You dared to lift your head, the ropes pulling at your skin as you met his crimson gaze. He was tall, imposing, and every bit as terrifying as the stories had painted him. But there was something else there—something in his eyes that spoke of deep, simmering pain.

"Do you truly want to know why they sent me?" you found yourself saying, your voice steady despite the fear clawing at your throat.

His eyes narrowed, and for a moment, you thought he might strike you down then and there. But he didn’t. Instead, he tilted his head, a cruel smile playing at the corners of his lips.

"Speak, then, girl." he said. "Tell me why I should not turn you to dust where you lie."

You swallowed, gathering your courage. "They send me because they fear you, because they believe you will protect them if they give you what you want. But… no one knows what you truly want, do they? No one speaks of her. Of Hiromi."

His expression shifted, a shadow passing over his face, and you knew you had struck a nerve. The air grew colder, a chill that seemed to seep into your very bones.

"Hiromi is dead." he said, his voice quiet but filled with an edge that could cut through steel. "And no one speaks her name. It is what I command.”

"But you still mourn her…." you continued, unable to stop yourself. "Do you not, my lord?”

His dark gaze bore into you, the weight of it almost unbearable. For a long moment, he said nothing, and the silence stretched on like an eternity. Then, slowly, he laughed—a sound that was bitter and hollow.

"You dare ask?" he repeated, as if the word was foreign to him. "What do you know of it all, little one? What do you know about such a life lived?"

You felt a tremor run through you, but you did not look away. "I know enough, my lord." you replied softly. "I know enough to see that your anger is not born of hatred, but of grief."

Sukuna's cruel smile quickly faded, and for a brief moment, you thought you saw something in his eyes—a flicker of vulnerability, quickly swallowed by the darkness. He hated how you said it, you know it too well. But there was no other choice. You were here for a purpose and you must fulfill it. You must.

"You are bold, little one." he murmured. "Bold….for someone so close to death."

"Perhaps, my lord." you whispered back to him. "But if I am to die, I would rather die knowing who you truly are, rather than the monster they say you are."

He stared at you for a long time, his expression unreadable. Then, he stepped closer, so close that you could feel the heat radiating from his body, the power that thrummed through him like a thunder strike.

"Then you are a fool, little one." he said quietly. "For believing that I am anything more than a monster."

But there was something in his voice, something that made you wonder if perhaps… he wished you were right.

For the meantime, you were lucky to have your life, despite speaking so boldly, despite saying her name aloud—the name that everyone else dared not utter. Sukuna’s silence stretched on, his crimson eyes still locked onto yours, unreadable, cold yet burning with something darker beneath the surface. He could have ended you with a flick of his wrist, reduced you to ashes for your insolence. And yet, he did not.

He leaned closer, the edges of his form blurring into the shadows that seemed to ripple around him like stabbing waves in the ocean. His breath was hot against your skin, his presence overwhelming, suffocating. You felt your heart pound in your chest, each beat a drum that signaled your fragile hold on life.

“Perhaps you are simply foolish. Many have died for far less than what you dared to speak.” Sukuna finally said, his voice low, almost contemplative. “Huh, you speak brashly.”

The villagers around you seemed to hold their breath, waiting for his judgment. They looked at you with a mixture of horror and awe, unable to believe you were still alive after uttering the forbidden name. You, a mere sacrifice, a lamb thrown to the wolf, had survived what so many others had not.

“Why do you think I will let you live?” Sukuna’s voice cut through the tense silence, his tone curious, but with a dangerous edge. “Do you think I find you interesting? Amusing? Or perhaps I see something of her in you, something worth sparing?”

You swallowed hard, the reality of your situation settling in. You had survived speaking out of turn, but you were still bound to this altar, still at the mercy of a being who could destroy you on a whim. Yet, something in his words gave you pause, a flicker of something unspoken that lingered just beneath his surface.

“I do not presume to know your reasons, my lord.” you replied carefully, choosing each word like a step on thin ice. “But if you see something of her in me… then perhaps I am not so different from you after all.”

Sukuna’s gaze sharpened, his eyes narrowing. “Not so different?” He laughed, a sound that was both mirthful and bitter, filled with a deep, aching emptiness. “You compare yourself to me? To Ryomen Sukuna? You are a child, a mere mortal who knows nothing of gods or demons, of love that scorches the soul and burns the world to ash.”

“And yet…..” you dared to continue, feeling the tightness in your chest. “If my lord felt nothing, you wouldn’t care enough to be angry… or to remember.”

He stiffened, and for a moment, his expression faltered. The shadows seemed to deepen around him, his aura flickering like a candle flame caught in a strong wind. You sensed that you were dancing on a razor’s edge, but you could not stop now. There was something here, something raw and real beneath the monstrous exterior.

“Enough.” Sukuna hissed, his voice a sharp command. The air grew colder, and you felt a shiver run down your spine. “You dare much, human. Too much.”

You pressed your lips together, bracing yourself for the inevitable blow, the moment when his patience would finally snap. But instead, Sukuna’s lips curled into a faint smile, one that did not reach his eyes.

“Perhaps I will spare you.” he murmured, almost as if speaking to himself. “If only to see how long that fire burns before it is extinguished. Or perhaps to see if you will end up like the rest—broken, hollow, pleading for mercy where there is none.”

He turned away from you then, his back a wall of power and darkness, his form towering against the dim light of the shrine. The villagers started, stunned, as if waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“You will reside in my temple.” Sukuna commanded, his tone leaving no room for argument. “You will remain there, under my watch. Let them see what comes of those who speak of things best left forgotten.”

A murmur rippled through the crowd, a mixture of fear and shock. They did not understand why he had spared you, why you, of all people, were allowed to live. Perhaps they thought you were cursed, or perhaps they thought Sukuna had some darker plan in mind. But you knew better. You knew that, in some small way, you had touched on a wound that had never healed, a scar buried deep beneath his monstrous exterior.

And as Sukuna vanished into the shadows, you realized that your fate was no longer in the hands of the villagers, or even in the hands of the gods they prayed to. No, your fate was now bound to his—a god who mourned like a man, a monster who remembered what it was to love.

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IN A WAY, IT IS NOT SO BAD, BEING HIS CONCUBINE. You spent your days in isolation, your life confined within the walls of Sukuna's palace. You were nothing more than a servant, though they called you a concubine. The title meant little, for you were given no special privileges, no adornments, no tokens of affection.

But it was a life. Your life. And it lived in some comfort, more than what is experienced by the rest of Hida province. You had multiple meals a day, you had rooms to yourself and even servants that address every bit of your needs.

Still, your world was small, your days filled with the quiet tending of the gardens, watching the shifting sky as the hours bled into one another. The flowers you nurtured became your only friends, their petals a fragile comfort against the cold indifference that surrounded you.

Perhaps the peace came from the fact that you did not see Sukuna often, and when you did, his gaze never lingered on you for long. He had no interest, no affection, no fondness to spare. You were simply there, like a shadow in the corner of his realm.

A figure lost amidst the vast emptiness of his domain. And perhaps that was for the best. It was better than being forced into Sukuna’s bed. You think that all women in the harem think that it was better that way.

But slowly, ever so slowly, something changed. His dark scarlet eyes began to linger, just a fraction longer than before. You felt the weight of his gaze like a chill running down your spine.

The other servants noticed it too, their whispers growing louder, bolder. You finally caught his attention. But it wasn’t because he had come to care for you, to see you as anything more than the nothing you were.

No, the truth was much crueler than that.

You were a spitting image of Ryomen Hiromi, the woman who haunted his every step, the ghost who lived in the shadows of his mind. At least that’s what the people say. But you did not want to believe them. Yet, looking at the murals at the glass gardens, the resemblance was uncanny.

It was obvious somehow. It was similar, everything. Your eyes, your hair, the curve of your smile. Every feature, every gesture seemed to remind him of her. And though you knew you could never be her, you had become a cruel echo, a reflection of something he had long lost.

And soon enough, the people talked. Of course, they did. They always talked. You tried to shut them out, but the more they whispered, the more people listened. And the more they listened, the more people spoke.

“She reminds him of Hiromi, I am certain!” they whispered. “She is nothing but a shadow, a poor replacement for the one he truly loved. She lives in her image, as if she could ever hope to fill her place.”

You became the other woman, even when you didn’t want to be. No, not even that. You were a pale imitation, a mockery of a woman who had captured the heart of the king of curses. Every glance Ryomen Sukuna spared you was not a look of admiration or desire—it was the gaze of a man staring into the past, into a memory that was forever out of reach.

And so, you lived your life as another woman. No, the other woman. To a dead woman. To a love that had died long ago, but never truly left.

Sometimes, in the dead of night, when the silence was so thick it pressed against your skin like a heavy shroud, you would wonder about her. About Ryomen Hiromi. Who was she, really? What had she meant to him, this fearsome god, this creature of darkness who now watched you as if searching for something he had lost in her eyes, now reflected in yours.

He never spoke of her. He does not want to. He does not dare to. Not to you, not to anyone. Some servants have been here longer than you and they have seen people killed over even a mumble of a prayer for the lady. And so you don’t ask.

Not even when there were times he would come closer, when his dark eyes lingered on your face, searching, always searching. Yet he will never truly find it. He knew this, as much as you did. But it was as if he was trying to see her again, trying to find her in your skin, in your voice, in the way you moved through the gardens like she once had, perhaps. It was hope, a foolish hope. And yet you cannot escape this foolish hope.

The weight of her memory suffocated you. You were not allowed to be yourself, to have your own name, your own identity. You were always, always compared to her, measured against a ghost that you could never be, never touch. And Sukuna, with his cold gaze and his empty eyes, reminded you of it every day.

"You’re not her, little one." he said once, his voice low, more to himself than to you, as if testing a truth he could not fully accept. “You’ll never be her.”

His words cut deeper than any blade, leaving you with the bitter taste of something unnameable, something that tasted like defeat, or perhaps longing, or perhaps both. You had never wished to be her, to be anyone but yourself. But here, in his domain, under his shadow, you were not allowed that freedom.

You were trapped, forever bound to a life that was not your own, in the shadow of a dead woman who would never release you, and a man who could never let her go.

Days bled into nights, a blur of routine and solitude, and you began to feel like a ghost yourself, haunting the corners of Sukuna's palace, where life seemed to move around you but never through you. The servants kept their distance, wary of your resemblance, as if fearing you might be some ill omen, cursed to echo the tragedy of the past.

And Sukuna… he watched you, always watching, his eyes a deep crimson that saw too much and yet revealed nothing. He was like a storm contained within the fragile walls of the palace, his presence a force of nature that you could neither escape nor fully comprehend. His mood was mercurial; one day, he would barely acknowledge you, and the next, his gaze would linger on you, heavy with something you couldn’t name.

“Do you enjoy the garden?” he asked one afternoon, his tone deceptively casual, as if he were simply inquiring about the weather.

You glanced up, surprised that he had addressed you at all. He rarely spoke directly to you, even when his eyes seemed to follow your every movement. “I do,” you replied, careful, measured. “It is quiet there. Peaceful.”

“Quiet…peaceful.” he repeated, almost as if tasting the word. A faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips, but it did not reach his eyes. “Yes, she liked the quiet too. Always wandering among the flowers. Trees too. She’d like that then.”

You stiffened at the mention of her, the ghost you lived with every day, who lingered in every corner of this place. “I am not her, my lord.” you said, a tremor in your voice. You had repeated these words to yourself countless times, but they sounded fragile, almost insignificant when spoken aloud.

Sukuna's expression did not change. If anything, his gaze grew sharper, like a blade pressed against your skin. “No, little one.” he agreed softly, almost mockingly, “You are not her. But you will do… for now.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, refusing to let him see the fear that coiled within you, like a snake waiting to strike. “Why do you keep me here?” you dared to ask, your voice barely more than a whisper. “Why do you watch me as if you expect me to become someone else?”

He laughed then, a low, rumbling sound that sent a shiver down your spine. “You misunderstand, little one. I do not expect you to become her. I know you never can. But you… remind me of her. And that is enough… for now.”

The way he said it, the way his eyes darkened with something unreadable, made your blood run cold. You were nothing more than a stand-in, a living, breathing reminder of something he had lost. A cruel joke played by fate, a shadow dancing in the place of the one who truly mattered. To be kept alive, your village kept alive — because you look like a ghost.

“I am not a replacement, my lord.” you insisted, your voice firmer this time, surprising even yourself with the strength behind it. “I hope my lord knows that I will not live my life as a mere echo.”

His smile faded, his expression turning serious. “You think you have a choice?” he asked, leaning in closer, his face so near to yours that you could feel the warmth of his breath. “You are here because I allow it. You exist at my whim, not because of who you are, but because of who you resemble. Do not mistake this for anything more than it is.”

The reality of his words hit you like a blow, the finality of it sinking deep into your bones. You were nothing to him, nothing but a passing fancy, a painful reminder of a past he could not reclaim.

“I am not her, my lord.” you repeated, your voice shaking with defiance, with a spark of something that refused to be extinguished. “And I will not be her for you. You must understand.”

For a moment, something flickered in Sukuna's eyes, something almost like surprise, perhaps even respect. Then, just as quickly, it was gone, replaced by the cold, unfeeling mask he always wore.

“Brave words, little one.” he murmured, his voice low and dangerous. “But words mean little here, in my domain. You will learn that soon enough.”

He turned away from you then, leaving you standing alone in the empty hall, your heart pounding in your chest, your hands trembling at your sides. The silence closed in around you, heavy and oppressive, and you knew that nothing had changed. You were still trapped, still living in the shadow of a dead woman, still bound to the whims of a god who mourned like a man.

And yet, deep inside, something stirred—a flicker of defiance, of hope. You might be a ghost to him, a reflection of a lost love, but you were still alive. You were still you, and as long as you drew breath, you would not allow yourself to be consumed by his shadows. Not without a fight.

Time passed slowly in Sukuna’s palace, and with it, your heart began to change. You did not notice it at first; how could you? Day after day, the monotonous routine of your existence lulled you into a sort of numbness. The gardens became your refuge, the sky your solace.

Yet even as you tried to find comfort in these simple pleasures, you found your thoughts wandering back to him—Ryomen Sukuna, the fearsome god, the monster, the man who mourned like a human.

At first, you hated him, hated him for what he represented, for what he had made you into: a replacement, a mere shadow of someone who had meant everything to him. But as you watched him, as the days turned to weeks and weeks to months, you began to see more.

You began to notice the things others did not—the subtle tension in his jaw when he was angry, the way his eyes softened just a fraction when he spoke of her, the quiet moments when he thought no one was looking, and the mask slipped, just a little.

You were in the garden one afternoon, trimming the roses, when you heard footsteps approaching. Sukuna rarely came to the garden, but today he seemed restless, pacing along the paths with a dark expression on his face. He stopped by the old cherry blossom tree, his eyes distant, his hands clenched into fists at his sides.

Without thinking, you moved closer. "Is something troubling you, my lord?" you asked quietly, keeping your tone as neutral as possible. You had learned not to provoke him, to keep your words soft and your gaze steady.

Sukuna looked at you sharply, as if surprised you had dared to speak. "Why do you care?" he snapped, his tone harsh, but you had seen the flicker of something else—a fleeting vulnerability, perhaps? “Such matters are none for you to care about, little one.”

You hesitated, choosing your words carefully. “I see you every day, my lord.” you replied softly. “I see how you… struggle over something. And I cannot help but… care.”

He scoffed, but it was a hollow sound. “Care?” he echoed, almost mockingly. “You think you understand me, mortal? You think you can comprehend the depths of what I am, of what I have lost?”

You bowed your head, feeling the sting of his words but refusing to back down. “I don’t pretend to understand, my lord.” you murmured. “But I see the pain in your eyes, the way you linger in places she once loved, the way you… look at me.”

He was silent for a moment, his gaze unreadable. Then he turned away, his shoulders tense, his hands unclenching. “You are a fool, little one.” he muttered, almost too softly for you to hear. “A fool to think you can feel anything for me.”

And maybe you were a fool. A fool to care for a man who did not care for you, who saw you only as a shadow of someone else. But you could not help it. You could not stop the way your heart ached when you saw him, the way your breath caught when he looked at you with those sad, tired eyes.

Day by day, you found yourself drawn to him, not by his power or his beauty, but by the quiet moments when he thought no one was watching. The moments when his face softened, and you saw the man beneath the monster, the man who had loved so deeply and lost so terribly.

You saw the cracks in his armor, the places where he had been wounded, and you wanted, desperately, to reach out and touch them, to soothe the pain you knew he carried.

You found yourself thinking of him when you were alone, wondering what had made him this way, what had broken him so completely. You imagined him before all of this, before the darkness, before the loss, and you felt a strange, deep sorrow for the man he might have been.

One evening, as you were leaving the garden, you saw him standing by the cherry blossom tree again, his face turned upward, staring at the pale blooms against the darkening sky. He looked so lonely, so unbearably alone, that you felt your heart tighten in your chest.

Without thinking, you approached him, moving slowly, cautiously, as if approaching a wounded animal. “My lord, look.” you said softly, and he did not turn away. “The blossoms… they’re beautiful this year.”

He glanced at you, his expression unreadable. “Hiromi loved them.” he said quietly, his voice thick with something you could not quite name. “Fond of them.”

You nodded, your heart aching for him. “I imagine she did, my lord.” you replied. “They’re… peaceful.”

He was silent for a long time, his gaze fixed on the flowers. Then he spoke, his voice barely more than a whisper. “She was… my peace.” he admitted, his tone so raw, so vulnerable, that it made your chest tighten painfully. “And now… there is only emptiness.”

You wanted to reach out to him, to touch his hand, to tell him that he was not as alone as he thought, but you knew he would not accept it. So you stood there, beside him, sharing the silence, hoping that maybe, in some small way, your presence could ease the ache in his heart.

And slowly, painfully, you realized that you were falling into the saddest position in the world. You were beginning to care for him, truly care for him, despite knowing that he did not, and could not, care for you. You were beginning to understand him, to see the depths of his sorrow, to feel the weight of his loss as if it were your own.

You were living as a shadow, and yet… you found yourself wishing, hoping, that someday he might see you as something more. Even if you were just a reflection of a memory, even if you could never be her, you wished, desperately, that you could become someone to him.

But as you looked at him, at the emptiness in his eyes, you knew that day might never come. And still, you could not help but care.

Days continued to slip by in a blur of silent moments and stolen glances, and though you tried to keep your heart guarded, you felt it slipping further and further away from you, like water through your fingers. You had resigned yourself to your fate—a concubine in name, a ghost in truth. You had accepted that Sukuna would never see you as anything more than a mere echo of what he had lost.

But as time passed, you noticed a subtle change in him. It was in the way his gaze lingered on you a moment longer, or how his tone softened when he spoke to you. It was in the quiet moments when you would catch him watching you, his expression inscrutable, as if he were trying to decipher some mystery he could not quite solve.

As the sun dipped below the horizon and painted the sky in shades of crimson and gold, you found yourself in the garden again. Sukuna was there, seated on a low stone bench beneath the cherry blossom tree, his face turned upward as if searching for something in the dying light.

You approached cautiously, unsure if he wanted your presence or not. He did not turn to look at you, but he did not send you away, either. You took it as a small mercy, a silent invitation to sit beside him.

For a long time, neither of you spoke. The silence stretched between you like a fragile thread, delicate and unbroken. Finally, Sukuna spoke, his voice low and contemplative. “You are always here, little one.” he murmured. “Always watching. Why?”

You hesitated, searching for the right words. “Because I see you, my lord.” you replied quietly. “I see the way you carry your pain, the way you hide it behind your eyes. I… I understand it, in a way.”

He turned to you then, his gaze piercing, searching your face as if trying to find the truth hidden within your words. “And what do you think you understand?” he asked, a note of challenge in his tone.

You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of his stare. “I think you loved her more than life itself, my lord.” you said softly. “And I think losing her broke something inside of you that will never heal.”

He was silent for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then he laughed—a harsh, bitter sound that cut through the stillness like a knife. “You presume to know my heart, mortal.” he said, but there was no true malice in his voice, only a deep, hollow emptiness. “You think because you look like her, you can speak of love and loss?”

“I do not pretend to be her, my lord.” you answered, your voice steady, even as your heart pounded in your chest. “But I know what it is to lose, to live with emptiness. I know what it means to be alone, even in a crowded room.”

His eyes softened, just for a moment, and you could almost see the man beneath the monster, the one who had loved and lost, who had once been capable of kindness, of tenderness.

“You think you know loneliness?” he asked, his voice quiet, almost vulnerable. “You think you know what it is to love someone so deeply that their absence is like a knife in your soul, cutting you with every breath?”

“I think I’m starting to understand, my lord.” you whispered. “More than I ever wanted to.”

He looked away, his jaw clenched tight, and you could see the tension in his shoulders, the way his hands curled into fists at his sides. “You are a fool.” he muttered, but there was no heat in his words, only a weary resignation. “You should hate me. You should despise me for what I am, for what I have made you.”

You shook your head slowly. “I can’t, my lord.” you admitted, your voice breaking. “I don’t know why, but I can’t. Maybe it’s because I see the pain in your eyes, the way you look at me… the way you remember her. I can’t hate you for that. I just… I wish things were different.”

He turned to you sharply, and for a moment, there was something raw and desperate in his gaze, something that spoke of a longing he had buried deep within himself. “Different?” he repeated, almost scoffing. “There is no ‘different’ for us. This is the world we have been given, and we must live in it.”

You felt your heart clench painfully, knowing he was right, knowing that no matter how much you wished for it, you could never truly reach him, could never become more than what you were—a shadow, a reflection of a woman long gone.

But you could not stop yourself from caring, from hoping that somehow, someway, he might see you, truly see you, not as a ghost or a replacement, but as a person in your own right.

You sighed, turning your gaze to the blossoms above. “I know, my lord.” you murmured. “I know that better than anyone. But I still… I still want to understand you. I still care, even if you don’t care for me.”

He was silent, his expression unreadable, and for a moment, you feared you had said too much, crossed a line you could never return from. But then, slowly, he reached out and took your hand in his, his grip firm but surprisingly gentle.

“You are a strange one, little one.” he said quietly, almost as if to himself. “To care for a monster… to care for a man who has nothing left to give.”

You felt a tear slip down your cheek, and you did not bother to hide it. “Maybe I’m just a fool, my lord” you whispered. “But I can’t help it. I can’t help but care for you, even when I know you can’t care for me.”

He stared at you for a long moment, his eyes searching yours, as if looking for some answer he could not find. Then, without a word, he pulled you closer, his lips brushing against your forehead in a gesture so tender it took your breath away.

“Do not mistake this for affection.” he warned, his voice low and rough. “I am still who I am. I am still the monster you should fear.”

But you could only nod, your heart aching with a mixture of sorrow and hope. “I know,” you whispered. “I know, but I’m still here.”

And for the first time, you thought you saw a hint of softness in his eyes, a flicker of something that could almost be… understanding. Maybe, just maybe, you were starting to reach him, one fragile step at a time.

══════════════════

TIME FLEW BY AND WITH THAT, YOU AGED TOO. Slowly, like the steady drip of water carving its path through stone, Ryomen Sukuna began to accept your presence as something constant in his life. At first, it was subtle—the way he no longer sent you away when you appeared by his side, the way he allowed you to linger in his chambers or the garden without a word of complaint.

Over time, it grew into something more. He began to call for you, not often, but enough that you noticed. Sometimes, it was just to sit in silence while he read or stared into the fire, and other times, he would speak to you, his voice low and distant, as if he were speaking to himself rather than you.

He did not love you; you knew that much with painful certainty. His heart belonged to another, to a woman whose name he whispered in his dreams, whose memory seemed to haunt his every step. You were not her, and you never would be. You were a shadow of what he had lost, a pale reflection of a love that had burned too bright and consumed itself in the flames.

But he tolerated you, and in this dark, twisted place where fear ruled and love was a forgotten dream, that was enough. You had learned to find solace in the little things—the way his gaze would occasionally soften when he looked at you, the rare moments when his voice held a note of something other than indifference.

You knew you would never escape Hiromi’s shadow. Her ghost lingered in every corner of this place, in every whispered word and hushed breath, in the way his eyes darkened whenever he spoke of her.

You were not foolish enough to think you could ever replace her in his heart, nor did you wish to. You had come to terms with your fate, with the cruel twist of destiny that had brought you here, to this palace where the walls seemed to whisper her name.

For the finite years of your mortal life, you would be what you were to him—an echo, a shadow, a living memory of something lost. You could have fought against it, could have railed against the injustice of it all, but you chose not to. You chose to make peace with what fate had given you, to find what small joys you could in the fleeting moments he allowed you to be near him.

There were times when the weight of your existence threatened to crush you, when you longed to scream, to demand that he see you for who you were, not for the woman you resembled. But those moments were few and far between, and you had learned to push them down, to bury them deep within your heart where they could not hurt you.

Instead, you found contentment in the little things—in the way his presence filled the room, in the rare, unguarded moments when he would speak to you of things he had buried deep within himself. You listened to his stories, the ones he told in quiet tones when he thought no one was listening, and you treasured them like precious gems, tiny fragments of the man he had once been.

You learned to be grateful for what you had, even if it was not what you had dreamed of. You accepted that you would always live in the shadow of Hiromi, that you would always be the "other woman"; the one who was not loved, but merely tolerated. And for as long as you had breath in your lungs and life in your veins, you chose to find peace in that.

You sat beside him by the fire, you felt a strange sense of calm settle over you. He was quiet, his eyes fixed on the flames, his expression thoughtful. He did not look at you, but you could feel his presence, warm and solid beside you, a reminder that you were not entirely alone in this world.

You turned your gaze to the fire, letting the heat warm your face, and you whispered, almost to yourself, “I do not ask for more than this. I am… content with what I have.”

He glanced at you, his eyes narrowing slightly, as if trying to understand your words. “Content?” he repeated, a hint of incredulity in his voice. “You are content being nothing but a shadow?”

You smiled softly, a hint of sadness in your eyes. “Contentment is a choice, my lord.” you replied. “I chose to be content with what fate has given me. It is not happiness, but it is enough.”

He looked at you for a long moment, his expression unreadable, and then he nodded slowly. “Perhaps you are wiser than I thought now, little one.” he murmured. “To find peace in a place like this… it is no easy feat.”

You nodded, knowing he spoke more to himself than to you. You had accepted that you would never be more than a shadow in his life, but even shadows had their place, their purpose. You would be content with that, for as long as your mortal years allowed.

The days passed with a creeping heaviness that settled into your bones, a fatigue that no amount of rest could cure. You began to feel the strain in every step, the way your breath came shorter, the way your limbs feel heavy and uncooperative. At first, you dismissed it as exhaustion, a lingering effect of sleepless nights and endless thoughts that twisted in your mind like shadows.

But then came the coughing fits, each one more violent than the last, leaving a bitter taste in your mouth and a sharp pain in your chest. You ignored it at first, waving away the concerned glances of the servants who attended you. You kept your back straight and your face serene, refusing to acknowledge the way your body seemed to betray you.

Yet it grew harder to hide. The pain became more frequent, stabbing through your lungs like a knife with every breath, every step. The first time you coughed up blood, it was a shock—a bright, vivid red staining your hand. Your heart raced as you stared at the crimson stain, panic rising like bile in your throat.

You quickly wiped it away, glancing around to see if anyone had noticed. Thankfully, you were alone in your chamber, and you pressed a trembling hand to your chest, willing yourself to calm down. There was no reason to be afraid, you told yourself. It was just a momentary lapse, nothing more.

But it wasn’t. It happened again, and again. You found yourself waking in the night, gasping for air, your throat raw and burning. The servants began to notice the dark circles under your eyes, the way you would clutch your side when you thought no one was looking, the way you moved a little slower, a little more carefully.

There was a day that you sat in the garden, trying to find solace in the soft petals of the cherry blossoms, a violent fit seized you. You doubled over, coughing hard, and felt something wet and warm splatter against your lips. You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand and saw the unmistakable smear of blood.

A sharp gasp came from behind you. One of the younger servants had seen, her eyes wide with fear and concern. She rushed to your side, her hands trembling as she reached out to steady you.

“My lady, oh my!” she whispered, her voice filled with worry. “You’re… you’re bleeding.”

You shook your head, forcing a smile that felt like a grimace. “It is nothing.” you said, your voice hoarse. “Do not worry yourself over me.”

The servant looked unconvinced, her brow furrowed with concern. “I must tell Lord Sukuna.” she said quickly, glancing toward the entrance of the garden as if she expected him to appear at any moment. “He must know—”

“No, no…..” you cut her off sharply, your voice firmer than you had intended. “There is no point in that.”

She hesitated, confusion clouding her eyes. “But, my lady… you are unwell. He should—”

“He would not care, little girl.” you said softly, looking down at your blood-stained hand. “There is no use in troubling him with this. It would make no difference. Sukuna does not love me, nor does he care for me in that way. Do you think he would be moved by something as trivial as this?”

The servant bit her lip, clearly torn between her duty to you and her fear of Sukuna’s wrath. “But… if he knew, he might—”

“Might what?” you interrupted, your voice edged with a quiet resignation. “Send a healer? Take pity on me? No, he would not. I am nothing more than a reminder to him, a shadow of a past he cannot let go. He tolerates me, yes, but that is all.”

The servant looked at you, her eyes filling with tears, but she nodded slowly, understanding the weight of your words. She knew as well as you did that Sukuna’s heart was a barren, desolate place, filled with ghosts and haunted memories. There was no room for you there.

“Promise me, little girl.” you whispered, reaching out to touch her arm gently. “Promise me you won’t tell him.”

She hesitated for a moment, then nodded, her expression tight with worry. “I promise, my lady.” she murmured, though you could hear the doubt in her voice.

You leaned back against the tree, closing your eyes and letting the cool breeze brush against your skin. You knew there was no point in hoping for more than what you had. Sukuna had given you a place by his side, but it was not out of affection. He had lost the woman he truly loved, and you were only a semblance of her—a shadow he tolerated, nothing more.

You were dying, that much was clear. Perhaps it was a blessing in disguise, a way to free yourself from this liminal existence, to escape the torment of being a living reminder of what he had lost. You could find peace in that, you thought. At least, you could try.

You would not burden him with your illness, with your slow, inevitable decline. You would carry it quietly, with dignity, for whatever time you had left. After all, what was one more life in the grand, cruel scheme of his world? You were just another fleeting moment in the endless march of time—another sacrifice, another offering to a man who had already lost everything he had ever cared for.

══════════════════

YOU DECIDED TO LET FATE RUN ITS COURSE. You let time pass by, letting the illness be hidden in the shadows of low whispers and painful tears in your long suffering days and nights. And sure enough, Ryomen Sukuna had returned from his long and exhausting trip within the next few days.

He had been famished from his trip and sent word that he would be having supper with you that night, which you had obliged without another word. You dressed in your finest, watching the servants prepare the table in your chambers and calmly thanked them one after another as they left.

The evening had settled into its usual quiet rhythm, with the two of you sharing dinner in the dimly lit chamber. The flickering candlelight cast long shadows across the walls, and the scent of roasted meat and simmered vegetables filled the air.

It was a routine you had come to accept with a resigned sort of familiarity, a ritual that offered a small measure of normalcy in your otherwise constrained existence.

You sat across from Sukuna, picking at your meal with an absent-mindedness that spoke more to your weariness than any lack of appetite. His presence was imposing, yet tonight, he was unusually subdued, his attention focused on the food in front of him rather than on you. And somehow, you were a bit more grateful for it.

As you took a sip from your cup, you looked up at him, your expression earnest. "My lord, do you not think you should be more understanding of your subjects?" you began, your voice gentle but firm. "I must implore you once more to be more lenient with the people. The fear you instill is one thing, but mercy could win you their loyalty and respect."

Sukuna's eyes, dark and inscrutable, met yours. He did not respond immediately, his gaze lingering on you as if weighing your words. This was not the first time you had made this plea, and it was not likely to be the last. You had grown accustomed to his silence, to the way he would listen but rarely act upon your suggestions.

"It is not for me to coddle them, little one." he said finally, his voice low and dismissive. "Fear is a more effective tool than mercy. It ensures obedience."

You sighed softly, knowing well that your words often fell on deaf ears. Still, you persisted, driven by a conviction that even the smallest act of kindness could make a difference. "I understand your perspective, my lord, but sometimes even the harshest rulers find strength in showing compassion. It can—"

Before you could finish your thought, a sudden, sharp pain gripped your chest. You gasped, doubling over slightly, and a violent coughing fit overtook you. You struggled to steady yourself, but the force of it was too strong. Blood splattered onto the table, the vibrant red stark against the white of your kimono and the pale wood of the dining surface.

Your heart raced as you quickly wiped the blood away with your sleeve, hoping to hide the evidence of your distress. You tried to maintain your composure, but your hands were trembling as you looked up at Sukuna, who had gone still, his eyes fixed on the crimson stain.

For a moment, there was a silence so thick it felt like a physical presence. Ryomen Sukuna’s gaze was heavy and unyielding, his red eyes locked onto the blood that had marred the table and your attire. You could feel the weight of his scrutiny, his silence, a heavy burden that pressed down upon you.

"It's nothing, my lord." you said hurriedly, forcing a weak smile as you tried to brush off the incident. "Just a momentary lapse. Please, continue with your meal."

Sukuna’s expression was unreadable, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studied you. He did not speak, but there was a flicker of something in his gaze—perhaps surprise, or concern, or something deeper that he quickly masked.

You could feel the tension between you, an invisible thread connecting your quiet plea to his unspoken thoughts. It was clear that your condition had not gone unnoticed, even if he chose not to acknowledge it openly. You had always been a presence in his life, but tonight, the reality of your fragility seemed to cut through the usual indifference.

He took a deep breath, his gaze finally shifting away from you as he turned his attention back to his meal. The silence that followed was filled with the soft clinking of utensils and the low murmur of conversation from the servants who hovered at the edges of the room, their eyes darting to you with barely concealed concern.

You ate in silence, each bite of food tasting like ash in your mouth. The pain in your chest had subsided, but a deep weariness remained, a lingering reminder of your deteriorating health. You glanced at Sukuna from time to time, but he was absorbed in his meal, his expression unreadable.

The conversation you had tried to initiate was now buried beneath the weight of your illness, and you knew better than to press further. The battle for his leniency would have to wait for another day, another time when you were not so overshadowed by your own suffering.

As the meal drew to a close, you felt the oppressive silence settle around you once more. Sukuna’s gaze was distant, his thoughts seemingly occupied with matters beyond the confines of the dining room. You could only hope that, in some small way, your presence had made a difference, even if it was not the kind you had hoped for.

When the servants cleared away the dishes and the room began to empty, you excused yourself, retreating to your chamber with a heavy heart. You knew that your time here was growing shorter, that the end was approaching with each passing day. But for now, you would carry on, finding what small measure of peace you could in the fleeting moments you had left.

And as you lay down in your bed, staring up at the ceiling, you could not help but think of the blood you had tried to hide, of the way Sukuna’s eyes had lingered on it. You could only hope that someday, he might see you not as a mere shadow or a reminder of what he had lost, but as a person who had tried, in her own way, to make a difference in his world.

The next morning, you awoke to a disorienting cacophony of shouts and harsh reprimands. The once-familiar silence of your quarters was shattered by the sounds of chaos from the courtyard. Your heart sank as you stumbled out of bed, a sharp pain reminding you of the night before.

As you made your way through the hallways, the noise grew louder, mingling with the harsh, angry tones of Ryomen Sukuna’s voice. Your mind raced, dreading what you might find. You knew it already. You have seen it in the other households of the other concubines. And you can only know what had caused such a commotion. When you reached the courtyard, the scene before you was both startling and terrifying.

Your servants were gathered in the center of the courtyard, their faces pale with fear and their postures crumpled under the weight of Sukuna’s wrath. He stood at the center of the commotion, his expression thunderous as he raged at them. His anger was palpable, his words a relentless storm of fury directed at those who had failed to inform him of your condition.

Your breath caught in your throat, and without thinking, you stepped forward, your heart pounding in your chest. The courtyard fell into a stunned silence as Sukuna’s gaze shifted to you, his eyes dark with a mixture of surprise and irritation.

"My lord, please." you began, your voice trembling as you bowed deeply, your forehead nearly touching the ground. "This is my fault, not theirs. I beg for your forgiveness and mercy for my servants."

Sukuna’s eyes narrowed as he took in your contrite posture, his anger momentarily faltering. He regarded you with a mixture of disbelief and curiosity, his dark, unforgiving, gaze sharp as he assessed your sincerity.

"It was my decision to hide my illness, my lord." you continued, your voice barely more than a whisper. "I did not want to trouble you or cause unnecessary concern. Please, spare them your anger. They were only following my wishes."

Ryomen Sukuna remained silent for a moment, his anger still simmering beneath the surface. The servants, though still shaken, dared to lift their eyes to you, their expressions a blend of relief and apprehension.

Finally, Sukuna's gaze softened, a hint of resignation creeping into his expression. He took a deep breath, his anger dissipating as he looked at you with a new intensity. "You would take the blame for them?" he asked, his voice low and edged with incredulity.

You nodded, maintaining your bowed position. "Yes, my lord. It was my choice, my responsibility. I could not bear the thought of them being punished for my actions."

Sukuna’s expression hardened slightly, but the fury in his eyes had dimmed. After a moment of consideration, he gave a curt nod. "Very well. You will accept any punishment I shall put upon you.”

You swallowed the bile down your throat. “Yes, my lord.”

“Then I will call for healers. You will see them immediately." He says, as though it was the final verdict. “You will see them, all of them. Do you understand?”

“Yes…yes, my lord.” You whispered back to him.

He turned away from the servants, his gaze now fixed on you with an inscrutable intensity. "Go." he commanded, his tone leaving no room for argument. "See to your health, you foolish girl. Your servants too can go. They will tend to you, no matter what you ask.”

You straightened slowly, a mixture of relief and trepidation washing over you. You dared to look up at Sukuna, meeting his eyes briefly before turning to address the servants.

"Thank you, my lord." you said quietly, your voice filled with gratitude. "You have done nothing wrong. Please, return to your duties."

With a final, respectful bow, you turned and headed back toward your quarters with the help of your servants. As you entered your quarters, you felt like you had lived a thousand lifetimes in that one moment. Your servants were bowing at your feet, asking for your forgiveness. But you had all but shooed them away, telling them it was your duty as their master.

You wanted to be alone right now. At least when you still had the chance. When the healers arrive, you would have a life to yourself any longer. You would be stuck in their mercy, with their potions and their whims.

You must prepare yourself for the arrival of the healers. You groaned lowly as you clutch your chest, a wave of pain hitting one after the other. It will be over soon, that’s what you hoped. That’s what you want. You want to be free from this pain. You wanted nothing more than to be free.

══════════════════

THE PAIN WAS RELENTLESS. The days dragged on in a relentless cycle of pain and futile hope. Despite the best efforts of countless healers, none seemed able to bring you any real relief.

If anything, your condition worsened, each new treatment only seeming to accelerate your quick decline. Ryomen Sukuna’s frustration was palpable; his anger had become a regular presence, casting a long shadow over the already bleak atmosphere of the estate.

You had heard the whispers of the fate that befell each healer who failed to improve your condition. It was a grim reminder of Sukuna’s volatility, a dangerous mix of desperation and rage. The once-bustling quarters were now filled with an air of fearful tension as new healers arrived, only to face Sukuna’s wrath when their efforts proved ineffectual.

On one of the rare days when you felt well enough to leave your bed, you chose to sit by the garden. The fresh air and the sight of the vibrant blooms were a welcome distraction from the constant ache in your body. You had managed to position yourself on a stool under the gentle shade of a cherry tree, finding some small comfort in watching the birds flit about, their cheerful chirping a stark contrast to the turmoil that had become your life.

Sukuna appeared in the garden, his presence as imposing as ever. He walked with a deliberate pace, his gaze scanning the surroundings with an air of detached observation. As he neared, you looked up and greeted him with a smile, though the effort felt heavy, as if each movement was a strain against the burden of your illness.

“My lord.” you said softly, your voice barely more than a whisper. “The skies are beautiful today, aren’t they?”

Sukuna stopped, his eyes narrowing slightly as he took in your serene expression. The silence stretched between you, an unspoken tension that lingered like the heat of a summer day. He said nothing in response, his gaze fixed on you with an inscrutable intensity.

After a moment, he broke the silence. “How is it that you can accept death with such… calm?” His voice was low, edged with curiosity and something else you couldn’t quite place.

You blinked, taken aback by his question. A laugh escaped you, soft and brittle, more out of surprise than genuine amusement. “Accept death, my lord?” you repeated. “I haven’t accepted death, in truth. But there is no way to avoid it.”

Sukuna’s eyes remained on you, his expression unreadable as he listened. You continued, your voice tinged with a philosophical resignation. “Death will come for all of us, eventually. It’s a natural end to this life. We all must face it in our own time. In that way, we are all freed from the burdens of this world.”

He studied you with a mixture of skepticism and something akin to contemplation. “You speak as if it is an inevitability you embrace, little one.”

“Not embrace, my lord.” you corrected gently, sighing. “But acknowledge. It’s a part of life, as much as the beginning is. We can fight it or we can accept it, but it will come regardless.”

Sukuna’s gaze softened slightly, though his expression remained stoic. He seemed to be weighing your words, his usual fierceness replaced by an unusual quiet. “And you are not afraid, then?”

“Fear?” You tilted your head, considering the question. “I suppose I am afraid of the pain that might come before the end. But fear of death itself? Not so much. It’s merely another step in the journey, my lord. That is what I believe, at least.”

For a moment, there was a stillness between you, punctuated only by the distant chirping of birds. Sukuna’s eyes flickered to the sky, perhaps contemplating the vastness of existence you had spoken of. The anger that had once seemed so consuming in his presence now appeared subdued, replaced by a contemplative silence.

“I see.” he said finally, his tone carrying a trace of grudging respect. “Your words are… unusual.”

You smiled faintly, a tired but genuine expression. “Perhaps. But sometimes, facing the truth can be a way to find peace, my lord.”

Sukuna stood there for a while longer, his presence a dark silhouette against the backdrop of the garden’s tranquility. Finally, he gave a curt nod and turned to leave, his demeanor less harsh than before. The sound of his footsteps gradually faded as he walked away, leaving you alone once more with your thoughts and the gentle rustle of leaves in the breeze.

As you sat there, watching the birds and the shifting clouds, you felt a small measure of contentment. Sukuna’s visit had brought a moment of introspection, a reminder of the fragile balance between life and death. Even in your suffering, you found a semblance of peace, understanding that acceptance was not about surrendering to fate but about finding a way to live with it, even as the end loomed ever closer.

And just like that, the day you had dreaded finally arrived. And truly, you were left feeling an unbearable weakness that signaled the end was near. The once-familiar confines of your quarters now seemed like a distant world, and the pain of your illness was a constant, gnawing presence. Each breath was a struggle, each moment of consciousness a battle against the encroaching darkness.

To your surprise, your lord Sukuna appeared by your side as you lay on your bed, his imposing figure contrasting sharply with the fragility of your own condition. He had not been a part of your daily existence in the past weeks, his visits sporadic and his presence usually marked by anger and frustration. But now, he was here, seated beside you in a rare display of stillness.

You looked at him through the haze of pain and weakness, your voice a mere whisper. “My lord, it seems this is my time to part from you.”

Sukuna’s eyes were steady, his gaze betraying an emotion you could not fully decipher. “I know, little one.” he replied simply, his voice holding a note of finality.

A pained laugh escaped your lips, the sound mingling with a shuddering breath. “I only wish… I could avoid being reborn into such misery again. To be the other woman, to be nothing to you.”

Sukuna’s silence stretched between you, a weighty pause that seemed to deepen the divide between you. After a moment, he spoke, his voice low but firm. “You were something.”

You shook your head, the effort to move even slightly causing a fresh wave of agony. “You lie easily, as you breathe, my lord.” you said with a faint, sorrowful smile.

The silence that followed was heavy and palpable, filled with the unspoken complexities of your relationship. As you lay there, the end drawing closer with each passing moment, you found a strange clarity in the finality of your situation.

“I love you, my lord.” you said softly, the words carrying a weight that transcended the physical pain. “As sad as it is, I do. But I have no intention of having it returned. I hope that, in the next life, I never meet you again.”

Sukuna’s expression remained impassive, but there was a softness in his gaze that belied his usual stoic demeanor. As you took your final, labored breaths, his sigh was a mix of resignation and something deeper, something that spoke to the complexity of your intertwined fates.

“I hope so too, little one.” he said quietly, his voice carrying a rare touch of vulnerability.

With those words hanging in the air, you felt a sense of release, the weight of your suffering beginning to lift. As your consciousness faded and the pain finally ebbed away, you left behind the world that had been both your prison and your refuge. Ryomen Sukuna looked at your lifeless body, pursing his lips into a flat line.

“Live on in a better life, little one.” He whispered, his fingers brushing against your hair. “May you be loved by someone who loves you. May we never meet again, my other woman."

1K notes · View notes

ervotica · 10 months

Note

"I'm here, I've got you-" with mentor!finnick right after reader wins the games?! ilysm 🥺🥺

pairing: mentor!finnick odair x victor!reader.

warnings: finnick greets you after you win the games, and consoles your anxiety. something more ensues…

hunger games masterlist

Your bruised knuckles shake where you wring them in your lap; the tribute quarters are so empty, hollow and bereft of any signs of life other than yourself. You've scrubbed your skin raw in the shower, still flushed and tingling from the coarse brush you used to rid yourself of the dried blood and dirt.

You want Finnick.

You know mentors are always the first to greet victors after the games, and you need him more than anyone else right now.

The door creaks your head snaps up where you're laying. He’s at your side in an instant, concern carved into his features as he reaches out for you.

You tremble at his touch; palm against your cheek, arm hooked around your waist as he begins drawing you up and into him.

"How are you doing?" he asks, voice low and soft and caring.

The tears well almost unconsciously, catching on your waterline and spilling down your hot cheeks.

"Not so good," you admit despite yourself.

"I know, honey. I know," he murmurs, tugging you toward him as gently as he can manage. You're in his lap before you can register what's happening, and you tuck yourself up small, head under his chin, shoulders under his armpits.

"I'm sorry," you cry, "I'm so sorry."

"Shh, you have nothing to be sorry for. You did everything you were supposed to." He kisses the top of your head, hair still damp from the shower.

"Okay." You nod vehemently, almost like you're trying to convince yourself that he's right, that you're not a monster after what you had to do in the games. "Will you hold my hand?"

Finnick smiles and it pushes his dimples out- they're crescent moon shaped. You resist the urge to reach out and touch them.

"Of course I will."

His thick fingers entwine with yours like puzzle pieces, like that's where they've always been, where they're always meant to be. You bring his knuckles to your face and hold them there, against your cheek as you rest on his broad shoulder. Your bottom lip starts to tremble.

"I'm here, I've got you," he murmurs. "I'm right here."

You tilt your head to gaze at him, uninhibited affection practically oozing from your every pore. He leans in- you’re close enough to feel his breath on your face.

Your lashes kiss at the corners as your eyes flutter closed and he takes that as an invitation. His lips slot between your own like they live there and the kiss feels like coming home. When he pulls back, you chase him.

He meanders away from your lips with his kisses: the corner of your mouth, your cheek, a lingering one on your forehead. Your hand, still laced with his own, is holding him so tightly you’re scared you’re cutting off his circulation. He can feel your anxiety.

“I’m not going anywhere, sweetheart. I’ve got you.”

You’re smiling this time when you say,

“Okay.”

6K notes · View notes

winterarmyy · 2 months

Text

Against All Odds | Part I

An arranged marriage with the duke's illegitimate son!bucky.

Summary: In a medieval kingdom where magic and political intrigue are woven into the fabric of society, Y/N, the youngest daughter of a noble Earl family, finds herself in an arranged marriage to James Buchanan Barnes, the illegitimate son of the Duke. Known as the Winter Soldier, Bucky's reputation as a monster in war had instilled anxiety into Y/N's heart. But that fear quickly begins to crumble when she discovers that her husband is not the brutal figure society depicts him to be.

Navigation: Part I | Part II | Part III (end)

Words: 8.1k++

Pairing: duke's illegitimate son!bucky x noble!female!reader

Warnings: fantasy/medieval au, i did not write this with much knowledge of fantasy nor medieval lore. I write it solely for plot and the couple dynamic lmao. if you're expecting full blown fantasy novel; this ain't it, man. anyways, 18+ contents, no minors allowed, nsfw, cunnilingus, p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, loss of virginity, praise kink, breeding kink (if you squint), marking kink (i think), soft fluffy smut, a wee bit of dirty talk. soft!reader and even softer!bucky. (idk what else, so tell me if there's something i miss.)

P/S: This is the fic for an idea I had earlier this year. The first chapter will only cover the original post but what happens next is something you will need to look forward on the upcoming chapters. Enjoy your read!

Read my other works here: Masterlist

Y/N stood in front of the grand mirror in her chamber, her reflection staring back at her with wide, fearful eyes. The delicate lace of her wedding dress was the opposite of the twisting anxiety in her stomach. Today, she was to marry James Buchanan Barnes, the illegitimate son of the Duke of the kingdom, a man labelled to be more beast than human.

He was known as the Winter Soldier, a title whispered with both fear and awe. Tales of his gruesome feats in battle, his merciless brutality, and his cold, metal arm was deemed as a horror story for the children in the kingdom. People spoke of him as a monstrous weapon, a beast moulded by the Emperor to do his bidding without question or hesitation.

Y/N had heard the stories many times before; and it has always been a hushed conversation that floats around whether a ballroom of a gala, or at the tables of the garden parties, sometimes even in between the racks of books in the library.

They always painted a picture of a man who lived only for war, devoid of humanity.

She couldn't help but let these tales feed her imagination. What kind of man was he truly? Did he revel in the violence, or was he a prisoner to his fate? Y/N shuddered at the thought, her heart heavy with fear and uncertainty.

Her father, the Earl, had made it clear why she needed to marry him. It was a political manoeuvre, a strategic alliance to strengthen their family's position. The duke, Bucky's father, wielded considerable power, and their union would bring the Earl closer to the heart of the kingdom's influence.

And when he heard that the duke was looking for a wife for his bastard son, he knew that she would be perfect. That was when Y/N, the youngest daughter, became the pawn in this game. Her father's ambitions certainly outweighed any consideration for her feelings or desires.

Y/N had always longed for a marriage of love, a dream she clung to despite her circumstances. She was a hopeless romantic through and through; much like her late mother. She remembered the nights when her mother would read to her and her siblings, spinning tales of prince charming and valiant heroes.

The fire crackled warmly in the hearth as her mother’s soothing voice filled the room. Y/N and her siblings, her older brother Eric and sister Clara, lay tucked under blankets, their eyes wide with wonder.

"And then the prince, with a heart full of love, swept the princess into his arms, vowing to protect her forever," her mother read, her voice a melodic whisper.

Y/N, her eyes sparkling with innocence, declared, "When I grow up, I want to marry a prince charming too!"

Clara, ever the practical one, nodded in agreement. "Me too! He has to be brave and kind."

Eric, being a little boy, scrunched his nose in distaste. "I don’t want to get married. I want to be a knight!"

Their mother chuckled softly, brushing a strand of hair from Y/N’s forehead. "It does not matter if he is a prince charming or a humble knight. As long as you marry the one you love, that is what truly matters."

Y/N's heart ached at the memory. How she wished her mother were still here to guide her through this terrifying day. The gentle knock on the door brought her back to the present.

"Lady Y/N, it’s time," one of the maids said softly.

Y/N took a long and deep breath, smoothing down the fabric of her dress. She followed the maid down the corridor, her mind a swirl of emotions. Reaching the grand doors of the church, her father waited for her.

"Remember, Y/N," he said, his voice stern. "Do not mess this up. Just endure it. And you'll be fine. This is the most useful you can be to our family."

Her heart sank further; yet she nodded obediently.

Compared to Y/N, her elder brother, a celebrated swordsman, and her sister, a master in the art of business, had always outshone her in their father's eyes. Y/N's talent with languages; ancient and modern – was seen as a useless skill, something that brought no tangible benefit to the family.

Her father had never been cruel when she was younger but everything changed when her mother died. In fact, everyone in the family had lost a piece of their soul when she left. Now, his lack of affection only increases the number of scars on her heart.

The doors opened, revealing the crowds of high-ranking nobles; who were mostly strangers – staring at her. Some were judging her; some pitied her. She reminded herself that she was doing this for her family, for the greater good. But the little girl inside her who dreamed of prince charming certainly felt a pang of sorrow.

As she walked down the aisle, her legs trembled, and her hands shook so violently that she had to clasp them together to steady herself. From afar, she saw the silhouette of the man she was destined to marry. His tall and huge figure stood out compared to anyone in the hall. As she got closer, she kept her gaze fixed on the floor, too afraid to look up at her husband-to-be.

When she finally reached the altar, the priest began the ceremony. His speech was long and dragging, giving Y/N too much time to entertain her growing curiosity that she dared to glance up at the man next to her. Even from behind the veil, she could see his towering and broad-shouldered build, his presence commanding the room. His long hair was slightly untamed, and a scruffy beard framed his face. His metal hand, glinting in the sun that leaked through the church’s windows, was a jarring reminder of the rumors that surrounded him.

There were no heartfelt vows to recite to each other; only their promise of "I do" was exchanged. And that was the first time Y/N heard his voice. It was deep and resonant, sending a shiver down her spine; but there was a certain warmth in it that contrasted sharply with his fearsome reputation.

When the priest announced their union and Bucky lifted her veil, Y/N was struck by the unexpected gentleness in his eyes. They were a brilliant, mesmerizing blue, and for a moment, she forgot to breathe. Bucky's eyes softened as he looked at her, his gaze tender and almost reverent. Slowly, he placed one hand gently around her waist, pulling her slightly closer. His other hand came up to cup her cheek, his touch surprisingly gentle against her skin.

Y/N's heart pounded in her chest as he leaned in, her breath catching in her throat. When his lips met hers, they were soft, warm, and so unexpected. She could smell his cologne; an earthy, woodsy scent mixed with a hint of something fruity; like peaches or tangerines. It made her head spin and her heart jumped all at the same time.

The kiss was gentle and unhurried, very much differs to the forceful gesture she had feared. As he pulled away, Y/N found herself blinking slowly, her cheeks flushed and her fear momentarily replaced by confusion and a surprising awe. She was caught off guard by the tenderness of his touch, the way his lips had brushed against hers so gently.

Could the rumors about him be wrong?

"I’m sorry if I startled you," he said, his voice low and gentle. "I hope I didn’t scare you, my dear."

Y/N blinked slowly, trying to process the sudden shift in her emotions. The fear that had gripped her so tightly seemed to dissipate, replaced by a confusing mix of relief and intrigue. Her hands, which had been trembling, now rested at her sides, feeling strangely steady. Her eyes met his, and she could see softness in his gaze that contradicted the harsh rumors she had heard.

“I—no, you didn’t scare me,” she managed to say; her voice barely more than a whisper. She took a deep breath, her cheeks getting warmer as she processed the endearment he just called her. On the other hand, her mind was racing as she tried to reconcile the man in front of her with the fearsome figure of the Winter Soldier.

Bucky’s eyes mellowed even further, his gaze glazed with a tenderness that seemed to pierce through the weight of the room. A warm smile spread across his face, and he held her gaze with a comforting assurance.

“Good,” he said, his voice carrying a gentle affection. “I’m glad to hear that.”

The reception that followed was a blur of faces and polite conversation. Y/N moved through the crowd, accepting congratulations and well-wishes, but her mind was elsewhere. She couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to Bucky than the rumors suggested. Every time she caught his eye, he gave her a small, reassuring smile that made the butterflies inside of her go wild.

As the evening drew to a close, they were escorted to one of the Emperor’s palaces, a grand and opulent residence that was to serve as their temporary home before they traveled north to Bucky’s territory. The palace, with its lavish furnishings and golden accents, seemed to mock the uncertainty Y/N felt. She had been assigned a chamber to prepare for the night, and the palace maids were bustling around her, helping her into a set of elaborate, far-from-modest lingerie.

The palace’s maids’ whispers and side glances did nothing to ease her growing anxiety. Their condescending tones and occasional snickers were laced with cruel speculation about how roughly Bucky would treat her. The more Y/N overheard, the more her apprehension grew. Despite the gentleness Bucky had shown her earlier, she found herself doubting its sincerity.

Could he really be the caring husband he appeared to be, or was it all just an elaborate show?

The maids finally left, their laughter fading down the hallway, leaving Y/N alone in the grand chamber. Her heart raced, and cold sweat formed at her brow as she sat quietly on the edge of the ornate bed. She kept her gaze firmly on the floor, her hands fidgeting in her lap. The room felt enormous, its sheer size heightening her sense of isolation and dread.

The door creaked open, and Bucky entered the room. Y/N’s heart nearly stopped as she heard the heavy, measured footsteps approaching. She couldn’t bring herself to look up, her body tense and her mind a swirl of panic and unease. She almost held her breath entire when she felt the slight indentation of the mattress beside her.

“Y/N,” Bucky’s voice was soft and coaxing, a distinct difference to the coldness she was expecting. “Look at me.” He continued. She hesitated momentarily; torn between obeying and disobeying but ultimately decided to raise her eyes to meet his.

The sight of him; his upper body bare, revealing a tapestry of scars and the stark metal of his prosthetic arm; made her breath hitch. Her eyes traced the lines of his faded wound, particularly the jagged marks where his shoulder met his metal arm. She couldn’t help but feel a pang of sorrow and concern. Her fingers, almost of their own accord, reached out to trace the contours of his chest and shoulder.

Bucky let the innocence of her touch to trace the most tainted parts of him; however noting her trembling eyes, he misunderstood her apprehension. “I want you to know, Y/N,” he said, his voice firm yet gentle, “that I will never hurt you. You are safe with me.”

Y/N shook her head, her heart aching. She felt an unexplainable pain growing in her chest as she gazed at him. Her fingers still lightly touching his scars; her eyes, full of unshed tears, silently asked a question she was too afraid to voice. “Does it still hurt?” she wanted to ask, her expression betraying her concern.

Bucky’s eyes sparkled with affection, and he took her hand in his, holding it tenderly against his chest. “Don't worry. It does not hurt anymore,” he said with a reassuring smile.

The connection between them was electric, charged with a deep, unspoken understanding. Bucky’s gaze was steady and filled with a depth of unspoken emotion that took Y/N’s breath away. “I know this is difficult for you, Y/N,” he said, his voice laden with sincerity. “But I promise, I will do everything in my power to make you happy.”

His words and the way he looked at her left Y/N feeling both comforted and overwhelmed. For the first time since their wedding, she felt a genuine, flickering hope that maybe, just maybe, their marriage could become something more than a mere political arrangement. Bucky’s assurances, his gentleness, and the tenderness in his eyes began to dissolve the fears she had harboured since the beginning of their union.

As they sat there, the weight of the night’s expectations seemed to lift, replaced by a fragile but growing trust. Y/N had entered this marriage with a sense of duty, convinced that she would have to endure the consummation of their union as a matter of obligation. But Bucky’s tenderness, his understanding, and the sincere reassurance he had given her began to change her perspective.

The idea of fulfilling her marital duty had initially felt like a burden she had to bear. She had steeled herself to face it with resignation, convinced that it was merely another part of her role in this arranged marriage. But now, she found herself reconsidering. The idea of being with him no longer felt like an obligation but a possibility of something more profound and intimate.

Y/N hands softly toyed with the delicate strings of her sheer lingerie, pulling it softly as her doe eyes signalled her husband of her intention. Bucky, sensing the shift in her demeanor, looked into her eyes with a mixture of concern and affection. “Are you sure, my dear?” he asked softly. “I want you to feel safe with me and not afraid of me.”

Y/N’s heart fluttered as she met his gaze, her own eyes reflecting the depth of her emotions. “I am,” she said with quiet conviction. “I feel safe with you, James”

Bucky's hand naturally went to brush her hair behind her ear, “It’s Bucky, my dear,” he corrected softly.

“Hmm?” she asked, slightly puzzled.

He chuckled warmly. “You can call me Bucky from now on. It’s a nickname only a selected few who I trust and love knows.” Her eyes sparkled at his choice words; trust and love.

“Bucky…” she tested the name on her tongue, the syllables feeling strangely intimate. Upon hearing his name from her lips, Bucky’s heart swelled, almost bursting from his ribcage. He hummed in approval, “That's right, my dear. I’m your Bucky.”

His reassuring smile grew wider, his calloused thumb gently stroke her cheek causing a shiver to strum all over her nerves; sending an emerging desire. One she had not fully acknowledged until now. The way he looked at her, the pure and raw endearment in his eyes, and the softness of his touch stirred something deep within her.

As the moments passed, Y/N realised she wanted this. She wanted to feel his lips on hers, to explore the warmth of his hands, to connect with him on a level she had longed for. The yearning for his touch, which had been dormant under layers of fear and uncertainty, now surged forward with undeniable intensity.

Without fully understanding why, Y/N found herself leaning closer to him, her breath coming in soft, eager gasps. She whispered, her voice barely audible but full of longing, “Bucky, please.”

Bucky’s expression softened, and a tender light filled his blue eyes, “May I?” he asked, his voice low and gentle as he held out his hand. There a shy hesitation before she finally placed her hand in his.

With a gentle but firm pull, Bucky lifted her onto his lap, his careful hands beginning the process of undressing her. Each movement was full of care, yet almost deliberate, as he slowly removed her dress, leaving her in nothing but the flimsy lace piece covering the sacred area between her thighs.

Bucky's eyes roamed over her bare skin, admiration clear in his gaze. Y/N could feel the heat of his gaze, the way his eyes traced every curve and contour of her body. The intensity of it made her feel both vulnerable and cherished, a potent combination that sent pleasurable shivers all over her body.

Seeing the hunger in his blue eyes, she felt the warmth of his body and caught the scent of him; the same once she noticed at the church; warm and comforting. Her breath quickened, and she found herself unsure of what to do or where to place her hands, feeling like a deer caught in headlights.

Noticing the subtle panic, Bucky reached for her hands and guided them through the thick strands of his long hair. “You can touch me as you please, my dear,” he whispered, his voice soothing as he reassured her. He leaned in to kiss her bare shoulder, then moved up to her neck, along her jaw, leaving a trail of warmth on her skin.

Y/N’s fingers tangled in his hair, the softness surprising her. The intimacy of the moment, combined with his gentle kisses, began to dissolve the last remnants of her anxiety. The feel of his lips on her skin was electrifying, each kiss sending waves of sensation she never felt before.

Bucky’s hands, still careful and tender, caressed her back, drawing her closer to him. Her breath hitched as he kissed the valley of her breasts; soft gasps escaping her lips as Bucky begins to lick and sucked on her delicate skin; likely trying to mark his claim on her.

Every touch and little kisses he left sent shivers straight to her already dripping core. And by the time his lips grazed her nipple, her body jerked forward; in response, unintentionally dragging her aching pussy against his thick thigh.

His lips latched around her right nipples as he licks and sucks the hardening skin; lapping at it as if he was feeding from her. The sensation was overwhelming, yet she found herself leaning into his touch, her body responding to his gentle ministrations. The grip on his hair grew tighter as the strings of moans poured out her lips.

Bucky’s large hands find their place on her hips, guiding her to gently rut on his thigh. Trusting him, she followed his lead as he continue to grind her clit through the thin fabric she was wearing; introducing the sweet friction in on her core. Bucky pulled back slightly to look into her eyes, his expression filled with a mixture of subtle affection and desire. “You’re doing wonderfully, my dear. Can feel your pussy leaking on me. Do you feel good?” he murmured as he dipped back to kiss her neck.

Oh, he was filthy with his choice of words but surprisingly she was not mad about it. In fact she didn’t even notice the whimpers purring in her throat upon hearing those sinful words.

It was as if Bucky recognized that needy sound she made; it caused a smile to spread on his lips. She can feel it grow against the skin in between her breasts, “My my, is my sweet wife feeling needy right now?” he teased playfully as he effortlessly lifted her up and laid her down on their bed.

Placing himself in between her soft thighs, his lustful gaze trained on her naked body; he admired the marks he has left on her breasts, the wet patch on the flimsy fabric covering her cunt, and the way her breath shuddered when he teasingly grind his harden cock against her.

Y/N can feel the contrast of his hands on her thigh, one warm, one cold. Her eyes drew her attention from his hands to his gorgeous face. Oh, the pure unfiltered lust in his eyes was pulling her in so effortlessly; seducing her to submit her body and soul to him completely. Shying away from his stare, she dragged her view down to his chiselled jaw, his broad chest then slowly to his beautiful abs.

She admired his body as much as he did of hers.

But what was more prominent out of all, was the way she could feel his erection throbbing against her heat. Blood went rushing towards her face when Bucky guided her hips against the confinement of his cock, which in response; causing her hands naturally found their way to cover her face in embarrassment.

A deep chuckle bubbled from Bucky’s throat; he found her reaction to be absolutely endearing. He leaned down towards her, one hand holding himself up and another tenderly pulling her hands away, then drawing it close to his chest, right against his beating heart.

Having nowhere to run, Y/N’s teary eyes drowned in his ocean blues, “Don’t hide from me, dearest.” He peppered a delicate kiss on her forehead, then on her nose, then on her cheek. She could feel the prickly sensation of his beard grazing on her skin. It was ticklish and a little bit painful and yet weirdly enough, it felt good that it naturally made her want to nuzzle it more.

But before she could, Bucky’s lips were already making their way down to her stomach. Her body responds to how soft his lips trailing down; and further down until she could feel them on her clothed core. A surprised yelp fell from her lips as he tore the last piece of clothing from her.

“Now, hands away from your face, my dear. I want to see that beautiful eyes of yours when I eat your sweet pussy.” his voice was honeyed when he made himself comfortable in between her thighs. His hands reached upwards to intertwine both of her hands with his own; acting as a restraint to restrict her from covering her face.

Y/N almost sat up upon hearing his words, “Eat what now?”, the question she had in mind was unable to be vocalised; due to her confusion. Prior to marriage, she had learned about sex and its purpose in her marital studies. Unbeknownst to her, the knowledge she had was few and limited for academic purposes only. Which means there were only the few illustrations of penetration depicted in books and the process of how children are bred as a result of it.

So what does he mean when he said those words? While she was still lost and confused, Bucky on the other hand was in his own world; completely and utterly transfixed on the glistening need of her cunt. She was dripping wet; the juices covering her slits perfectly; her scent was intoxicating and if it weren’t for the fact that this is her first time, Bucky would’ve ate her like a man starved of touch. But, he can’t do that. Not tonight. He wanted to be gentle; to cherish her, to love on her.

Seeing the darkened clouds in his eyes as he stared at her private, Y/N braved herself to ask, “What are you– ohh hmmm” her sentence ended up transforming into a toe curling moan as she felt Bucky’s wet tongue flattened across her weeping core. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head as he dragged her clit into his mouth and sucked. He strummed her clit with his tongue, causing her to arch her back and he took the opportunity to push his face further into her cunt; licking and sucking quite the literal soul out her.

It felt amazing but her self-consciousness won the battle in her head, she let out a whimpering plea, “Buc--bucky st-stop. That’s dirty.” as she gripped on his hands, trying to escape from his grip. Bucky growled against her in response to her futile protest. The sweet vibration only caused her pleasure all over her fluttering core.

When Bucky pulled away for a moment; it caused her to feel a sense of loss. “It’s not dirty, my dear. In fact, it’s so sweet.” His lips moved to kiss on her inner thigh, murmuring against her skin as he left yet more of his marks on her, “So fucking sweet.” He releases his right hand from hers, just to rub his thumb on her clit, slowly dragging it in between her slit; smearing her wetness all around her throbbing bundle of nerves. Her thighs trembled to the sensation of his rough movement of his thumb and a string of shaky mewls fell out of her.

“But..” she tried to protest but immediately stopped when Bucky brought his soaked thumb to her mouth. Her lips were wet from how he gently smeared the juices on her, “Taste yourself.” He lured her softly. Hesitation glints in her eyes as her cheeks redden. Bucky’s eyes grew tender at her watery ones, he whispered lowly, “Sweetheart, do you trust me?”

She does; but she does not trust her own voice to not come out sounding like a needy moan, so she simply nodded. Bucky’s pink lips spread into a smile, “Good girl. Now, open up.” he coaxed lovingly.

Y/N opened her mouth as she was told and let Bucky slip his thumb inside; he was not shy to smother her juices across her tongue, coaxing her to suck on it. To get a taste of what he was having. “It’s sweet”, she thought to herself. A muffled moan purred in her throat at the thought of her husband enjoying the taste of her.

Bucky smirk grew at her reaction, “Tastes good huh, sweetheart?” he pulled his thumb away, leaving her nodding to his question. “Now are you going to let me enjoy your pussy?” his brow quirked when he tilted his head to the side. How can she deny him now? Her eyes glazed with need as she replied, “Yes, please”.

Her mouth falls open in anticipation as a low moan creeps up her throat. Bucky’s tongue slips past her folds, she watched him between her legs, savouring her pussy with his unfiltered groans vibrating against her sensitive spot. Breathless moans and incoherent pleads fall from her mouth as the soft and firm tip of his tongue circled her swollen pearl and flicked it. Bucky’s hands went to her hips, guiding it in time with her own movements, giving her partial control to set the pace.

“Buckyyyy.” She gasped as she alternated between wanting to push his head away or keep him in place. Meanwhile, the man in between her thighs had lost himself; consumed by pure desire the more he drank from her cunt. His tongue moved faster against her clit when he noticed the beat of her throbbing cunt increased. She was going to come. He was sure of it.

The way that she was practically creaming on his tongue drove him near feral. He kept lapping at her juices as if it was the sweetest honey he ever tasted; fuck he even sucked her clit in hopes to force out more of her nectar to leak; then he’d lap on it again.

The sweet cycle had pushed Y/N over the edge, her eyes rolling back as pleasure and her hips slightly lifted as pleasure surges through her veins.“Oh oh Bucky please please.” She didn’t what she was begging for as she chanted his name. “I’m gonna, ‘m gonna–“ her words died as she squealed; her body trembling in pleasure.

His tongue moved faster against her clit; her cum was dripping out of her; coating his beard but his frantic licks didn’t stop even when she continue to gush on his tongue.

“Bucky please, sensitive..” It was too much; her orgasm, her swollen clit, his tongue. Everything.

Unfortunately for her, Bucky was far gone to stop now. He had the taste of her cum, now he wants nothing more than to have it again. Despite her protest, Bucky held her hip down, interlocking his hands across her stomach to keep her in place and continue to lick and suck on her overstimulated cunt.

Her whiny pleas didn’t come across as a sign for him to stop; instead it kept him going causing him to bury his face further in between her legs. His cock continued to throb in his pants, probably leaking with so much pre-cum and in need of some sort of relief but he ignored it. He wants nothing more than for Y/N to cum on his tongue again.

And that is exactly what happened next.

The moment she fell over the edge, Bucky pushed her even harder against him as her whole body spasmed. He maintained his pace on lapping up at her all throughout her high as her hands went from his hair to the headboard, trying to hold her limp body upright. Y/N took a moment to gather herself together, panting heavily as she regained their senses; while Bucky was swift to pull his pants off and throw it to the side.

He grabbed on her hips, holding her firmly in place as his heavy leaking cock nestled between her aching pussy. “Are you sure about this, my dear?” his hot breath fanning against her neck as he gently ruts into her heat. Even though Bucky can see the darken lust in her eyes, he still wanted to make sure that she was sure of her decision.

Y/N’s heart swelled at his concern, and she found herself smiling, a genuine smile that reflected the warmth she felt inside. She pulled him closer and kissed him, pouring all her newfound trust and affection into the kiss. “Yes, Bucky. I am very sure. ”

Bucky quickly responded with equal passion, his tongue slipped in between her lips; exploring the warmness of her mouth, the softness of her tongue. Their muffled moans filled the silenced room, his hands moved to caress her sides, drawing her even closer before breaking away from the heated kiss.

Resting his forehead on hers, his eyes trained on her beautiful face; not wanting to miss his chance to witness the pleasure contorting on her expression. He nudges her clit first, rubbing it slow and sensual before trailing down to her entrance. Gradually, he inches closer, he pushes in and through the tightness of her sacred channel.

Delving impossibly deep, her tightness wrapped around his thick cock until the tip of him reached the deepest parts of her. The sudden feeling of fullness on her untainted pussy caused her to experience both pain and the delightful sensation inside her. The ecstasy of being so knitly connected to each other caused both of them to simultaneously let out moans and groans of raw pleasure.

Bucky waited for her to adjust to his size; leaning down to pamper her with the softest kisses and praises that tears started to swell in her eyes. It was as if Bucky knew exactly what she wanted to hear, how she wanted to be treated and what makes her feel good.

“You’re doing so good, my dear.”

“Look at how perfect your pussy’s taking my cock. So perfect.”

“Made for me aren’t you, sweetheart?. Made to be loved by me, made to be stuffed full of my cock.”

“I promise you’ll be safe with me, Y/N. Always.”

When Y/N finally gave him the permission to move, Bucky kissed her pouty lips and murmured sweetly, “Thank you, my dear.” His hands travelled to find her ankle; which he then gently prop her calf over his broad shoulder. He started pumping in and out slowly, letting her get used to the friction.

Bucky couldn’t help but to groan out to the feeling of her wet hole gripping his cock ever-so-tightly. It was slippery and dripping, that he almost completely slid out of her. Gripping her closer he continue ramming himself back in, deeper, harder; sliding in and out of her at an even pace. Each force of his cock causing her body to jerk in ecstasy; hitting that good spot in her so perfectly.

“S-shit, sweetheart,” he moans deep and heavy as he felt her pussy tightening around him. His metal hand slid in between them and his thumb hones in on her clit. The coldness of his finger made her jolt at first but when he proceeded to rub and pinch on it, everything suddenly started to feel too intense; so incredibly good.

With his fingers assaulting her clit, each thrust of his cock and every deep guttural moan and groan coming from Bucky, she felt her release was growing closer. Bucky also started thrusting faster and harder; he knew he was about to come. Especially when he can feel how much pre-cum has been leaking inside her.

He leaned and rested his forehead on hers, his needy ruts became more and more irregular when her pretty doe eyes looked up at him, “Cum for me, my dear.” his lips brushed against Y/N’s as he coaxed her to her sweet release. His thrusts got harsher and deeper and the friction of his metal finger working on her clit got her cunt to frantically tremble around him, “I wanna feel you milk my cock, sweetheart. Then, I’m gonna my pump cum inside you until you’re leaking.”

Although his words were debauched to no end, however Y/N could sense his genuine affection for her. She felt his sincerity in the way he looked at her, in the way he held her, in the silenced gaze they shared. Overwhelmed with pleasure, her nails dragged across Bucky’s back as she moaned and screamed out his name; letting the high took over her body.

“Fuck,, sweetheart. I’m gonna cum!” groaned as he took in the sound of her pleasured mewls. He ruthlessly grinds into her, savouring the feeling of her cunt tightened around him. With one last rut, he thrust his cock, balls deep inside and let his warm white strings filling her up to the brim. His cock twitches in her fluttering cunt, his legs tensing with every small grind he makes, groaning lowly at her as he bites down on her shoulder, almost drooling on her as he emptied himself completely into her.

Y/N continued to let out strings of soft moans as he pulled out from her leaking cunt; all swollen and sensitive. While she thought she could finally catch some breaths, she didn’t notice the way Bucky was biting on his lip at the sight of his cum dripping out of her, or how his hands lazily tugging on his now hardened cock.

“Dearest?” Bucky hovered above her as he cradled her by her flushed cheeks. She smiled sweetly as she leaned to his touch, “Yes, Bucky?”, she was anticipating him to utter more of those soft words and praises to her; but instead his lips curled into a devilish grin when he slid his cock back into her, immediately pulling a long sinful mewl of his name from her. Bucky hummed approvingly in response; he gently brushed his lips against hers, “May I fill you up again?”

As the morning sun streamed through the windows, Y/N slowly stirred awake. She reached out, instinctively searching for the warmth of her husband beside her, but found the space empty. A pang of loneliness touched her heart, but it was quickly replaced by curiosity when she saw a bouquet of bluebells, her favourite flower, placed delicately on the bedside table.

Next to the bouquet was a note. With a small smile, she picked it up and began to read.

"My Dearest Y/N,

I hate to leave you alone this morning, but I must ensure our journey home is smooth and safe. I trust you slept well, and I promise to return to your side as soon as I can.

Yours always,

Bucky"

The words written on the note were filled with sincerity and reassurance that made her heart flutter. She smiled, a blush creeping across her cheeks as she wondered how he knew bluebells were her favourite.

Just as she was lost in thought, the door opened, and the palace’s maids entered the room. Their faces were a mixture of curiosity and impatience, clearly expecting to see a frightened and bruised young bride.

However, when they saw Y/N's skin, they temporarily froze in their spots. Her skin was indeed bruised, but each one of them recognized the marks for what they were: love marks, not signs of harsh abuse that they were expecting. The traces of Bucky's possessive love were prominent all over her neck, chest, and inner thighs, leaving Y/N blushing as the maids, too, found themselves flushed with embarrassment.

“Well, isn’t this a surprise,” one of the older maids muttered under her breath, her tone laced with irritation. Another maid, with a more condescending sneer, huffed. “Looks like we lost the bet, ladies. Who would have thought the beast could be so... tender?”

Y/N’s cheeks burned with a mix of embarrassment and pride. She could feel their resentful glances and knew they were not pleased with the outcome. The marks on her body were a testament to the affection and desire Bucky had shown her, and despite the initial fear, she now wore them as symbols of the unexpected bond they had begun to forge.

The head maid, who had been the most vocal the night before, now seemed to handle her with an edge of bitterness. The other maids, who had been so quick to judge, were now silent, their eyes wide with resentment.One of the younger maids, braver than the rest, couldn’t hide her frustration. “Well, my lady, I suppose you’re alright, then?” she asked, her voice barely masking her disappointment.

Y/N looked at her, considering the appropriate response. If it was up to her, she ought to punish every single one of them for not knowing their place. Unfortunately, they were not her maids to begin with, but the palace's staff. Otherwise, she would likely fire each one of them.

The memory of Bucky’s affection and care filled her heart, leaving no room for anger or resentment. The warmth of his embrace and the gentle way he had treated her made the maids' behaviour seem petty and insignificant.

She could still feel the lingering touch of his lips on her skin, the way his hands had caressed her so delicately, and the sound of his reassuring voice. Her body was still tingling with the remnants of the previous night's intimacy. Her skin bore the marks of his love, not of brutality, and each bruise was a testament to the passion they had shared. It was completely different to the vile expectations of the maids.

A small smile playing on her lips despite the blush that still coloured her cheeks. "Yes," she said softly, "I am quite alright."

The maids exchanged annoyed glances, their expressions a mix of frustration and disbelief. Their muttered disappointments were tuned out as Y/N focused on the lingering warmth from the night before.

She couldn't hear a single thing except her heart beating to the thought of her husband. She missed him already. Who would’ve thought she’d be swooning for him so soon?

She found herself yearning for his presence, the comfort of his touch, and the sound of his reassuring voice. The memory of his gentle kiss and tender words lingered in her mind yet again, making her heart flutter.

As the maids continued their work, Y/N hoped they would at least perform their duties well enough to cover up for their childish behaviour. She wanted to be ready to see Bucky, to greet him with the same warmth and affection he had shown her. Despite their rudeness, she resolved to focus on the positive, cherishing the newfound bond with her husband.

Bucky stood at the head of the table, his stern expression and commanding presence filling the room. He was reviewing the logistics of their journey home, his voice cold and decisive as he issued instructions to his knights. His trusted knight, Sam, was detailing the possible hotspots for bandits they might encounter along the way.

"We'll likely face trouble here," Sam said, pointing to a spot on the map. "We should send some of our best men ahead to clear the path."

"Agreed," Bucky responded, his tone unyielding. "Deploy the knights in advance. Ensure the path is secure before we proceed."

Sam nodded and continued outlining the plan. He paused, expecting Bucky to reconfirm, but noticed a change in his leader's face. The harsh lines softened, his eyes filled with a tender warmth, as he stared intently at something across the room. Before Sam could look or utter a word, Bucky turned and walked away with determination.

Sam followed Bucky's gaze and understood immediately. "Ah, that's why," he muttered to himself as he watched Bucky approach Y/N. The change in Bucky’s demeanour was striking. He moved with a grace and warmth that was at odds with his usual stern and imposing presence.

Bucky’s eyes softened as he took in the sight of Y/N. He admired her beauty with a gaze filled with awe and adoration. The way he looked at her was as if he was seeing a vision he had longed for, a rare and precious gem that had finally come into his life.

As he extended his hand toward her, a gesture usually seen as etiquette but now entirely with different meaning, especially with the hearts bursting our of his blue eyes. Y/N’s face lighting up with a shy smile, took his hand; almost too eagerly. Bucky's fingers closed gently around hers, his touch tender and reassuring. The contrast between his usual, fearsome reputation and the gentle way he interacted with her was profound, making it clear that his feelings for Y/N were deeply genuine.

Bucky kissed the back of her hand, his lips softly caressing her knuckles. "My dear," he greeted her, using the endearment he had chosen when they first met at the altar.

The scene seemed like it was pulled raw from a romance novel that the surrounding staff and knights simply watched in shock and awe. "Did he just..." one knight whispered, eyes wide. "Called her 'my dear'?" another finished, equally stunned.

Sam, who had witnessed firsthand the monstrous side of Bucky in war, found himself in a state of utter disbelief, jaw dropped loose. He had seen Bucky’s sword painted blood-red, his face splattered with the gore of countless enemies. The Winter Soldier was a force of nature on the battlefield, his brutal efficiency leaving a trail of carnage in his wake. Sam recalled the sight of Bucky’s cold, unyielding eyes as he cut through foes without hesitation, his armor and weaponry gleaming with the blood of those who dared oppose him.

And yet, here he was, the same man who had struck terror into the hearts of many, now standing before Y/N with a tenderness that seemed unimaginable. Sam could hardly believe his eyes. The disparity was pronounced and bewildering. Bucky’s expression was soft, his movements gentle as he held Y/N’s hand in his.

“I’ve missed you,” Y/N said softly, her eyes shining with affection. She truly did, it would be a lie that she didn’t felt the ache in her heart when she woke up alone that morning. The emptiness beside her had felt profound. The bed still carried his scent, a lingering warmth that whispered of his recent presence. Even though the separation had been brief, as evidenced by the thoughtful note and the bouquet of her favourite flowers he had left behind, the loneliness she felt was palpable. His absence, however fleeting, had created a void that left her feeling incomplete.

Bucky’s heart seemed to burst with emotion. He couldn't care less about the gawking staff surrounding them as he pulled her close and kissed her deeply. She initially froze, caught off guard and embarrassed, but soon melted into his kiss with a blossoming confidence.

As their lips met, memories of their tender and passionate night together surged through Bucky's mind. The way she moan his name, the taste of her cum, the tightness of her pussy gripping on his cock, the way his cum leaked out of her, every single sinful scene replayed in head; infinitely. The intensity of the moment was overwhelming, and he found himself nearly losing control. Reluctantly, he pulled back from the kiss, his breath uneven and his gaze filled with an unspoken hunger.

"God, what should I do with you, hmm, sweetheart?" Bucky whispered, his voice laced with seduction as he continued to place gentle kisses along her cheeks and jaw. His lips brushed softly against her skin, whispering how much he had missed her and expressing a wistful desire to stay wrapped in the warmth of their shared bed just a little longer.

Y/N’s soft giggle rang out as she felt the roughness of his stubble against her delicate skin. The sound was like music to Bucky's ears, brightening his mood and filling him with a profound sense of joy. Despite the joyful exchange, he reluctantly ended the sweet torment, his kisses lingering just a moment longer before he pulled away.

“We should be ready to begin our journey shortly,” Bucky said, his tone shifting to a more practical note when e turned to Sam, who had approached during their moment of intimacy.

“Y/N, this is Sam Wilson, he is one of my trusted knights.” Bucky introduced, his gaze shifting to his wife. Sam gave a respectful nod to Y/N, a hint of surprise still evident in his expression from witnessing Bucky's affectionate display. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lady Y/N.”

Y/N smiled warmly at Sam, appreciating the introduction. “The pleasure is mine, Sir Wilson.”

Sam, sensing that the formality was unnecessary given their imminent interactions, decided to ease the situation. “Just Sam, my lady,” he said with a friendly tone. Y/N repeated his name with a touch of amusement. “Well, it’s nice to meet you, Sam.”

Bucky, observing the growing camaraderie between his wife and his trusted knight, couldn’t help but feel a twinge of protectiveness. The easy familiarity between them seemed a bit too casual for his liking. His eyes narrowed slightly as he gave Sam a warning look. “Watch it, Wilson.”

Sam, not missing a beat, chuckled at Bucky’s protective demeanour. “What’s the matter, my lord? Can’t handle a bit of friendly conversation?”

Y/N, noticing the playful tension and Bucky’s slight irritation, couldn’t help but laugh. The contrast between Bucky’s usually soft demeanour that Y/N had witnessed and his current protective stance were both endearing and amusing. Her laughter lightened the mood, making Sam’s teasing even more enjoyable.

Bucky's stern gaze softened as he watched Y/N’s laughter, though his protective instinct remained palpable. Steering the conversion back to the preparations, he allowed a faint smile to tug at the corners of his mouth despite his earlier warning.

“I trust you can escort my wife to the carriage,” Bucky said, his voice serious but tinged with a hint of a smile. “However, I expect you to maintain proper distance and adhere to these additional guidelines.” He paused, ensuring his words were clear. “No unnecessary physical contact or overly familiar behaviour. And if you could, avoid any casual conversations that might be misinterpreted.”

Sam looked at Bucky in disbelief, shaking his head with a bemused expression. “Seriously, Barnes? You’re laying down rules for me to keep my distance from your wife now?”

Bucky’s eyes narrowed playfully. “Consider it a precaution. I’d rather not have any misunderstandings.” Sam chuckled, rolling his eyes as he complied. “Understood. I’ll make sure to follow your... guidelines.”

Y/N watched the exchange with amusement, her earlier shyness melting away into a warm appreciation for Bucky’s protectiveness. The scene, tinged with a touch of comedy, only deepened the connection between them.

Bucky, intent on making a point to Sam while expressing his affection, pulled Y/N close and pressed a tender kiss to her forehead. The gesture was both intimate and deliberate, a subtle yet clear indication to Sam that she belongs to Bucky. “I’ll join you shortly, my dear,” Bucky said softly, his voice filled with warmth as he gazed into her eyes.

Sam, unimpressed by Bucky’s display, rolled his eyes at the seemingly childish antics. “This way, my lady,” he said with a hint of impatience. Y/N nodded in agreement but paused before turning her back on Bucky. With a loving smile, she whispered, “I’ll see you later,” before following Sam.

Bucky watched as Sam guided Y/N away, his gaze lingered with a mix of affection and something much deeper; an unspoken sadness. As their silhouettes walked further and further away from his sight, a sombre glaze settled over his eyes.

Beneath the surface of his composed exterior, his heart ached; the was a silent reflection of a pain he had hidden deep within his heart. It was a lingering sorrow that had shadowed him ever since he stood at the altar, the weight of unvoiced grief clinging to him as he gazed at his future bride.

Part II >>

Read my other works here: Masterlist

A/N: Wondering why he was in the feels at the end? We’ll know it soon enough. I’ll see you in the next parts! Thank you for reading!

#bucky barnes au #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky fluff #bucky smut #bucky angst #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes angst #winter soldier!bucky #medieval!bucky #duke!bucky #grumpy!bucky #soft!bucky

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tremendouscreationperson · 2 months

Text

Logan x Reader pt.1

Again spoilers for Deadpool and Wolverine

Many of y'all liked my little DP/W idea so here is more, I tried to keep it GN so there isn't smut but it does sorta allude to it

Part 2 >> Masterlist

Wade has just woke up, he yet again sees Logan drinking and asks 'where they are and how they got here'. Logan vaguely points to the door and three people walk through. It's Elektra, Blade and Gambit. There are some not-so-pleasantries and eventually Laura makes herself known.

"We're missing Johnny and Y/N." Gambit drawls.

Wade makes a joke and turns back to Logan who looks like he's shat himself. "Peanut?"

"You said Y/N?" Logan settles his drink onto the first available surface and runs a hand through his hair. "We saw Johnny but not Y/N."

Later on he had slumped down and made a fire. He didn't want to be part of the heroics, he couldn't be. He wasn't worth it. Laura had tried to convince him in her unique way. He could see himself in her, see why he'd fight for her.

Logan took another swig and stared off into the treeline. It was unclear how long he just sat but eventually he noticed movement.

Wolverine stood, ready to protect the others. Why was he ready to protect the others?

Then he saw you.

You were wide eyed. Your suit was practically undamaged except for a little cut on your thigh. Not a hair out of place. There was dirt on your face and body but you were beautiful.

"Y/N." He involuntarily took a step towards you.

You stayed completely still. Wary. Why were you wary of him? “Logan.” Your voice was barely above a whisper but he heard it. Would always hear you. You were the main voice rattling around his adamantium skull.

“Y/N.” He took another step forward and tried to erase his frown, tried to ease his expression into something you wouldn't be wary of. “I'm not going to hurt you.”

Your eyes scanned him and the trees behind before you gave a nod and slowly approached, favouring your right leg.

“It's been a while.” The fire light bounced gloriously off your skin, illuminating your very being as though you were an angel. Well you were. You were perfect. Are perfect.

“For me as well.” He nodded too enthusiastically, too eager to be speaking to you. He didn't deserve this.

You lowered yourself onto a patch of grass, crossing your legs to the best of your ability, pupils glued to the flames. They danced along and lit up your eyes. Surely, you couldn't be more beautiful. Logan hadn't even realised but he had sat himself back down on his perch across from you. “I’m sorry.”

He couldn't help it, his frown was back in full force. What could you possibly have to apologise for? “I don-”

“You're not the first Wolverine to come sniffing me out.” You explained. “There's been others and they've- they've not all been friendly.”

What the fuck had he done? “I swear, I am not here to hurt you.” He placed a hand over his heart. “I promise.”

“I know. I just- it's not often you see your husband's-” Husband? “- face and he doesn't know you or is feral or-” You took a deep breath, finally meeting his gaze. “You at least recognise me.”

“Of course I do.”

“Okay, that's good.” You nod mostly to yourself before asking, “what happened in your world?”

“My world?”

You nod again.

“We're X-Men. I'm shitty. You're perfect. Scott nags me. Storm married a king and moved away, visits every so often. Jean was in the process of taking over from Charles…” If he didn't tell you they all died, maybe they didn't. Maybe they could live in your head. Maybe he wasn't a monster. “Yours?”

“Much the same really.” One shoulder lifted in a half shrug. “‘cept you weren't shitty. You were just you. Sabertooth was the shitty Howlett.”

Logan chuckled at that.

“Did you have a Laura? Or a Gabby?”

He shook his head. “Uh, no. But I've met Laura. She's nice. Fierce.”

“She's your DNA spliced with some poor unfortunate ladies. Essentially your offspring.” You informed. “Gabby is a clone of a clone. She's lovely though. Friends with Wa-Deadpool.”

“He's here.” Logan scratched his chin. “He's the reason I am.”

“Oh, you're friends as well?”

“God, no.” He shook his head. “Kinda just thrust together.”

“He always wanted to hang with you but usually just ended up with Spidey.”

Logan had heard of Spidey -Spiderman- but he hadn't met the guy, yet. If he hung out with Wade he was probably just as mad.

You both fell into a fairly comfortable silence but he didn't like that. You were here. He could actually talk to you. Actually be around you. “What happened to your leg?” He motioned to it as you carefully repositioned yourself.

“Angel.” You whispered darkly.

“Warren?”

“Yeah. Sometimes your friends aren't your friends. He had metal wings and weird tattoos. I called out to him and he just attacked. He was so quick I couldn't put up a forcefield in time.”

“I'm sorry.” It was a lame response but he had nothing else. You merely sat there, watching him, scanning his reactions. “I don't know how to convince you I am your friend. But I am. I won't harm you.”

You gave him a small lopsided smile. And he remembered.

“Wait. I do know how.” Logan rummaged around his very tiny suit pockets. He knew it was somewhere. He made sure it was always on him. Hidden away where no one would find it. Tucked into a sleeve that he kept safe by his ankle, usually people hit his torso, they don't always go for feet so he felt secure in it's position. Well, he did until he fought Wade in that fucking Honda.

Logan found it. It was scrappy and definitely worse for wear but the picture was clear. He stood and slowly walked around the fire to your side. You didn't back away but he caught your involuntary shoulder flinch.

“Here.”

You delicately took the piece of paper from his hands. It felt glossy, like magazine print. It was folded and on the visible side was a photo of you smiling wide, proud, in front of the X mansion. You unfolded it to see Logan standing next to you with a barely-there smirk. He looked almost bored but you knew him. Knew he was smiling, it was in his eyes, the softness in his face.

You were confused because he was smiling yet it was clear that he folded it to hide himself.

“Why have you folded it like that?”

Because I look awful. Because you are perfect and happy and brilliant and I pretended I didn't want the photo. Because it's the only faculty photo of me they ever took. Because they all knew I was sweet on you when you stopped me for a photo and I agreed. Because I had to take this from a yearbook after the school was raided. Because it's the only photo of us that I have and I hate that I'm in it. “Easier to fit the little pocket.”

“I have a similar one.” You confessed, knowing he was lying but that's okay. You all had secrets. “It's with my other bits, in the base.”

He felt his cheeks warm so looked away to the base. “Speaking of, it's late and you're hurt. They were planning on leaving at sun up, but I'm not sure that's still happening.”

“Why are we leaving?”

“We're storming Cassandra Nova’s lair.”

You let out a full body laugh. The noise was heavenly. “Fuck off, you come here and suddenly talk them into a full frontal assault? Brilliant.”

He rolled his eyes at you but extended a hand. “Come on, bub, let's get you updated and checked out.”

It wasn't much really, not to a bystander, but you actually accepting his hand meant the world to him and you. Both for similar and completely different reasons.

He definitely didn't need to but insisted on helping you to the base. It was hardly worth it but being back in his arms was lovely. It felt like home. He was maybe a few inches taller and definitely a little older looking than you recalled but he was your Logan. And a helpful one. He wasn't chasing you like a wild dog because you smelt nice. He was helping you limp back.

“Y/N.” Elektra spoke as soon as you entered the threshold.

“El.” You smiled widely.

She gave you a subtle look - raising her eyebrows a fraction and flickering her eyes at Logan - before taking your hand and leading you out of his arms. “We were worried.”

“You shouldn't have worried.” Rolling your eyes. “You know me.”

“That is why I was worried.”

She gave you a quick hug and assessed your leg. You had known her for five years. She had been here longer than you, travelling with Blade, and quickly intervened when she saw a Ghost Rider trying to lasso you. You three had met Johnny, who had been here a while too, and eventually met Laura. She was the only familiar face to you, it was a breath of fresh air to see her. It was a shame she didn't know you but you explained who you were and where she was and she slowly came around to trusting you. Gambit was the newest addition to your ragtag gang. He, bless him, tried to be as useful as possible and you're sure he was but there were times when you had no idea what went on in his mind. He was his own enigma.

The cut wasn't awful, a fact you had said multiple times, but Elektra still insisted on using alcohol to clean and one of the rags you recycled from an old duvet to wrap it, explaining the idiotic plan that you were all taking part of as she went.

“Oh!” Wade loudly exclaimed as Elektra tightened the makeshift bandage. “The self insert! I can't believe it, the movie’s been out like three days!”

You exchanged a glance with El and gave him an odd look as you greeted the man. “Hiya Wade.”

“Y/N.” He bowed. “I'm a little star struck.”

“Why?” Elektra stood to her full height and quickly made an exit, this wasn't the first Deadpool she had seen but this was one of the high energy ones.

“Well, you're Logan's thing.” The man behind perked up, his shoulders tense. He had been watching you the whole time and clearly wasn't a fan of DP rambling. “You're his reason to keep on. One of the reasons my Logan saved Laura. To keep his promise to you or something like that, I don't know the writing is a bit clunky.”

“Right.” You nodded, not quite understanding. But it was funny to see the mortified expression Logan was wearing. “So I'm Logan's ‘thing’.”

“Well, duh-”

“Will you shut the fuck up?” Logan ordered.

“Gosh, was he always this snappy?” Wade chirped.

“I dunno, Lo always had a soft spot for me so..”

“Awwwww.” He clasped his hands and held them at his heart. “Did you hear that she said ‘Lo’?” Wade had just turned to see the man in question but Wolverine was behind him and quickly dragging the Merc away, not quite whispering another ‘shut your fucking mouth’.

Blade, who was one to skulk hidden in corners before making himself known, had watched the interaction and gave you a fright as he stepped from the shadows. “So that's him, huh?”

“Jesus!” You whisper-yelled. “How many times have I asked you to not do that?”

“Daywalker, can't help it.” He shrugged and sat next to you on the sofa. It was old and ugly but so so comfortable.

You gave a sigh, holding your hammering heart. “Yes. He's Logan. A version of him. That actually doesn't wanna kill me.”

“Maybe you should let it play out.”

“And maybe I shouldn't.” You counter. “We'll all be dead tomorrow anyway.”

“All the more reason to."

He was correct of course. You had missed Logan so much and this one clearly had missed you. It would be folly to not spend the last night you may be alive together. In whatever way you were both comfortable with. But you didnt want to give him the satisfaction of being right, so merely huffed in response.

"Elektra told you the plan?”

“Well, Laura hardly speaks and I can't understand Gambit.”

Blade let out a low laugh. He was one of the coolest people you'd ever met, even his chuckle was cool. You were so envious.

Logan came back with red cheeks and quickly apologised. “I'm sorry, he talks so much and I don't think he actually hears himself.”

You waved him off. “It's fine.”

“No, he embarrassed you.” Logan sighed, his jaw set like he was biting the inside of his cheek.

“Logan, really. Don't worry.” You could see that he wasn't going to 'not worry' so decided to just remove yourself from the situation. Clapping Blade’s leg you stood. “Right, bed time. Big day tomorrow.”

“You aren't coming.” Logan replied immediately.

“Uhm. Pretty sure I am.”

“No, you're injured.” He stated as though that was obvious.

“This is literally the smallest injury I've had out here.”

“But you are hurt.”

“Logan.”

“Y/N.”

Blade watched the back and forth with a smirk, you were both clearly a married couple.

“I think you two should take this to Y/N’s room.” Your eyes widened dramatically. “You can argue all night when the door is shut and no one else can hear you.” The sly bastard.

“Okay.” Logan agreed. “I'll convince you to stay, where's your room?”

You let out a few noises, dying arguments, and then the biggest sigh. “Fuck my life. This way.”

The base was an old temple. You had wondered who it belonged to. The statues of her were beautiful. You had yet to see a variant of whoever this was, maybe that was a good thing. She might not take lightly to you guys using her sacred temple as a hotel. There were a few corridors you had to walk down to get to your room. You'd dragged an old mattress into it and made sure to keep the room dust free. There weren't a lot of luxuries in this world but you had an orb that when touched lit up delicately. There were a few sets of clothes you'd scavenged so you kept yourself clean and had a set of ‘pjs’. Your room was covered in marks where you had flung a knife or practised a forcefield. He assumed there weren't that many guns here, or if there were ammo was rare.

“You can't fight.” Logan started.

Oh. You were actually going to argue. “Logan, I could fight you right now.”

“Go on then.” He called your bluff.

You gave him a playful smirk. “You really wanna fight? It could be our last day alive and you wanna spend it fighting?”

“I know you can't fight with that leg.” He was so sure of himself. You couldn't wait to prove him wrong.

With a twitch of your hand you flung him towards you with a forcefield, side stepping out of his way. It took him by surprise how strong you had gotten and he had to catch himself before he hit the wall.

Logan twisted around to find you at his throat with a small blade in your hand. Your chest pressed into his, causing his back to hit the wall. “That was over pretty quick, Lo.”

Logan was in awe of your swift moves. You were tenfold who he knew. God could you get more attractive? He felt himself get warm and not from embarrassment. You were making him hot, you holding a knife to his throat was making him horny. What did that say about him?

Your eyebrows pinched minutely as you observed him swallow. “You like this, don't you?”

Was there a point in lying? “Maybe.”

“Well... Maybe I do, too.”

God he was ruined.

You were literally amazing.

How could he be so lucky? He really didn't deserve this.

Logan glanced down to your lips and you smirked. "Go on." He didn't need any other invitations. He captured your lips and kissed you with the full force of his years of loneliness.

He loved you, by god, he did.

Logan's left hand found your nape whilst his right landed on your ass. He growled as you pushed into him a fraction more.

Your leg moved by itself, wrapping around his waist as you took advantage of his growl. Kissing the exposed areas of his neck. You'd missed this. You'd missed him.

Logan hoisted you the rest of the way up and gazed into your eyes. You were looking down at him, lips plump and cheeks hot, you panted a little and fuck. He was going to fuck you. He wasn't sure he could actually pull himself away from you. You both should be sleeping, preparing for the fight tomorrow. No, you shouldn't be fighting. You should be safe. Somewhere safe and warm, waiting for him to return.

"Come with me." He begged.

"I'm sure I will." You winked.

"No, tomorrow, after the fight. Come with me, wherever I end up." He didn't want to go back but he would if you followed. If you came with him he could do it. Go anywhere. Be anyone.

"So you agree I'm fighting fit." You pecked his nose, playfully.

He huffed but found your lips again, leading you both to the mattress you called a bed.

He'd buy you a bed, a grand one. One worthy of you. He hated that you only had this. He needed to provide for you. Keep you warm, safe, loved, full. Keep you.

Logan was going to keep you and he didn't care how.

Part 2

#logan howlett #logan 2017 #logan x reader #logan #james logan howlett #james howlett #wolverine #wolverine x reader #xmen #mutant!reader #deadpool and wolverine #deadpool #deadpool 3

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calypsocolada · 3 months

Text

MISO SOUP AND SWEET POTATOES | g. tomioka

(click here for part two!)

synopsis: you're tasked with convinicing Giyu to join the Hashira Training author's note: hello. this was a days worth of writing. from 11 am to 3 am. i even wrote parts in my notepad at work. i really like how this turned out. i finished the hashira training arc last night and think that final episode might've been the best episode of anime i have actually ever seen. this is a whole ass story cw: slightly suggestive, major spoilers for rengoku and the hashira training arc, character death, gore, ANGST, fluff, happy ending, not proofread, fem reader, use of y/n a lil, lover!giyu, hardheaded!reader wc: 6.3k

click here for my masterlist

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“Would you mind talking to Giyu for me? So that Giyu, who tends to put himself into a negative frame of mind can start looking ahead again. Will you be persistent in your efforts to speak with him?”

You stared at the letter. You reread it again and again and again. Your body still aches from the previous fight in the swordsmith village and you sort of hoped this was a hallucination. That you were still unconscious. But as your crow beside you squawked and you jumped you knew it was real. The paper crinkled beneath your hands. Kagaya’s handwriting is flawless and script. You followed the trail of his pen again.

Would you mind speaking to Giyu for me?

You wondered if maybe this letter was accidentally sent to you. Even as your eyes wandered back up to the top of the paper that clearly said ‘Dear Y/n’. Even if it didn’t say your name there were no accidents with Kagaya.

But… but there had to be. Out of everyone, all the Hashira that were certainly closer to Giyu. But you, the newest Hashira, had been chosen to speak with him? In what world did that make any sense? You barely knew the guy. Granted he had been the reason you joined the corp originally but he’d dodged your very presence the best he could ever since.

Your village had been attacked about four years ago. Same old story for a lot of people victimized by demons. There was never a happy ending with those monsters involved. Always blood. Always loss. It was no different for you. Half of your family was slaughtered before you could even rouse yourself from sleep. But when you did all you saw was the inkblots of blood on your white walls, the color shining from being hit by the moonlight. You remembered sitting up and feeling numb as you heard someone screaming. The scream that never left you. Something you’d never be able to ingest for as long as you lived.

When you got to your feet your mother had busted into your room. She looked pale, blood gushing from beneath her white nightgown. She scooped you up and kissed your head as she stuffed you into the closet. She shushed your cry’s and told you not to come out until the sun shone beneath the crack in the door. She gave you one last kiss. You didn’t know then it was the last. You reached for her but she pushed your hands back, silently shook her head then pressed the door closed.

You’d always been a good kid. You stayed put exactly as you’d been told. Even as you heard more screams. Even as it went quiet.

Only until that sun shone beneath your door did you move. You busted out of that closet. Your mother’s name is the first thing on your lips but she wasn’t the first person you saw. The scene in your house was horrific to say the least. The sights of the people you loved in multiple torn pieces is something that comes back to you in flashes when you fight demons.

It spurs you on to do exactly what they did to your family back to them. To tear them to shreds.

In the middle of it all was a boy. He was sitting so still that you didn’t even notice him amongst the slaughter. Your living room was still dark, dark enough that it kept this monster safe as it rose to its full height. No longer a boy but a creature from your deepest darkest nightmares. It had your family’s blood on its mouth as it smiled a wickedly devilish smile.

“Hmm. Missed one.” It spoke in a gravelly tone as it swallowed whatever it was chewing on. You could guess what. You stepped back into your mother’s blood… or maybe your father’s? The blood, thick beneath your foot slid out from underneath you and you crashed into their bodies, something sharp sticking into your side as you gasped in sudden pain. Your mother’s hand still gripped a knife that had now lodged itself in your thigh. The demon only laughed. “Clumsy one aren’t you. Mother wasted her time hiding something so useless.” He growled, approaching with a predatory gleam in his dark eyes.

When he pounced towards you something momentary took hold over you. You, a measly twelve years old, ripped that knife from your own leg and thrusted it into the demon's eye. The creature roared like nothing you’d heard before as it stumbled back away from you. You just blinked as you watched it, numbness contending with your fear. The creature yanked the knife out and tossed it angrily to the side. It growled, fuming as it charged back at you. You raised your hands to defend yourself, screwing your eyes shut. You heard the whoosh of something cutting through the air itself and when you opened your eyes the creature had halted its assault. It locked eyes with you moments before its head toppled right off its shoulder. You stared in abject horror as the creature's body started to burn a blood red color and you saw a figure behind it. You were as still as a statue as the figure behind it took shape.

The shape of a boy, he couldn’t have been much older than you. Eyes an indigo blue, dark and almost unfeeling as they met yours. You watched as he gave a quick swipe of his sword to rid it of the demons burning blood as he sheathed it back at his side.

“Are you hurt?” He asked, his voice young like yours. You weren’t hurt. Somehow. And you couldn’t open your mouth to answer him, not with your body still on top of your parents. You just stared at him, even as your eyesight got cloudy and stinging tears slid down your cheeks.

The boy walked towards you and remained still, unable to move as he bent down in front of you. He reached and clumsily brushed the tears from your face. It was as if he knew you wouldn’t part your lips to speak because wordlessly he, with immaculate ease, picked you up off the corpses and carried you out of the house. You moved for the first time in minutes as your head tilted to look back towards your family.

“Eyes on me.” He said and sure enough your eyes snapped to him. To take in his face. Eyes endlessly dark blue as they stared forwards. He had to have been your age, maybe a year older. He had the shape of a young face, with full cheeks and raven black hair to the nape of his neck. You couldn’t look away, it had nothing to do with his looks but everything to do with his command.

You were a good kid. When someone told you to do something you did it. Years later you would come to thank Giyu for that, for commanding you to look at him instead of glancing back at what remained of your family.

Everything after that was just sort of a blur. You stayed some place warm, a faint fire flickering and that boy with the sword stayed with you until some men in black uniforms found you. You remember not being able to walk, the shock and grief of the night not letting you. You’d held onto your saviors shirt, your fist balled. He let you, in fact he even came along with you and the men in black and when they asked you to let go you blinked at them. You hadn’t even noticed you were still holding on. You let go in an instant. Your hand is sore from how tightly you’d been clenching. The men in black’s hands were on your shoulders guiding you away and when you looked back your voice came to you.

“What’s your name?” You asked, everything paused for you so you could hear his answer.

“Giyu.” He answered. You put a name to his face. You parted your lips to thank him but nothing came out again. You couldn’t say thanks. Not when you were the only breathing because you cowardly hid in the closet. You felt you didn’t deserve to be thankful. You met his eyes again and something, somehow, told you he understood. He gave you the softest nod of his head and when he turned to leave you felt your heart drop. Like something had bonded you to this boy. But you turned and let yourself be whisked away.

A year later you worked for the very same people as Giyu had. You were given a sword and trained thoroughly by a man with red and orange hair. You weren’t ever good with names but the fire in him fueled the fire in you. Which is why you eagerly learned that breathing style and trudged up that mountain to crush the selection test.

A few years after that you ran into Giyu. You were sent on a mission to help the Water Hashira. You’d never met any other Hashira besides Rengoku so you were sort of apprehensive. You never liked meeting new people. All those years spent with Rengoku and his fiery personality you wished at least some of it had rubbed off on you but… you were still demure and quiet, quick to anger and prone to disappearing. You liked your alone time. You had all but begged Rengoku to let you go with him in his mission, apparently some demon had infested a train, that sounded far more exhilarating than helping some water Hashira you didn’t know. Rengoku did what he always did when you were disappointed. He gave you a sort of unwanted hug, though secretly you wanted and needed it, and ruffled your hair.

“We’ll see each other in two weeks. Next mission is yours and mine.” He said and then he was gone and you were boarding a train going the opposite way.

When you arrived, stepping off the train your eyes met the same indigo blue eyes from so many years ago. When you were both kids. Now both adults. You stopped where you stood, unable to walk any closer as everything fled back. Stuff you had managed to keep down deep for so many years. Memories you wanted to erase. All that time wasted and drudged back up in mere seconds. Giyu may have had those same eyes but he was grown now. His hair longer and tied back, his face had lost that boyish roundness. He looked tall and lean. Well at least taller than you. For a moment he looked just as surprised as you but he smoothed over that emotion into something practiced.

“It’s you.” He said, his voice deep and soft. You swallowed, your hand resting on your sword.

“You’re the water Hashira?” You asked and he nodded his head as the train behind you dinged and slowly pulled out of the stop, the wind brushing your hair over your shoulders.

“You’re Rengoku’s tsuguko?” At that you nodded your head back at him. His eyes trailed to your sword, to your haori, and old one Rengoku had lent you. His eyes lingered on that fiery pattern.

“I never learned your name.” He said and then his eyes flicked to yours. You swallowed dryly, you weren’t sure why he made you so nervous, why your heart was beating so fast. You wondered if he was a part of a life you wanted to die off. The scared girl in the closet was far from who you were now. Rengoku never got to meet that scared girl. No one had. Except Giyu. You told him your name and he repeated it, as if feeling how it felt on his own lips. Your heart skipped a traitorous beat at the way he spoke your name. It felt different coming from him. You grabbed ahold of yourself.

“Shall we?”

But your mission with Giyu was cut off with the sudden death of Rengoku. You and Giyu hadn’t made it back to the village before both of your crows had delivered the news. You still remembered everything about that moment. Giyu walking beside you, your haori catching a gust of wind, cold wind, as if winter was coming. You could replay your footsteps on the dirt road. The distant flapping of wings growing closer and closer and then stopping as they landed. Your initial glance over at the water Hashira before the delivering of the news. The ripple before the crack in your soul. Giyu had been present for the worst two days of your life. Something about losing someone again that felt like family irrevocably broke something in you all over again. This pain you felt before today you wondered for years if it would last. Rengoku had healed some of it. And begrudgingly and foolishly you let him in. But now you have your answer. This pain would last forever. You couldn’t even cry, you just stared blankly ahead, just as you had in your dark house wrecked with the stench of blood.

You felt a hand on your shoulder, you didn’t want to look at him.

“Go, I’ll finish the mission.” He said, his voice different, there was a coldness before but now only warmth. You still didn’t look at him as you turned to leave.

“Be careful.” You choked out before taking off in a run back towards the train station.

You’d seen Giyu a few times after that but only in passing, never long enough to start up a proper conversation though both of you hated talking. You never let anyone else in after that. You took up the position of Fire Hashira and the only thing fiery about you was your utter hatred for demons. The other Hashira were sort of weary of you and that kept them at a distance. You only talked when absolutely needed and was the first to leave after Hashira meetings. You liked that distance. You’d do anything to keep it. There was only so much heartbreak and loss you could take. You were at your limit. You didn’t have room for anyone in your scabbard dying heart.

That’s why receiving that letter from Kagaya had caught you so off guard. He of all people knew who you were and still he asked you for a favor. Probably a dying wish. He had shown you kindness and since it was the only thing he’d ever asked you for, reluctantly, you found yourself at the front of Giyu’s home. It was cold out as your knuckles rapped against the wooden door. You waited, stepped back and looked off to the side, expecting to see Kagaya’s crow lingering around somewhere to report back to him. A minute had passed as you gave one more series of knocks. Nothing. Maybe he wasn’t home. You sighed and turned to leave just as the wooden door clicked and was pulled open. When you turned back those striking blue eyes met yours. There was skepticism on his face as you swallowed. That feeling that met you every time you saw Giyu never seemed to fade. That persistent speeding of your heart. That faltering of words. All highly inconvenient.

“Y/n?” Giyu spoke first, pulling the door open just a tad more. He was in casual clothing, he looked as though he may have just woken up.

“Giyu. I never knew you lived in this part of town.” You lied. You knew.

“It’s quiet.”

“I can see.” The lack of noise was slightly unsettling, only the rustling of leaves in the wind could be heard. You swallowed. “May I come in?” Your voice was slightly strained and didn’t at all sound like you wanted to do that but to your detriment Giyu moved to the side. Giyu’s home was a reflection of himself. It was clean, almost sterile, with dark walnut furnishings and dark curtains. He really must’ve been sleeping because he reaches over and flicks on a few lanterns, casting an orange glow to his living room.

“I wasn’t expecting company,” He says over his shoulder and you almost agree.

“Unwanted?” You ask and when he shakes his head ‘no’ you relax sort of.

“I’ll make us some food. Did you travel long?” He asks as he leads you towards the kitchen. You take a seat at the kitchen island and watch him get to work.

“Yeah. Long train ride.” You answer as Giyu nods his head. You know he’s probably dying to know why you’re here but you're sure if you told him things would turn sour. You watched Giyu gather ingredients and supplies, he was very orderly about things, kept things nice and clean as he prepared dinner for you both. You had a lot of experience cooking growing up with Rengoku, that man could eat and eat. Just at the thought you felt a pang and forced your face not to show it.

“Do you need help?”

“That’s alright, you rest.” Giyu intones, setting a cup in front of you as he fills it with hot black tea. You thank him, wrapping your hands around the warm mug. You stare down into the tea for a moment and realize you had no idea how to go about this little favor Kagaya had asked of you. You barely spoke with anyone, you were well out of practice. How genuine would this ask even be coming from you?

“How’re you?” You asked, not letting yourself be embarrassed by your lack of social skills. Giyu flicks on the stove.

“Do you really want to know?” He asked over his shoulder and stupidly, because he wasn’t even looking at you, you nodded your head before clearing your throat and speaking.

“I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t.” You hoped that didn’t come out as sharp as it sounded.

“I’m… well. Thank you for asking.” Giyu answered, his monotone answer at war with the words he spoke. He sounded anything but well. You remembered the last Hashira meeting. You remembered Giyu’s back turned as he said, “I’m not like the rest of you.” Unlike Sanemi you didn’t feel angry at that. In fact you knew how that felt. To feel unwelcomed and wanting it to stay that way.

“If you’re well then I’m well.” You said and when Giyu turned, his eyes meeting yours, you felt a flash of how you saw him that first time. You blinked it away as he turned back.

“I didn’t think… you of all the Hashira’s would be the first to visit.” Giyu said, turning back to the stove. You stared at the back of his head.

“Me neither.” You said with a soft sigh. “But here I am.”

“Here you are.” He says, his voice soft again. It did funny things to you. Funny things that only he could elicit. It was frustrating.

“Giyu…” You trailed off, unsure how to broach the subject. “Did something happen? To make you not want to help out with the Hashira training?” Giyu was quiet for a long moment. You watched him stir some stuff into the pan and for a moment you thought he hadn’t heard you.

“Can we not… talk about that?” He asks almost kindly. But that’s all you needed to talk about. If you didn’t stay on topic you’d be doing Kagaya a disservice, though could you count that as a hardy first try?

“Of course.” You answered, fiddling with your hands. You’d left your sword back at the inn you were staying at and wished you’d had it just so you could fiddle with something else. “Though, I apologize but, I almost wish I could sit it out too.”

“Why’s that?”

“Training a bunch of snot nosed kids sounds like hell to me.” You spoke truthfully and watched Giyu;s shoulders rise and fall quickly, almost like he was maybe laughing, but he still wasn't facing you so you wouldn’t know.

“Not a fan?”

“I had my fill with the three from the swordsmith village.” Tanjiro, his little demon sister, Nezuko and Sanemi’s little brother Genya. All a handful. But very capable in a fight.

“How’re your wounds? I… never got to ask.” Giyu says as he reaches for some seasoning, finally turning to the side to face you.

“Scarring up.” You said and Giyu nodded his head, his eyes drifting to the scar on your cheek.

“Two upper ranks. If anyone could handle them I knew it’d be you.” He says with a sort of gleam in his eye.

“Can’t take the credit. That red head kid killed one of ‘em while MItsuri and I held off its body. Muichiro took one by himself.” You recounted, the fight honestly felt like it would never end.

“You and Kanroji worked together?”

“Surprising, right?”

“Not at all.” Giyu answers. “You two are very alike.”

“In what way?” You almost laughed at that statement.

“Strong, fierce, never quit.”

“I think we all have that in common.” You say and Giyu gets this look in his eyes as he turns back away. You feel as though you lost some ground. You chew the inside of your lip. Clearly Giyu doesn’t feel as though he had that in common with you. Something ignited in you. A need to say something on your mind. “Giyu… I-- I never thanked you.”

“Thanked me?”

“I’ve… wrestled with it for a long time. How to… go about it. Kyojuro used to tell me to practice with all the people we met. To thank them for stupid things, like holding the door open or bringing me food. Just so the words didn’t feel so foreign. But I never really felt thankful for you saving me. I lived because my whole family died. Because I hid.” You take in a shaky breath. You’d never talked about this stuff out loud, not even with Rengoku. You felt embarrassed suddenly, shaking your head, you forced out a choked laugh. “Nevermind. I don’t know what I’m saying.” You felt his eyes on you but you forced yourself to keep looking down at your warm tea. As long as you stayed like this maybe he’d move the conversation along to something else. You cursed yourself for ruining the mood, if there even was one to begin with.

“You don’t have to stop. I… I would like to know more about you. I… always have.” Your eyes shot to his like a gun hitting its mark. Those dark eyes, you could swim in them. Get lost in them. Those eyes… could make you feel something. That made you shoot to your feet, your tea spilling over. Giyu didn’t startle, he just turned to grab a rag but when he turned back you were halfway to the front door. He dropped the towel on the table. “W-wait, Y/N,” He called to you but when he rounded into the living room the front door slammed closed.

You fumbled outside, steps clumsy as you started to run and run. You didn’t want to think about it. You had to get away, as far as those legs of yours could take you. You could run to the next town over, retrieve your sword in the morning and never speak to the water hashira again. Never again. Favor be damned. What you felt was dangerous. That kind of thing left you the hollow husk you were today. You preferred this safe loneliness. You couldn’t ever be hurt again. You stopped for a moment, the cold air tough to run in as you huffed and puffed out condensation clouds.

“You’re fast.” You hadn’t even heard his approach. You didn’t turn, just swallowed.

“I- realized I have something to do in the morning. Can’t stay out late.”

“Come back, Y/n. Please.” His voice was doing that soft thing you body liked so much. You clenched your jaw, if you could stab your heart you would.

“Can’t.”

“Why? And… tell me the truth.” You heard him walk a bit closer. Please, you thought, just go back home.

“Maybe you’re right. What you said at the last meeting, that you’re not like us other Hashira. Maybe I just realized it.” You wanted to hurt him, it was a common defense you used quite often.

“And?”

“And I’m wasting my time speaking with someone who’d rather sit on the sidelines.” You spat over your shoulder. That’ll do it, you thought, that’ll get him to leave. It was quiet, heartbreakingly quiet and you were too much of a coward to see the hurt you caused so you started to walk away towards your inn.

“I… don’t care if you hate me.” You stopped walking instantly and turned, Giyu looked stricken, as if you slapped him. You regretted turning around. “You can hate me all you want. Yell at me, hit me, whatever you want to do. But I need you to know… you might regret me saving you but I have never regretted saving you…”

“Giyu,”

“Please… let me.” He straightened slightly. “I… am amazed by you.” His words hit you like the sharpest sting. Like a knife in the gut that slowly twists. “You’re incredible, nothing ever could rival you. You… lost so many yet you fight with purpose. I could never be like you.” You tense your jaw, eyes sharp.

“That’s where you’re wrong.” You take a step towards him. “I am hateful. I don’t have a purpose to fight anymore I just do it because it needs to be done. You don’t know me at all.”

“Maybe I don’t. But… I want to.”

“Why?”

“I’m not succinct.” Giyu sighs, as if tired. “I just do.” Want to know you. You stared at him and that traitorous heart of yours, that naive heart did another flip. You shook your head.

“You don’t. No one does.”

“Rengoku did.” Your eyes lit like fire, some heat filling your soul. You wanted to yell at him for saying his name. For bringing him into this. But you’d done it first.

“He’s dead. They all are. My whole family. I don’t want to know you. I don’t want you to know me. I want you to go back home and let me be.”

“I can’t.”

“Why?”

“Maybe for the same reason your eyes find mine every time we're in the same room.” Giyu took a step closer, you watched him move as though he was going to strike you down. LIke he was going for a killing blow.

“I… I don’t do that.” The lie was so obvious to your ears it almost made you cringe outwardly.

“I’m not trying to embarrass you because… I look for you in every room. I… I lied to you the second time we saw each other so many years ago I… I knew you were Rengoku’s tsuguko because he’d written to me. He… sensed something and told me he was sending you to me for that mission. I was so… so damn nervous to see you again after so many years. So curious about how you were faring and I couldn’t even get more than fifteen words out. And when Rengoku passed I would write Kagaya, ask him how you were because I was too much of a coward to ask you myself.” That’s why Kagaya wrote to you. Your heart still beat, skipped a beat then beat again. Everything was falling into place. Why Rengoku had sent you away when you had always gone on his missions with him. The scheming man was playing matchmaker. And even Kagaya was playing the same damn game.

“Don’t say anything else, Giyu. Please.”

“I won’t speak the rest of the night if you come back. You can even leave at first light. Just please… let me feed you and give you a place to sleep.”

“My inn isn’t too far.”

“Please.” The emotion in his voice was staggering. It was a plea. It had sounded like something he needed even more than breathing. You stared at him. If you went with him now that would be the very first crack in your walls. You never gave an inch away since Rengoku died and if you started now everything would crumble.

“No. I’m going back to my inn.”

“I’ll join the hashira training.” He said and your lips parted in silent surprise. “That’s why you came tonight wasn’t it? You’d never do it alone so Kagaya must’ve written to you? Am I right?” Your face must’ve given away the answer because Giyu continued and you realized right here and now this is the most you two have ever talked. An hour together had more dialogue than almost eight years. And this was why you kept your distance all these years. Because if anyone knew you it was Giyu, he’d seen you at your lowest yet here he was… begging you to stay for just a few hours. “Come back and I’ll join. You can consider your favor a success.”

“Why would you do that?”

“I’d do it for you.”

“Be serious.” You growled and Giyu took another step forward. You hadn’t noticed him getting so close but suddenly he was close enough to touch. You stepped back.

“Come back. Please.”

“You’re annoyingly persistent.”

“I just want you safe. That’s all.”

“You already saved me once. That’s enough.” You condemned with a shake of your head. Giyu looked doubtful for a moment, unsure of how to convince you to come back. But if you made good on Kaguya's favor this could be the end of it. “I’ll come back.” His eyes shot up to yours. “But I’m gone first light.” He nodded his head at that.

Giyu finished up dinner as you set the table. It was quiet between you two after everything. Giyu had all but confessed the real depth of his feelings but you had an idea and it wasn’t something you’d let yourself dwell on. That idea was something close to hope. Something close to the degree of happiness. That’s not something you wanted. Not something you’d let yourself have. If there was one thing you were truly good at, it was self destruction.

You took your seat as Giyu placed down the food. Miso soup with sweet potatoes. You stared at it, stricken. Rengoku’s favorite meal.

“Y/n? Are you alright?”

“Seriously? That was at least your sixth bowl.” You huffed as Rengoku smirked as he pulled the bowl to his lips, slurping down the rest of its contents. He placed it down and reached for the ladle again. You watched him in amused surprise as he dulled out a seventh bowl. “You’re overgorging yourself.”

“It’s too good. Who taught you to cook, kid?”

“You did.” You sighed with an eyeroll as Rengoku laughed heartily.

“Ah! That’s right I did.”

You blinked a few times and suddenly your face felt wet. You pressed a hand to your cheek. You hadn’t cried since losing your parents. You thought you were incapable, that you had exhausted your tear ducts at night. You hadn’t cried when you lost Rengoku and you always felt inhuman because of it. You looked across the table and met Giyu’s wide eyed stare, he looked startled at your tears.

“What’s wrong?” He asked and you couldn’t stop the tears now. They fell so fluidly, so overwhelmingly. You tried to apologize but your words just came out in stuttered croaks in your throat. Giyu stood so fast he knocked his chair over as he crossed to the other side of the table. He dropped to his knees beside you and pulled you to him. Rengoku hugged you a lot. You’d say it was unwanted but it was something you needed. Giyu’s arms around you felt different. He hugged you close to his chest, his hand tangled in your hair as you fell prey to your emotions. But startlingly so… it felt nice. Bottling things up for so long had very nearly ended you and you might’ve been able to really shut off your humanity if it hadn't been for that damned letter. If it hadn't been for Rengoku’s unending kindness. If it hadn't been for Giyu’s persistence. You could’ve nearly ended up as black hearted as the demon that flipped your life upside down. That was the most startling revelation of them all.

Giyu hugged you tight as you fell to pieces. He didn’t let go, never even loosened his arms a little bit around you. He just held you and let you cry and cry. It should’ve been embarrassing but as he pulled your hair back out of your face and wiped your wet cheeks there wasn’t an ounce of that annoying sympathy in his eyes. Just utter understanding. And this was the most inopportune time, seeing as your eyes were probably bloodshot, nose probably running like crazy, but without thinking you sucked in a ragged breath and then pressed your mouth to his.

Giyu made a sound low in his throat, you felt his arms around you tighten, drawing you in, deepening the kiss. This wasn’t something you knew of. Your parent’s pecked each other’s lips and cheeks but this… no this was something for behind closed doors. For just you two. That fire that pooled in your stomach upon seeing Giyu had heightened at least tenfold when he pulled you into his lap. Your bodies pressed against one anothers, no room, not even a milimeter’s length of space. He kissed you softly, but you kissed him back hard. That chasm of loneliness in you had reached its peak and you wanted it gone. He gently ran his hand through your hair and you balled your fist in his shirt. He gently lowered you back and kissed you against the hardwood flooring of his kitchen.

You shoved your chair away from you both and hooked your legs around his hips. He made another sound and you found that you liked it so you tightened your hold and slid your hand in his hair. That awarded you another sound, like a whimper. When he pulled back for air you yanked him by the hair back to your lips. Fuck air. You didn’t need that. You’d rather breathe him in. He whimpered again, his hips mindlessly moving, sending a wave of heat through you and this time it was your turn to groan. He hooked an arm around your back and with strength and swiftness, he hoisted you up off the floor without even breaking the kiss. You gasped in surprise and he walked you through the hallway. Kissing you against the wall and the door and the dresser before he finally made it to his bed.

You two fell into the softness of his covers, his body trapping you beneath him. He trailed his lips away from yours and whimpered at the loss of contact. But he kissed both your cheeks, your forehead, the tip of your nose and to your jaw. He paid extra attention to your neck before kissing your collar bones. He kissed his way back down your body. Kissing your scars that had once been an eyesore to you. Ever so gently tracing some absentmindedly with his other hand. Whatever growing between you two was something to be earned. Sure you loved Giyu but you needed more time with him. You spent eight years barely speaking. You could tell Giyu felt that too because when his lips met yours again and pulled back you both blinked tiredly at one another.

Astonishingly you watched the softest of smiles spread across Giyu’s face. You wanted to catalog this moment forever. To remember it till the day you died. Giyu pressed one last kiss to your forehead and then dropped beside you on the bed. He pulled you to him, your back pressed to his front. Your legs tangled as his hand reached across you and intertwined with yours. You blushed but settled against him. The dregs of sleep calling for you. You two didn’t need to speak another word.

You watched the first light roll in through Giyu’s curtains. It shone like blades across his room. Giyu softly snored beside you, arms still around your body. You’d never kissed a single soul before but you knew what a kiss meant. You knew whenever your dad kissed your mom or the other way around that it was an unspoken way to say I love you. But it was a different kind of love your parents shared. You loved your family. You loved Rengoku.

But you loved Giyu.

You loved him as you clamped your fist in his shirt the night he saved you. You loved him when you stepped off that train. You loved him at every hashira meeting and every stolen glance. You loved him as you read Kagaya’s letter and loved him when he opened the door. As he chased you down in the street and begged you to come back to his home. So many problems never go away, some pain felt as though it would last forever and you never thought you could break through. You never thought you could just grow around it, because nothing was more persistent than a plant in the presence of the sun. You never told Rengoku you loved him, never told him how much he meant to you and that his kindness never fell to deaf ears. You had spent eight years loving Giyu and not letting yourself know it.

And all it took was some miso soup and sweet potatoes.

#fem reader #demon slayer giyuu #demon slayer x reader #giyuu tomioka #giyu x reader #giyu x y/n #giyu x you #giyuu x reader #kny giyuu #kny x reader

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sashi-ya · 4 months

Text

𝑪𝑼𝑻𝑺 𝑶𝑭 𝑭𝑹𝑬𝑬𝑫𝑶𝑴 「 part 1 」 soshiro hoshina x f! officer! reader

a/n: yes! first Kaiju no. 8 fic ever! idk how many of you would like to read from Kaiju but I've been obsessed with it lately, and especially with Soshiro. it's pretty short and wrote it cause I needed to think of other things after studying. So yeah, enjoy! tw: there aren't "sex" scenes, however mdni as it has suggestive language, nudity and mature content. (thank god for this manga having almost every character above 25!). Pretty much inspired on Soshi's backstory from Kaiju no 8 side B, so expect fluff too. what happened on the following days? more Soshiro smut, here. masterlist

“I can’t take the suit off” you murmur, trying to lower the front zipper. The mission took much more than what you expected, and the kaiju stench is making you nauseous.

For the time being, most of your squad members have already jumped into the showers. But you, still trying to get out of the suit, haven’t.

“I… this shit… why is it not working?” you protest, forcing the zipper more and more, but it hasn’t been able to go down past the beginning of your chest.

You try to look for the intercom; pressing it to call the Operations leader Konomi, will surely help you out with the captive suit. But, you can’t find it. Did you lose the little intercom before coming back to the base? Or did it fell around there?

Everything seems to be flaunting tonight. It’s late, you are tired. You’ve been hit several times by different Kaiju, but none of them -luckily- was able to injure you.

However, you begin to feel an incredible -and uncontrollable- heat coming from the suit itself and reaching the inner layers of your skin and organs.

You don’t panic. At first.

You definitely panic two minutes later, when the heat is unbearable and the pain in such restrictive jail is almost deadly.

“Help…” you whine, not loud enough to be heard by anyone else. Or at least, definitely not enough to be listened over the lively chattering coming from the showers.

But it hurts, as much as the acid of those despicable monsters when their core explode. And it really begins to interfere with your breathing, and thus, with your consciousness.

“Help me… I’m burning…” you scream louder this time. But no one comes, and your knees hit the ground in pain.

Tears flood up your eyes, your nails aren’t enough to tear the thick skin of Izumo Techs’ innovative suit. No guns are enough, probably, even if you had the chance to go grab yours… it wouldn’t be useful.

You pray, you wish for someone to cut that trap into pieces.

“H- help… me…” “WHAT IS IT?!”

In between blurred eyes and painful frown, you device an angel of slanted eyes and deep purple hair.

“I… the suit… it’s boiling… it’s overheating… I can’t take it off” you grasp a little bit of air and try to communicate -effectively- the reason of your suffering.

“Stay quiet” he commands, and you comply. There is nothing you wouldn’t do to go against his orders.

An immediate relief comes with enough cuts that you couldn’t even see. Completely naked, completely soaked in sweat. There you lay, panting, with still stings of pain reverberating all over your skin.

“Come here” he says, ripping the remaining pieces off the suit still ferally attached to your burning skin. And as feral as the suit is, the feral his hands are when ripping its pieces away.

“Vice-captain Hoshina… th-thank you…” you cry, completely unaware of your impure show off.

His eyes open widely, and for the first time you see the beautiful bloody irises he usually keeps hidden away. But his expression is not jovial, nor even neutral. He is by far worried.

Probably for the first time in ages, the blades have fallen to the ground and with those same hands he saved your life he hurries to carry you to the men’s showers.

At the speed of light, cold water begins to gush from the showerheads. Your body feels instant relief; so much there is even some vapor coming from your skin.

As it bathes you, it also bathes him. Completely dressed, Soshiro gets drenched in the same water as you. And, as his hair becomes wet, one of his hands moves it out of his face, revealing his façade completely.

Your arms hang from his shoulders into his back. Your knees, fight to keep you standing up even if the one actually holding you up is no other than him.

Soshiro is completely mute, and so do you. There is, maybe, no need to speak.

He lets his jacket slide through his shoulders to finally fall into the shower’s floor. The compressive shirt underneath gets also wet, becoming something like a second skin of him. Showing off the hours of training, and why he is the vice-captain of your division.

Immorally, you that were on the brink of death a couple of minutes ago, now feel in heaven because of your saviour. Because of your blades wielding hero.

Once again, he was able to save a life with those thinly cut masses of iron.

His hand, with soft but still steady pace, clean something off your back. And for that your breasts are pressed against his chest. You can see his neck from the side, as he tries to take a deeper look at your shoulder blades. You inhale the scent of his skin, a mix of sweat from the last battle and manly hints of fresh perfume.

“You got them almost engraved on your skin. What the fuck? The suits aren’t supposed to hurt you this way” he whispers, close to your ear. “We should go to the medical pavilion, now” he adds.

You nod, feeling how everything has started to spin around you and your stamina decreases more and more.

“Thank you, Soshi- Hoshina fuku Taichou…” you babble, realizing your faces are closer that what they should ever be and your arms and his are interlocked pretty strongly to the other’s body.

He takes a deep breath through his tiny nose, looking at you with lazy eyes. Just a tiny line of red is visible, as tiny as the opening of his lips that let prominent fangs barely flash.

Soshiro’s chest goes up and down, harder every time. His muscles tense more and more, especially the ones on his neck. His hug gets even tighter, pulling you so closer that ever before.

“It’s… ok…” he barely words; something is affecting that man… and it’s probably all your body, all your still warm skin being his for at least a couple of minutes, the way your lips have become red and pouty, your sloppy eyes and the warmth of your breath closer to his mouth.

“What happened!!??” “Vice-captain?!” “are you two allr-“ the girls scream in terror. Probably, once they were out of the showers they faced the dantesque scenery of blades lying on the ground and a anti kaiju suit completely destroyed and fuming scattered all over the floor.

Within seconds, not only the officers of squad 3 have reached the place but also the men. Some of them, thinking not the worst… but probably that Hoshina fuku Taichou and you have finally caved in for lust.

With a fast reaction, Soshiro grabs the coat of his own uniform to cover you up. And with a much more severe tone ever heard, he orders Kikoru to call Mina and Okomi and let them know he is taking a badly injured officer to the medical pavilion. As for the rest, a scary deadly look over his shoulder was enough to make them run away from the place allowing him to pass.

You, however, couldn’t quite experience such happenings, as your consciousness had fade away right before your comrades arrived.

A soft white light shines in between your shut eyes; the sound of unknown solitude reaches your ears as well as the synchronic beep of your heart reflected on a machine.

“What-“ you mumble, regaining consciousness. Your body feels cold, and you are thankful for that. Your limbs are heavy, but you can move them. Your lips and mouth are dry, but you smile as you remember vague flashes of Soshiro and you under the shower.

You finally open your eyes to discover you are indeed at some kind of medical facility, soon remembering this is the place you all come when you are severely injured after battle.

Everything on your body seems to be on its place, and for that you breathe alleviated. Thankful to your hero, you wonder how to thank him when you are out of here… or maybe, you just plan to leave the squad as he has seen you completely naked.

“I didn’t know you were awake already” a well-known voice scares you away. You try to stand up, but his hand stops you from doing so. “I couldn’t sleep, I was worried for you” he says, with that sweet funny tone he often uses to communicate.

There is, as far as you could see, anyone around but you and him. Soshiro, who apparently couldn’t sleep, has come to see you.

Your cheeks burn, and it’s not because of a defective suit now. It is because, you are deeply embarrassed, and still, something inside you is jumping with genuine happiness to see him here.

“I’m ok, Sir. But.. you didn’t have to come! I’m deeply thankful for you saving my life, and I promise you I will replace the uniform you got all wet” you say, trying to look away from him who has came closer to your bed.

Soshiro bursts out laughing, the way he only knows how to. He grabs his stomach, and soon flashes of the way those abs looked with wet fabric sticked to them, makes you shiver.

“You- you should worry for your own suit! Not mine!” he continues laughing while, little by little, he ends up sitting right on the bed. “By the way, you know why your suit almost killed you?” he asks.

You swallow. What- why is he sitting next to you?

You shake your head in denial, out of words, because you couldn’t think of a reason for such big flaw on that impressive technological miracle.

Soshiro, who is well known for being at least a little bit irreverent -and that’s exactly what you love the most about him-, gets himself comfortable next to you. He lies back, as you move to the side to make him some space.

Now, the scent of his skin is clean and delicious -even more than earlier-. And you can smell it, because there isn’t much room to be separated on a single bed.

“Well… you had a piece of Kaiju tooth stuck on your lower back. Therefore, the suit either processed it as a threat or… it reacted with the pieces of kaiju within it. In any case, you will be given a new one in a couple of days” he tells you, with his right arm stuck underneath the back of his head.

His bicep, perfectly moulded to be strong, but still lightweight to be as agile as possible, protrudes with the hem of the compression shirt around it. Does he really know how sexy he looks? Or he is absolutely unaware of the effects he has?

“Oh…” you sigh. You take it as a personal failure; how were you not able to see it? “Don’t worry, this incident helped them to investigate further security measures… however, isn’t your back hurting?” he asks, this time turning to you.

You deny, again, without any words coming from your mouth. But there isn’t much you could do, when Soshiro turns you around so that your back faces him.

“You do, in fact, have a big bruise. I should report this, too” he comments, as his soft index travels down your spine, to the small of your back.

Your eyes, opened big enough to look like moons, have stopped seeing all around and all you can think of is the proximity of that man to you.

“You good?” he murmurs, ignorant of everything happening to your body. “Ye-yes, vice-captain. I wanna thank you for taking care of us the way you do; hadn’t been for you, I’d be dead by now…” you pull those words from who knows where, even if your muscles seem paralyzed from his touch. Your speech sounds like those you give when you follow commands during battle.

He laughs; this time softer and sweeter. You can feel his body coming closer, enough to feel the tip of his nose grazing your neck.

“We should have each other’s backs in here, or else… but most importantly, being told my blades will not be useful to fight and protect, you remind me once again that they indeed can” he whispers, making your skin shiver.

It’s clear that he wants you. And you want him, too. And you always knew, and he always knew. And all of them, too. Why, just now, on a place where you should be monitored, there were nobody around if not?

“Can I rest here for a minute?” he asks, as his forehead lands on your nape. “All the time you want, Vice-captain” you answer back, smiling softly.

You slowly relax, as his hand slides in the most delicate way towards your belly to hug you. Your hand, also delicate, fall on top of his, confirming how much you would love for him to touch you like this forever.

“Call me Soshiro when we are like this, ok?” he murmurs, planting the first kiss right on your shoulder.

You turn around, slowly. Even if you would love to stay the way you were, you can’t stop yourself from wanting to see his face.

“Soshiro…” you whisper, coming closer to his lips. “That’s better…” he smiles, kindly.

And one kiss, and then another came by… and thankfully, that night, there were no more Kaiju around.

#kaiju no 8 #kaiju no. 8 #kaiju no 8 x reader #kaiju no. 8 fluff #kaiju no. 8 smut #soshiro hoshina #soshiro hoshina x reader #hoshina soushirou #hoshina soshirou x reader

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hannieehaee · 5 months

Text

SERENDIPITY

18+ / mdi

summary: jungkook, god of love and son of venus is given the task by his mother herself to rid the world of you, known as psyche, as your beauty begins to rival her own. unfortunately for all parties involved, jungkook becomes enamored by you upon accidentally pinching himself with his own arrow.

content: cupid!jungkook, psyche!reader, an extremely simplified and smutty version of the og story, afab reader, everyone here is a god/goddess of some sort, side character deaths, the dialogue is very much modern and not fitting of the times, angst(?), fluff, smut, they have sex where she doesnt know who he is multiple times but its consensual, penetrative sex, etc.

wc: 8.6k

a/n: for immersion purposes, psyche will be a reader insert and wont be referred to as psyche throughout the story (but jk will be referred interchangeably as cupid). anyways i read this last week during one of the lit courses i decided to take to improve my writing and really enjoyed it!! i hope u guys enjoy it too<3

masterlist | kofi/patreon

support me through a one time tip<3

"Why did you call for me, again?"

"Jungkook, pay attention!", hissed his mother, holding her fingers to her temples in stress as one of her many servants walked in with the fruit she'd requested, "I need you to use your arrows on someone."

"What? Why? I thought you didn't like me meddling with people's love lives."

"This is different. This one needs a little help," Venus frowned in sheer annoyance, "She is known as Psyche by many, Y/N by her loved ones. She has become quite a figure among the Roman population. Some have begun to worship her beauty. They pray to her, they bring her offerings, they kiss at her feet, completely disregarding the true Goddess of Beauty."

"And where does this concern me?", Jungkook was beyond bored by his mother's ramblings. On a usual day, he would be out and entertaining himself with the many mortal maidens found around Rome, always guaranteeing himself a partner for the day.

Venus shot Cupid a look as her servants fed her by mouth, making him straighten his back and begin paying better attention. Even as the Goddess of Beauty, Venus was known as one of the most menacing Goddesses to exist, holding far too much power among all Gods and Goddesses. Jungkook couldn't help but feel intimidated by her, even as carefree as he was known to be.

"She has far too many admirers. Even Gods are beginning to show interest in her, yet she is lacking in suitors thus far. I need you to shoot your arrow and tie her off to the most hideous creature you can muster. She may seize from being a disturbance this way."

"Okay, so you want me to doom her to an eternity with a monster?", Jungkook tilted his head in curiosity.

Despite being considered the most beautiful entity, Jungkook knew Venus to be one of the least amicable creatures in all of the land. Mortals were blissfully unaware of her cruelty, thinking her to be the most perfect among all Goddesses. However, Cupid, as her son, knew of the misery that awaited anyone who crossed the Goddess of Beauty.

Venus halted her movements in frustration, scaring the servants nearby before turning to Jungkook in annoyance, "Cupid, my son, you will obey my order without question. I gave you those wings, I gave you that bow, and I gave you that arrow. I don't care how cruel you may think me to be, this is an order. You shall not utilize your powers for your own endeavors until you finish your task," she demanded, "Now, go rid me of that wench before I find someone else to do the job."

With a sigh, Jungkook nodded in defeat, fully aware of the type of punishments his mother could deliver should he disobey her orders. Walking over to the window through which he had originally entered, he pulled his bow and arrow from his back, beginning to fly off with his wings as he embarked on a journey to seek out the mighty Psyche that had his mother so worried.

"Y/N, there's another letter from one of your admirers," announced Psyche's mother, placing the letter on the huge pile of gifts provided by the many civilians who came visit their castle with the hope of getting a glimpse of the beautiful girl.

"Mother, what shall I do with all these? There's so many letters yet not a single suitor," you sighed, frustrated at the lack of prospects you'd had so far, "My sisters have both married, yet I am left alone with no one to seek my heart."

"Child, you should be grateful," said your mother, "You are admired through all the land, vied for as if you were a true Goddess. Someone will come for you one day, rest assured," affirmed your mother, petting your hair as she landed a soft kiss on your forehead and took her leave once more.

It was easy for your parents to grow used to the love and admiration you received. Endless people would come and dedicate themselves to their servitude if it meant as much as receiving your blessing – which was absolutely worthless as a mere princess in a land filled with mystical deities.

Your elder sisters had both been married off months back, finding old yet respectable husbands to take them away and care for them as any and all husbands should. You, however, remained alone with your parents, always hoping that a man would be brave enough to court you.

It was unfortunate, really; the way in which your beauty prevented you from receiving any suitors. You had not chosen to be blessed by Venus herself, nor did you ever hope to become her contender in the title of the most beautiful entity in all of creation. Unlike you, she had found a God to sweep her off her feet, gifting her with the fruit of love himself – her son Cupid. Oh, how you wished he'd shoot his arrow and allow you some rest from this endless search for a husband.

As weeks passed by, your parents became more and more worried with your state. You were unconsolable, finding misery in every letter your sisters would send in regard to their new lives with their new families. One of your sisters was already awaiting an heir. Despite your endless happiness for your loving sister, your misery at your own situation prevented you from feeling genuine excitement for a new heir in your family. You wanted your own. You needed your own.

Your constant distress caused your parents to seek out a esteemed Oracle in your city, hoping that she would be able to give some insight about your predicament. She would be able to answer the question as though who and when you would find a suitor.

Visiting her was easy enough, feeling intense excitement at the prospect of an insight into who your beloved would be. Your parents seemed indifferent, but simply hoped to ease your endless concerns.

The Oracle took the form of an old woman, one who was known to assert people's future entirely correctly. Thus far, she was yet to be erroneous in her readings. Such magic was impressive to you, leaving you worried for any bad outcome she could possibly see in your future. If she were to find something unfortunate, there would likely be no way to remedy it. However, your parents assured you that the preventive knowledge would allow you to act accordingly and fix your destiny should you need to.

"The great Psyche," smiled the old woman sitting across from you, "I have heard lots about you."

Bowing your head in respect, you introduced yourself despite her knowing you by the popular name of Psyche, "I have heard of you too. Thank you for agreeing to meet with me, Oracle. I hope to find a favorable end with you."

"I hope for the same."

Taking your hands, the Oracle felt them, closing her eyes in concentration as she went through every crease and contour of your hands, furrowing her eyebrows every so often. Her emotions translated onto you somehow, making your heartbeat speed up and your own eyebrows furrow in worry.

Suddenly her eyes opened, a clear distress showing through them.

"Your destiny is muddled," she began, "I cannot see too well, but your future is grand and ... it will lead to misfortune to those around you."

Your mother stepped in at such words, inquiring for more information, "What do you mean by this? What is it that you saw?"

"Your child may wed a powerful being. One among the strongest to ever be seen. She shall marry a being stronger than a God, one capable of immeasurable destruction should he choose to engage in such acts."

"A God?", asked your father.

"It is uncertain as per what I see," she responded, "All I can see is his aura radiating stronger than the sun. He shall take her and make her his own, not allowing anything to stand in his way," she reaffirmed.

"I-", you began, unable to finish your sentence as your parents quickly stood up and dragged you onto your feet.

"We shall take our leave," your mother said frantically, "We thank you for your service."

No more questions were asked as your parents dragged you by your hand, leading you out of the cursed place.

The Oracle's words had never been wrong, which meant that your future was sealed. You were to wed something that was not a man. Was he a God? There was just no way of knowing. It could've been a demon or monster seeking the most beautiful woman in the land. It could've been a God seeking a mortal to keep in his chambers as he wed a Goddess. Whatever it may have been, you were terrified.

"You shall leave," were your mother's first words upon arriving back to the castle.

"W-what?"

"We cannot keep you here. If a being is to come and rip you away, we cannot allow it to destroy our kingdom. Your fate is sealed, but ours remains," said your mother, your father nodding in agreement beside her.

"Where am I to go?" you whispered in disbelief.

"We will take you to the mountains. Maybe the monster shall not find you there."

"Monster? How can you be so certain?"

"Gods mustn't marry mortals, you foolish child. A God would never have to drag you away, as you would go willingly. It must be an evil creature attempting to attain your beauty."

"But-"

"No 'but's, child. It has been decided," your father gave the final verdict, thus sealing your fate even further.

To have hoped for protection from your parents had been foolish. These were the same royalty who had given away their two eldest daughters to the highest bidders, not caring for proper marriages as long as they meant protection for their kingdom. You were equally worthless to them. Should you pose any danger to their kingdom and you would simply be thrown aside, just as now.

The following days proved as a goodbye as your parents prepared your departure. They assured themselves they shall never see you again, so they made arrangements with that idea in mind. Without a care for your wellbeing, they assured themselves this was the best course of action. Your fate was sealed, after all. There was nothing they could do to protect you any longer.

It was only a few days after your visit to the Oracle that your parents made the long and extraneous walk to the lone mountains neighboring the kingdom. Climbing the highest and most lonesome peak, they bid their goodbyes to you, with your mother letting out a few worthless tears as she looked at you one last time.

Your first few days on the mountain had been miserable. You only had enough food to realistically survive a few days, but your parents had reassured you that your husband would come for you soon, likely aware that you were there for his taking. The constant fear of the most odious taking you away made you feel terror you had never experienced. Jumping into the peaks below you crossed your mind a few times, but you knew you'd survive the fall. Your fate did not predict a tragic death, which meant that any fall would not result in demise. Your metaphorical demise would only come in the form of your husband.

All you could do now was wait for him to come, hoping against all hope that he would not be as monstrous as you dared imagine.

Jungkook was beyond annoyed at his current task.

Despite being a God, he did not hold the same almighty powers many other Gods did. His skill was the intertwining of souls, shooting his arrow any time he knew two people were meant to be tied for life.

In all honesty, he did not care for such a task. The thought of tying Psyche's fate to that of a monstrous being did not bother him in the slightest. He felt quite indifferent about it, not knowing nor caring who Psyche was. He doubted Psyche's beauty could possibly be as menacing as his mother had described, but he still felt some sort of intrigue about her appearance.

Fortunately, his curiosity was soon satiated.

After days of looking for Psyche, he finally encountered her, watching from afar as he spotted a lone woman standing on the cliff of a mountain, completely bare as her clothes laid ripped on the small surface of the mountain. It appeared that she had been there for days, likely having ripped off her own clothes in frustration.

Had you been left here for his taking? Destiny worked in mysterious ways, after all.

As of now, Cupid had only been able to see your backside, as you were facing opposite of him. Even from afar, Jungkook could not deny the beauty of your body. Every curve and contour of it had been sculpted to perfection, making the God salivate at the sight. But Jungkook had come here with a task. He needed to take care of his mother's request. There was no time to thirst after the heavenly body before him.

Reaching behind him, Jungkook grabbed onto his bow and arrow, bringing both to the front as he began to aim at you, prepared to shoot when he got the angle just right. After shooting you, he would aim his arrow at the first creature he encountered, let it be a deer or an actual monster. It did not matter much at the moment.

But as Jungkook had said, destiny worked in mysterious ways.

Jungkook had been entirely unprepared for the moment you turned around, facing him yet not seeing him from his hiding spot in the distance.

Your beauty took his breath away instantly, making him falter in his movements as his focus shifted from his arrow and onto you. Your body was the image of perfection itself, shaped perfectly for his hands to drag themselves across every inch of skin. Your curves were begging to be marked by his lips, being just the perfect size for any God to lose himself in them. And your face? Gods, it was the prettiest sight in all of Rome.

Jungkook understood now why his mother had felt threatened by your mere existence. He understood why you had so many admirers, yet no suitors brave enough to make you theirs.

Without realizing, Jungkook's hand had slipped during his daydreaming, making him misplace his hand and causing his arrow to grace him across the chest, creating a gash right by his accelerated heart.

Oh.

Fuck.

You ...

Gods, you beautiful thing. You gorgeous, beautiful thing.

The effects of the arrow were quick in turning Jungkook into a mess of himself. His breathing accelerated, his eyes became hooded, his skin rose in goosebumps, his cock stood tall and proud. His entire body betrayed him as he rapidly fell in love with you.

His mission had failed, but he could not care for such things in this moment. Not when he felt such strong emotions of love towards you.

This was rare. His arrows caused people to fall in love, but never had they produced such a strong effect. Never had he seen a man become so immensely enamored so quickly after a shot of his arrow. Perhaps your beauty had bewitched him before his arrow struck? The details didn't really matter much to him. At least not as much as his sheer need to have you did.

But it could not be done so easily.

Gods were not meant to fall in love with humans. Should his mother ever find out and you would both meet your ruin. No, he needed to think this through. He needed to get to you, but not allow you to know of him. If you were ever to see him, you'd fall in love with him instantly.

He did not want to force such a situation onto you, so despite the sheer effort it took, Jungkook took his leave, opting to plan for an appropriate way to rescue you and make you his.

It took a few days for your misery to come to an end.

After endless hours of agony stranded and alone on the peak of that mountain as you awaited your inevitable demise, you finally came to find some peace.

It was a voice, an unknown one, calling to you. It had been during one of the many instances in which you had found yourself wailing at your misery, completely defeated at your situation.

Suddenly a voice called out to you, reassuring words in their tongue.

"Do not fear, Psyche, nor be sorrowful beyond measure... I have come to aid you, for it is impossible that Love should go unrewarded."

Despite the words, there was no heavenly body attached to them. They had simply come from the wind.

"Who are you?", you asked.

"I am Zephyrus, the West Wind. You may never see me, but I am here to rescue you."

"Rescue me? Where shall you take me?"

"I shall take you to my master's castle. He shall care for you there."

"Your master?", was this meant to be the monster who would wed you?

"Yes. His immeasurable love for you shall be proved as he cares for you."

"Is he ... Is he a monster?"

"On the contrary. He is a heavenly body; the most heavenly of them all," reassured the West Wind.

A heavenly body? Could it really be a God?

You needed no time to consider it. You decided to you must go and meet the man who would save you from your misery.

"Take me, Zephyrus. Please."

"With pleasure."

You were unsure how you had arrived here, but that was the last of your concerns upon seeing your surroundings.

Currently, you found yourself in the most beautiful of palaces. Everything was made of expensive marble and tailored just to your tastes. As you explored the gorgeous abode, Zephyrus explained your current situation to you.

"You shall be cared for here, by the most competent of servants," the West Wind began, "They will rid you of all the misery you suffered on that mountain. Every bit of suffering your family brought to you shall be undone within this palace.

"Oh, thank you, Zephyrus! You don't understand how grateful I am."

"You shall not thank me. This is all your beloved's doing."

"When shall I meet him?"

"You will meet him tonight, as you lay to sleep," he began, "However, you shall not see him."

That confused you.

"What do you mean?"

"He wishes not to be seen. He will come to you in your barest of forms to reveal his undying affections, but you shall respect his wishes of not being seen. He will show up in the dark as your back faces him. This is his one and only condition," revealed Zephyrus.

"Oh."

It was disheartening, to say the least. But you owed your eternal gratitude to your future husband, so if he requested not to be seen, you would obey such order.

"I understand. Anything for my savior."

The next few hours were spent in luxury you had yet to familiarize yourself with.

You were bathed and fed, healed from all trace of injury during your time stranded. You were treated as a Goddess, served by invisible, voiceless servants as the wind aided you in all your needs.

It proved quite lonely, but you were still content at the knowledge that your beloved would come to you tonight.

They dressed you up as beautiful as you could imagine. Your beauty shone through the care you were given, making you appear entirely irresistible to any man who should come your way.

Oh, you were beyond excited to see your future husband. Would he allow passion to take over him when he saw you?

You had not met him yet, but you were already in love. All things Zephyrus had told you about him only made you more excited.

He detailed his feelings for you, telling you the mountains he'd move just for a single glance at you. He told you of the creation of this palace, rushed to be made to your liking just so he could care for you away from all harm.

Oh, your husband just sounded so lovely. Yet you wanted to cause his ruin upon meeting him.

You laid in bed, your natural beauty shining through the care your invisible servants had given you. Your sleeping gown allowed any to see the perfect contour of your curves as you laid in bed awaiting your beloved's arrival, back facing the window as Zephyrus had instructed.

You were not to face towards the window, allowing the dark atmosphere of the room to hide your beloved's identity. However, according to Zephyrus, your beloved would be able to see you through his magic, allowing him to get his fill of your beauty.

It only took a few hours for a voice to emerge through the window.

"Oh, my beloved," sighed the voice, approaching.

"Husband?", you asked, still lying on your side, facing away from him.

"Yes, it's me. I have not wed you yet, but you are correct. You are my wife from now on, beautiful," his steps got closer, stopping at the edge of the bed opposite your own.

"Oh, husband, how long I've waited for you!", you wailed.

He took a shaky breath, climbing the bed as his hands laid softly on your hip. Your hip had been sticking out due to your sideways position, ready for him to grab at it however he desired.

"My beautiful Psyche ... You cannot understand how badly I want you ..." he breathed, hands hesitant as they caressed the curves presented to him, "I've had to hold back from ravaging you for days. Your touch is the only cure to this madness I feel."

Never in your life had you felt such an immediate fire within you. Oh, how badly you wanted to see him and express the same sentiment.

"You shall touch me however you wish, my dear husband. Please touch me ... I am yours," you pleaded.

"Yes? You are mine? Even if you shall never see me, you wish to be mine?"

You winced at such words, sad at the implications behind never facing your husband. But his voice and touch were enough to render you powerless against him, wanting him more than you thought possible.

You whimpered when his hands went to lift up your gown, revealing your nude bottom as he continued to caress at you.

"Yes! I am yours in every way. Please ... please take me. I need your touch more than anything," you pleaded.

With a groan, he positioned you so he could kneel behind you, placing you on all fours for him. It truly did not matter if you faced him or not, as the room was far too dark for you to ever make out his mere silhouette.

His hands were greedy as he felt you up, throwing off the useless gown so he could have his fill of your body. With endless groans and puffs of breath, he touched every inch, kissing his favorite parts as he explored your body.

"You beautiful thing ... No one shall ever have this body ever again. It is mine forever. Do you understand?"

You sighed in pleasure due to his mere touch, "Yes, husband. My body is for you only."

"I am going to officially wed you as I find my rightful place inside you. This will serve as our wedding night. Okay, gorgeous?"

You nodded wordlessly, pushing up against him to encourage his touch further.

It seemed as if he was already nude, as you felt his hardness behind you when he pushed up against you in retaliation.

Oh, it was so big and warm. He would surely be your ruin.

With a groan, he entered you, making your back arch deliciously at such stretch.

"Oh ... My angel ... My beautiful Psyche. You are everything a man could want, fuck. Feel so perfect around me," the God groaned upon entering you, hands digging into your hips as he began canting his hips against yours.

He caressed you like a man in love, whimpering any time you'd get just a little too tight for him. For the first time in your life, you felt like a true Goddess, experiencing worship from a God himself.

"It's so warm and perfect ...", he sighed, "Made for me, yeah? Just for me ... My Psyche, my ruin, my perfect ruin," he murmured as he pressed kisses against your back, a new confession of love behind each one.

Meanwhile, you were rendered wordless. Nothing made sense when you felt such otherworldly pleasure. Were mere mortals meant to experience such bliss? How could you ever outlive such an experience when your beloved was giving you everything and more than you ever hoped from a husband?

Your whines filled up the room, making your husband speed up out of sheer desire for more. He encouraged your sounds, dipping a hand between your legs to play with you with his skilled fingers, drawing cry after cry out of you as his hips refused to slow down.

"You are so beautiful, fuck ..." he groaned, "Men should worship the ground you walk on. I will worship you ... Every day for the rest of our lives I will worship this beautiful body."

Nothing but love flowed between you. Your new husband's obsession with you was more than clear. The God worshiped your body with low cries of your name, hips becoming less and less coordinated by the minute. His godly stamina was no match for the feelings flowing through his body, rendering him weaker than a human man at the sight of his beloved losing herself under his touch.

Your high triggered his own, making him slump against your back as his hips attempted to hump against you throughout the entirety of his orgasm. He whimpered pathetically at the tightening of your walls, crying expletives far too explicit for a God to recite.

You did not fare any better. From the moment your husband laid his hands on you, you became a shell of your former self, your body now a vessel dedicated to pleasure. You had yet to even ask his name, too immersed in the love between you to even remember.

"My beautiful girl," he whispered as he recovered his breath, kissing along the length your back, "I will protect you for the rest of eternity," his lips went down your back, reaching your ass, "going to take care of you in any and every way," his lips eventually reached your cunt, still swollen and leaking out his own essence. He remained quiet for a few moments, likely hypnotized by the sight.

"Oh ...," he groaned upon a tentative lick against your sensitive cunt, "Need you again ... Need this cunt again," he cried, losing himself between your folds.

Losing his train of thought entirely, he held you up on your hands and knees, feasting on your cunt shamelessly. He kissed and licked at you, groaning any time your ass would push back against him, silently begging for more.

"F-feels so good ... Need y-you. Please ...", you whimpered, begging for nothing in particular. Such pleasure had you lacking any critical thought. You were likely the most mindless creature in all of the land as your husband took away all your ability to reason.

"Gonna get you there, gorgeous. Gonna make you cum and make you mine over and over again," he growled against your cunt.

With just a few more moments, you came undone once more, this time falling against the bed in sheer exhaustion. You wished to turn around and seek solace in your husband, but you knew better and opted to allow him to initiate the next contact.

Once more, he spent a few moments worshiping your limp body, kissing and sucking at every corner he enjoyed. Every so often he would mutter low praises to your person, claiming worship towards you. Unfortunately, this ended far too soon, quickly leaving you cold and alone on the bed as be suddenly got up.

"I apologize if that was too much," he chuckled, now from a small distance. You wanted to turn to confirm, but you did not dare disobey his prior order, "I, uh, I must take my leave now, my love."

That was when you truly wished to break his rule and turn to him, pleading at him to stay with you through the night. One night and you were already infatuated with him.

"You're leaving?"

The disappointment must've been clear in your voice, as he instructed you to close your eyes before he turned you around to face him, caressing your cheeks in a loving manner before landing a soft peck on your lips.

"I cannot stay the night with you, beautiful. If you wake up and find out my identity ... I don't know how I shall protect you from that."

"But-"

"It's okay, angel. I will be back night after night, giving you all the love a God can muster. Now I bid you goodnight, my love. I love you," he kissed the back of your palm, quickly disappearing from your vicinity before you could say goodbye.

When you opened your eyes he was gone, window still open and marking his sudden exit. As deflated as you felt at his departure, you also felt immense excitement for the next morning in which you'd see him, promising yourself to be prepared for him every single night to deliver your love to him.

After weeks of becoming your husband's wife, you continued to live a life of pure bliss every night as he made love to you. It was still incomprehensible to you how he would deliver his sentiments in such a carnal way, but you were yet to have any complaints. The two of you would create the embodiment of love together every night, and you looked forward to it day after day.

But it was only the nighttime that brought you such happiness. You'd spend your days waiting for your husband to arrive, hoping for the moment in which he'd be with you and love you. He'd make conversation with you every night after making love to you, making you feel less lonely in those moments. However, you'd remain completely alone the rest of your days.

It wasn't after many pleas that your husband finally agreed to allow you some company in your new palace. Being accessible only through the flowing of Zephyrus' wind, you were completely alone at all times. It had taken vast begging from your part, but your husband eventually agreed to command Zephyrus to fly your sisters out to you, somehow managing to get into contact with them.

The last time you had seen them had been before finding out about your wretched fate through that Oracle. They remained unaware that you had been left stranded at the mountain, likely entering a panic when the news were delivered to them.

Before allowing your sisters access to his palace, your husband had warned you to stray away from their persuasion. Confused, you asked him to elaborate. He then informed you of the way in which they'd likely envy your newfound fortune and somehow wish to cause a rift between you and your husband. As one last warning, he told you to not listen to them should they tell you to unmask his identity. He loved you far too much to be ripped away from you in such a way, he had said.

You did not believe your sisters capable of attempting to sabotage the immense love you had found in the arms of your husband, but you had unfortunately been wrong.

Upon their arrival, they had showed little concern for your sudden disappearance, simply making quips about how much less their husbands provided for them, claiming they deserved more than yourself. They, of course, did not say such things to your face but rather to each other. But the winds of Zephyrus informed you of it all upon their departure. Even during their stay, they demanded you unmask your husband, claiming he must be a hideous creature if he was so insistent in hiding himself from his beloved wife.

You, unfortunately, fell for their trap. The seed of doubt had been instilled within you, making your curiosity for your husband grow more rapidly than ever. As soon as they left, you began pondering on ways to see your husband in a way that would not reveal your betrayal.

The outcome did not matter in the end. Regardless of your husband's appearance, you would fall for him time and time again just from his mere presence. Should he be the most wretched of monsters and you would still love him. His love and tenderness for you had rendered you a woman in love, and nothing would take that away.

But you needed to know. You needed to see him. You had gone far too long without seeing your soul's other half.

It occurred just a few nights later. The fated night in which you would finally see your husband.

By an act of the Gods above, your husband had fallen asleep right after a night of rigorous love making, holding you in his arms with the most love a man could hold for his woman.

In the sheer darkness, you managed to make your way out of your husband's hold, sneaking your way to the other side of the room with difficulty due to the complete lack of illumination in the room. After some struggle in the dark, you found a lamp, which you managed to light up with some oil.

Due to the small size of the lamp, you had to come close to your husband in order to properly see him. With hesitation, you walked over to him, holding the lamp right above his sleeping form to get the perfect view of him.

He was ...

He was the embodiment of love itself.

Before you laid Cupid, the most beautiful of all Gods.

Jungkook, as some knew him, slept under the light of your lamp, beautiful wings nowhere to be seen as he retracted them in his sleep.

You became instantly hypnotized by the sight of your beautiful husband. Your heart sped up and your eyes became heavy. His nude form was nothing short of art, and his gorgeous features were some that could never be replicated by neither man nor God.

If you hadn't already been insanely head over heels over your husband, you would've fallen for Jungkook upon a single sight. It had been the most beautiful God who had been making love to you night after night, praying to you as if you had been the deity.

Unconsciously, you grew too distracted by the sight of your beloved, not realizing you had tilted your lamp enough for some of the scorching oil to slip and trickle onto Jungkook's chest, immediately rendering him awake.

With shock in his eyes, he got up in a frantic hurry, clearly not having realized he had fallen asleep next time you. His hands went straight to soothing the burnt skin right by his chest. It didn't take long for betrayal to appear in his eyes, realizing that you had deliberately sought out a way in which to see him while he was fully unaware of your intentions.

"Psyche ...", he muttered, eyebrows furrowed as he avoided your eyes in disdain. You caught sight of tears growing in his eyes, causing pain to gnaw at your chest.

"Jungkook, I-"

He chuckled bitterly at the situation, "I warned you against this time and time again, but you became poisoned by the words of mere mortals who do not hold the love for you I so highly esteem," he took a breath, "I foolishly wounded myself with my own arrow and took the role of your lover. I feared that you'd want to cut off the head that carries these eyes that love you, so I remained a mystery to you. Yet your own love for me did not respect me enough to halt this betrayal. I- I shall take my leave. Goodbye, Y/N," he said before retracting his wings and making his way out through the window once more, hands rubbing at the growing wound on his chest due to the oil that had burnt him.

You stood there wordless, tears in your eyes as you watched your husband fly away.

Your cursed endlessly throughout the rest of your sleepless night, hoping that maybe he would come back tomorrow so you could make amends.

Tomorrow never came, and neither did the next day. From your perspective, time stood still as Jungkook continued not to show up day after day for a week. On the seventh day, your heart grew too sore to continue waiting for him without taking action.

Although you blamed your own greed for him for your betrayal to him, you also blamed the instigators – your sisters.

But they were your sisters no more. They were simply obstacles to overcome in the journey to gain Jungkook's trust back. And nothing would stop you.

A new sense of vengeance took over you astonishingly fast. Without a second thought, you managed to contact each of your sisters individually, making claims of your husband, Cupid himself, becoming unforgiving of your betrayal and demanding your departure, announcing that he would wed your sister instead. Each of your greedy sisters fell for the lie and one by one fell to their death as they attempted to make their way to Cupid's castle.

As for you, you managed to convince the West Wind to fly you off the mountains so you could begin your journey to your beloved. Hurt and disheartened, you spent weeks in search of him, not mindful at all of how battered you became with the passing of time. Any pain would be worth Jungkook's forgiveness.

However, your state of mind and exhaustion led you to multiple attempts at ending your own life, attempting to drown yourself or jump off cliffs, always surviving almost unscathed by some cruel act of the Gods. Without Jungkook's forgiveness life was simply not worth living.

In the meantime, Jungkook found himself in his mother's chambers, healing from the wound you had caused as his mother let out her fury at the discovery of her son's new lover.

"So you decided to wed your mother's nemesis? You decided that you shall bring this wench upon me and tie her to me for eternity?", she seethed as Jungkook disregarded her, too exhausted to respond.

"I shall find that hideous wench and rid the world of her myself," she decided, calling over a few servants to direct them to deliver you to them, "And you," she turned to Cupid once more, "You useless child. I shall birth another one just to spite you for your disrespect."

Those were her last words as she exit the chambers, leaving Jungkook to his rest once more. He wanted to worry for you, but his wound of the heart needed more healing before he could allow himself to go find you for himself. Within him, he thought of you fondly, hoping you'd survive his mother's wrath.

It did not take long for Venus to find you and bring you to your knees before her, expressing every foul thought she had of you with no shame.

"You believe to be worthy of Cupid, the prettiest God to lay foot on this world? Fine. Should you complete my tasks and I shall stay out of your way. Should you fail, I will do with you as I please."

Having spent weeks alone in the wilderness, injured in every way imaginable, you could not see a better outcome to such a situation. You agreed without thinking twice, knowing that no fate was worse than your current one.

You were assigned impossible tasks, one by one, as Venus sat back and awaited for your inevitable demise.

Much to her surprise, the divine forces had helped you in the completion of each one.

The first task had been to sort an immense amount of grains before morning. The grains amounted to an innumerable quantity, which proved the task to be impossible. Upon your defeat, you fell asleep halfway through the task, somehow waking up to find ants assisting you in its completion. By the time Venus arrived, she had a frown on her face at the sight of the achievement.

Her anger did not last, as she assigned you the next impossible task with ease.

Upon being ordered to gather golden fleece from magic sheep, you knew that this time you'd truly meet your demise. The sheep were extremely aggressive and known to kill a man in mere seconds. However, by another act of the Gods above, the reeds by the riverbank suddenly advised you to await til morning in order to freely gather the fleece that the sheep had shed.

The completion of this task also brought anger to Venus' demeanor, causing her to provide you with yet another impossible task. The completion of the final task finally led to the hardest of them all; one that would finally render you no longer.

Your final task had been to travel to the underworld and bring Venus a box of beauty. There were far too many intricate steps to be followed, but your love for Jungkook was enough to lead your journey.

Finally, upon your arrival, you held the box of beauty in your hands, ready to deliver it to Venus and finally receive her blessing in wedding her son. But once more, your curiosity grew too big.

Before arriving to the mighty Goddess, your hands took a mind of their own, forcing you to take a peak at the box. If you were to officially wed your beloved Cupid, a little extra beauty would surely be helpful.

Your naïveté finally led you to your final moments, causing you to enter eternal sleep upon a small peek of the box's contents. Still slightly conscious, you laid in your lonesome, unable to move nor think.

In your final moments, all you could think of was your beautiful Cupid and how badly you had hoped to live for him. To live to love him once more.

It took Jungkook a few days after his mother's final warning to him to fully recover from his injury.

Being aware of his mother's anger towards you, his immediate thought upon gaining his energy back was to seek you out and rescue you from whatever threat his mother must've been holding over you. He was unsure if she had managed to find you, but he could not take the risk of waiting to find out, knowing your life was likely in danger.

It took interrogating a few servants in order to track you down, now making it his mission to save you from his mother's disdain.

When he had been informed of the endless grueling tasks you had taken on just for a chance to see him again, Jungkook's heart melted. His love for you had never gone away, but his hurt had blinded him as his wound debilitated him. Now fully recovered, he was able to realize that his endless adoration for you was mutual. Your stubborn desire to see him had not been born out of malice, but out of love for him. He understood now. Had he been denied of your beauty for a single day, he would've lost all sense of sanity.

You were currently on your final task, Jungkook had been informed. Worried about your safety, he set out to take the same journey, traveling to retrieve the box himself in case you had somehow not made it on your own. He grew impressed when he reached the end of the journey and found that you had already retrieved it and were currently on your way back.

Jungkook continued to travel in search of you, growing more worried by the second as he did not find you. The moment he finally encountered you, his wings gave out in him, causing him to fall due to the sudden worry the sight caused him.

You were lying on the ground, vulnerable and alone as you held the box against your chest. You must've opened it, he assumed, knowing your curiosity could easily get the best of you.

Running to you, he held you to his arms, throwing the box aside as he caressed your limp body in his arms.

"Oh, Psyche ... My beautiful, curious girl," he tsk'd, "Your curiosity became your undoing once more," he scolded lightheartedly, tears in his eyes at being able to hold you again.

Leaning down, he pressed a lone kiss to your lips, whispering against them as he did so, "Come back to me, my love. Let me make you mine again."

Within seconds your body regained its consciousness, leaving you disoriented for a few moments. Upon realizing Jungkook was holding you, a look of awe in his eyes, you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him as close as humanly possible to you as you cried into his chest.

"Oh, my beautiful girl," he wrapped himself around you, retracting his wings so they'd shield you both from the outside world, "Don't cry for me, my love. I'm here. I adore you more than I can possibly describe."

You wailed apologies into his chest, weaved with many confessions of your love for him. He took them all in with a smile on his face, refusing to let go of you as he memorized the shape of your body against his own.

"Love you so much, my sweet ruin. No one can ever harm you again," he assured, leaving endless kissed against your hair. He finally pulled away, wiping your tears with his thumbs as he looked into your eyes, "Let me take you home, my love."

"My beautiful girl ... How I missed you, fuck," groaned the pretty angel as he laid kisses down your neck.

He pushed you up against the wall the moment he flew you back to his recluse palace, rendering you speechless with just a few kisses. Jungkook wasted no time in showing you his love through words and touches, finally able to face you while he loved on you.

Sighing as he kissed down your neck, you molded yourself to his liking, willing to let him do whatever he wanted to you. You were far too enamored by the God, feeling nothing but inhuman addiction to his touch.

"I adore you more than you could ever understand," he breathed out as his hand ripped apart your worn out gown, wanting to finally see you bare face to face. With a shuddering breath, he got his fill of your body, caressing at every inch his eyes went over, feeling the carnal need to memorize every curve.

Turning you around, he pressed you up to his front, grinding against you as he felt you up, groaning breathily into your ear.

"I have wanted your body since I first laid eyes on you," he whispered, hips slow and sensual in their grinding, "I can finally have you however I want. Oh, my angel, I'm going to render you useless by the time I'm done with you."

Your Cupid then grabbed you and led you to the bed, where you positioned yourself on your hands as knees as you usually did. Shaking his head, Jungkook stops you before you settle on the bed, instructing you to turn around and lay face up for him.

"No, beautiful. Turn to me. Want to see you. Want to make love to you while you look at me with those pretty eyes," Jungkook moaned against your lips.

There was not much warning before Jungkook slipped inside you. But it did not matter. Your body welcomed him with no struggle, having become far too thirsty for his touch in the weeks of your separation.

Out of all the times you'd made love, this was by far the most intimate. Jungkook love and caressed you with an inhuman infatuation in his eye, groaning any time you'd so much as look into his eyes as he pounded into you.

"Oh, my Psyche ... Love you so much ... Always loved you. Always needed y-you, oh fuck ..." his eyes closed in pleasure, pressing his face into your neck to breathe you in. His hips were incorrigible, with Jungkook being far too drunk with lust to have any finesse in his movements.

"My Jungkook ... My Cupid ... You pretty angel, I missed you so much, so- oh, so much!", you cried, your eyes becoming clouded with tears all while your nails dug into his back. You could feel the scars from which his wings would retract, caressing them softly.

"Oh ... Oh, angel, d-don't do that- My wings are too sensitive, my Psyche, d-don't ..."

This only encouraged you to do it more, caressing his erogenous zone softly and sensually, causing him to cry against your ear, whimpering in an ungodly way that had your eyes rolling back at just the sound.

Your pretty angel babbled against you, letting out nonsensical rambles about how much he loved you and how he could never let you go again. How he would breed you and give you an heir and bring you both to the land of the Gods with him.

Practically sobbing against each other, still grinding like mindless animals, the two of you found your highs together, continuing to stimulate each other throughout the entirety of your orgasms. Your mutual whimpers filled up the room, making the experience all the more erotic.

Finally, you two laid against each other, breathing heavily as you refused to let go of one another.

You were still beat and battered from your weeks in search of your Cupid, but that was the last thing on your mind. All you cared about was holding onto Jungkook and never letting go.

Holding you even closer against him, Jungkook wrapped himself around you, pulling out with a groan as he spooned you in his arms, breathing in your hair and humming against you. He reassured you about any worry you may have had in regards to your future together, assuring you that your injury to him had fully head and that he could never hold any type of negative feeling towards you for long.

You no longer would have to worry about his mother's schemes, Jungkook assured, as he would go to Zeus himself to grant you immunity amongst all Gods. He'd convert you into a Goddess yourself, he promised, so that he could give you a heavenly heir and grow old with you until eternity. Nothing in this world could ever separate Cupid from his beloved Psyche. Jungkook would never let anything keep him away from his one and only beloved.

"I adore you, my Psyche, my beautiful ruin. I will always protect you," he sighed one last time, eyes growing heavy as you turned around in his arms and cuddled against his warm chest.

"I love you my Cupid," you kissed at the small burn mark the oil of your lamp had left, humming against his chest.

You fell asleep calmly in each other's arms, knowing you'd wake up to an eternity of love between one another.

a/n: im sorry if the pacing seems all over the place but i promise this is how the original story goes 😭

to read short 3.3k word continuation (+ all other previously written bonus content) you can go join my jk monthly tier on kofi or patreon!

content: afab reader, continuation and conclusion of the cupid and psyche lore/story (this is kinda like a pt. 2 honestly oops), impregnation, mentions of oral, jungkook is obsessed with reader its insane, pregnancy sex implied (but not really bc its after one day of the insemination lol), jungkook is a god so yk endless sex, smut, penetrative sex (like three times lol), etc.

wc: 639 (teaser); 3313 (full drabble)

sneak peak:

"Hmm, my beautiful Psyche," hummed Jungkook against you, stretching his body before cuddling further into you, absolute bliss in his voice.

After a night of extraneous love-making, Jungkook finally awoke in your arms, a smile instantly making its way onto his face at the remembrance of the previous night.

After having brought you back to the palace he built for you, he made love to you, finally able to look into your eyes as you both lost yourselves to the pleasure found in each other's touch. The thought of your gorgeous whines for him still made him shudder, having to will his boner away at the memory.

Then he thought about everything else that had happened since your separation.

He recalled all the trials you had gone through this past week, all to gain access to his heart, a heart that had belonged to you from the moment he laid eyes on you. It was hard not to feel immense guilt at knowing how badly you had struggled from the moment he left you alone in that palace, too hurt and stubborn to realize that your love for him would have you risking your life just for one more chance. In hindsight, he should've understood, specially considering that his own heart burned for you harshly enough for him to want to give up his Godly powers for you if he so had to.

Then he remembered the worst part of it all.

His mother was still seething with vengeance for you, not having found satisfaction in your death while completing her useless tasks. Jungkook knew that she never meant to even consider giving her blessing for the two of you to be together. It had all been a ruse to make you find your demise under the false pretense that you would somehow earn Jungkook's forgiveness by the end of it all.

What you didn't know was that Jungkook didn't need to forgive you. His love for you overpowered every other fleeting thought in his brain. One look from your remorseful eyes and he would be on his knees, begging you for forgiveness.

He pondered as he watched you sleep in his arms, blissful yet still wounded by your weeks of pain.

How shall he make up for all the suffering you endured while he recovered from his wound? How could he make amends for making you think for even one second that he'd dare try and live without you by his side?

His experience as a carnal lover had not prepared him for such feelings. There had been no training or preparation for him to understand the way you made his heart rush, the way you altered every aspect of his being.

All he could think about was how you were his beautiful Psyche and how ... how badly he wanted to put an heir in you.

The thought had seemed been sudden, but he had actually thought of it from the moment he found you waiting for him in bed that first night. You, full for him, manifesting the greatest form of love as you grew his seed inside you.

An heir would be the solution to all problems.

An heir would bring you an instant pass to the land of the Gods, forcing Zeus to turn you into a Goddess in order for you to birth a Godly child. It would also make his mother accept the gift he'd bring upon her, unable to deny a child created by the God of love himself. Lastly, this heir would also be his own gift to you – a showcase of his endless love for you and the future he was to create with you.

But most of all, it would quench the thirst Jungkook was currently feeling at the mere thought of marking you as his as humanly possible.

...

find the 18+ continuation on kofi or patreon!

if you have trouble finding it on there, just let me know!!<3

#bts fanfic #bts smut #bts x reader #bts scenarios #bts imagines #jungkook scenario #jungkook smut #jungkook fanfic #jungkook scenarios #jungkook x reader

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monster-disaster · 1 year

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[tentacle] The monster under the bed

tentacle!monster x human!Reader Good to know: somnophilia, a bit of dub-con

Summary: Your aunt's house is not as empty as you thought.

A/N: For kinktober 2023, I have a new town full of monsters. Here is the masterlist.

The change in the air is thick and heavy after you leave the Welcome to Grimbrook sign behind you. You feel it in your core. It's cold and silent. For a second, everything goes quiet, and the time seems to stop. The rumbling of your car gets muffled, and the colors of the lush, green forest at your sides fade into a milky fog flowing above the ground. You can't see the tall mountains and their sharp edges in the distance anymore. The clear blue sky turns gray, and you can't find the sun anymore, either. Just a few dim rays shine down on the road in front of you, showing your way to the village next to the sea.

As you get closer, you can smell the salty scent of the water even through the closed windows of your car. It's heavy in your nostrils. The sound of the waves gets louder too. From the top of the uphill, you can see the village with its old stone buildings and the sea behind everything. It seems colorless, merging into the dark sky at the horizon. It is beautiful and terrifying at the same time. There is something in Grimbrook that you can't pinpoint but freezes your insides. The only light you can see comes from a lighthouse at the edge of a cliff. It emits a soft, rhythmic beam of yellow light that cuts through the heavy fog, casting eerie shadows over the still village. Seagulls glide through the mist above the white seafoam, waving across the dark surface.

"Okay," you hum, forcing your eyes to go back to the GPS on your phone. The blue line clearly shows your way to the house you have to reach before night falls. It leads you out of the center of the villages until you reach a small suburb with Victorian houses standing in a long row with grand iron gates and gardens.

The monotone voice of the GPS informs you when you reach the right house, and after sitting in your car for a few more minutes, you have no other option but to get out and make your way up to the porch. The wooden planks creak under your steps as you look around a bit better. The house is old, with tall walls, characterful windows, and a dark green door with a golden knocker in the middle. It's cold in your hold as you knock it against the door.

You don't get an answer, though.

The door opens, and you find yourself facing a narrow foyer with stairs on the right side. Pictures and paintings hang on the walls in dark wood and golden frames. You can see the entrance of the kitchen at the end. And on your left side, there is an arch that leads you to the living room.

"Hello?" You break the silence. Your voice is hoarse and quiet. You have to force your legs to move and not turn back to your car and leave this place immediately. "Somebody?" Your gaze lands on a small table in the corner next to the entrance door. There is a letter with your name on it.

Dear Cat, I'm sorry I can't be here when you arrive. Make yourself at home, and we will talk tomorrow. Delilah

"Great," you sigh, letting the paper fall back onto the surface of the small table.

For a second, you think about searching for a hotel or something similar to spend the night, but to be honest, it doesn't sound much better either. You know you should leave the town to feel better, but it's not an option. So you close the door behind you and wander further into the house.

You got a call a few weeks ago about your aunt you met long years ago. She died, and now you have a house. You can keep it. You can sell it. Whatever you want.

The house is old, with a lot of wood, dark colors, and golden details. There are still newspapers from months ago on the coffee table in the living room. The rug under you is faded and thin. The floor creaks every now and again. There are two rooms and a bathroom upstairs. The bigger room is still occupied with your aunt's belongings. The scent of her perfume still lingers in the air. You remember her when you were a kid. She came to your grandmother's funeral, and you never saw her again. Nobody really talked about her in the family. The only things you know are that she was kind but preferred her own company above everything else. She lost her husband in her late twenties but stayed in Grimbrook, barely leaving the town.

The guestroom is much more bare than the other parts of the house. A bed in the middle with two nightstands and a lamp. There is a drawer in front of it and a mirror on the wall. The window is slightly open, letting in the cold autumn breeze. You have a view of the street from here. It's calm and empty. The only reasons you know you are not the only person in the town are because you can see a few cars here and there and a dog barking in the distance. The fog is thick and heavy. You can't see the end of the street through it.

After wandering around the house some more, you decide to call your friend until you have no other option but to change and try to get some sleep.

Climbing up on the bed in the guest room, you settle under the thick covers. The scent of the linen is faded and mixed with dust and the night air coming through the window. It's dark outside, not counting a few lamps on the street. Their orange lights filter into the room. And everything is quiet. So quiet that your ears almost start to ring. You are not used to it. You live in the city with constant noises.

When sleep takes you, it's restless and everything but relaxing. You fidget and turn, trying to find a comfortable position as you balance between the darkness and the real world. Your head feels just as foggy as Grimbrook, and at some point, you can't decide if you are dreaming or not.

You are on your back, one arm on your stomach, and the other is next to your body. The autumn breeze caresses your skin, moving up from your feet to your ankles and calves. Shiver runs through your spine at the feeling. You want to reach out for the blanket, but even though your arms move, they do not obey your command. Something pets the thin skin of your wrist. It's soft and barely noticeable. You feel your muscles stretch as you reach up to the headrest of the bed, but you don't even know why. The cold moves up further on your legs. It curls around your flesh, spreading you in the middle of the bed. Your heels dig into the mattress. Your body tenses when your limbs don't do as you want. A frown deepens between your brows.

"What?" A hoarse grunt leaves your lips. When you open your eyes, you meet darkness, and you are not sure if you are really awake or not. Your eyelids are heavy, and not even a second later, you fall back asleep again.

The bottom of your pajama slips down on your legs. The waist stretches around your parted legs. Something slides up on your stomach under your t-shirt. It is slick and soft. A gasp echoes in your room when it flicks your nipple. The thing curls around the flesh of your tits, groping and caressing. Your nipples harden under the strange touch. Saliva? A tongue?

Where are you?

And there is something else between your legs. The muscles of your thighs tense, and the hold around you tightens.

"What?" You groan again into the silence. As you look down on your body, you see your t-shirt around your neck. Your breasts are bare. Something dark and purple curls around them, squeezing and licking. The teasing on your nipples is almost painful. At the back of your mind, you want more. Your head falls back onto the pillows, and you are asleep again.

The tentacles between your legs move up and down on your pussy. Your panties are ruined between your wet center and the slick touch of theirs. One of them flicks your clit. Your back arches at the feeling. The cold night air hits your aching pussy when the thin fabric is pulled aside. One of them stays around your clit, flicking and rubbing the hard bud. The other one goes straight to your hole.

You want to move. To get closer or farther away, you can't decide. The tendrils don't let you go anyway.

You break the silence with a sudden moan. The limb enters you slowly. It slips into you easily, stretching your walls until you can't take another inch. It fills you up.

"Fuck," you groan.

Your breasts are soaked. The slickness on your skin shines under the dim streetlights. The tentacles play with your flesh, rubbing and pinching your nipples. The pain takes your breath away every now and again until you feel dizzy.

The others between your legs move without pausing even for a second. Your clit throbs, and your walls flutter. Pleasure flares inside your veins, rushing through your body with such force you never felt before. Your lungs burn for air, and your muscles ache as you lay taut, panting.

When you open your eyes, you see the ceiling and the old lamp hanging above you. You want to force your mind to think, to panic, to do something, but your senses are full of pleasure. The only thing you can do is moan and grind against the tentacle inside your pussy. It pounds into you, reaching every spongy spot inside that makes you see stars and beg for more. The sheet under you is soaked with your mixed juices. You can feel it dripping out of your hole.

Fuck, you want to shout, but you can't find your voice. You just shake and tremble in the hold of the limbs keeping you in place on the bed. Every nerve in your body is on edge, and when it snaps in your lower stomach, you can't remember how to breathe. Your climax forces you down and stops you from moving. A thin layer of sweat shines on your bare skin. Heat burns you from the inside, and your pussy flutters and sucks on the tendril inside you. It still moves in and out. It twitches and rubs against your walls. And doesn't stop even when the darkness envelopes you again.

When you wake up the next morning, you need a few minutes to remember where you are. The sun shines through the window, casting an orange hue over the old rug in the middle of the room. As you sit up, your t-shirt falls back over your torso, but your pants are still around your knees.

"What?" You grunt out. The question is barely louder than a whisper. Your hand shakes as you reach down between your legs. Your pussy is wet, sensitive, and swollen. A moan escapes you when your fingertip slides over your slit.

Your dream is still vivid in your mind. You can feel the tentacle in your pussy, using your hole and rubbing your clit. Your center starts to throb with need at the memory. And your breasts. Your other hand grabs one of your tits. Your nipples are still hard peaks through the thin fabric of your shirt.

"Hello? Cat?" The sudden noise snaps your head up to the door of your room. The voice comes from the entrance of the house. "It's Delilah." "Hey!" You croak out. You are not even sure if she can hear you. "I will be down in a minute." "Great!" She shouts back. "I will make some coffee, and we can talk about your plans with the house." Your fingers sink into your hole. You are still stretched out. You move in and out of your pussy easily.

Yeah, you think, you need a few nights if you want to decide about your plans.

- Masterlist Grimbrook Masterlist Patreon

#monster romance #monster x reader #monster boyfriend #monster x human #monster smut #tentacle smut #tentacle x reader #tentacle x human #tentacle monster #grimbrook #kinktober 2023

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unspeakable-imagination · 1 month

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Couch Cuddles || Logan Howlette/Wolverine

Kinda a drabble, not to long.

My masterlist is here

Cw:lumberjack logan even though it's not really mentioned, lots of fluff/cuddles, mentions of sex but nothing happens, use of tabacco and alcohol, established relationship, use of petnames, fem reader

SEND IN YOUR ASK REQUESTS, ILL MAKE MORE CONTENT

"I'll be back soon," Logan said as he placed a warm kiss to the top of your temples. "I need to go to work. You know where to find me, right, princess?" You nodded silent.

His eyebrows creased and his lips turned to a small frown. You hardly caught it, but you did."I love you, Logan. Drive safe, okay?"

His mood had shifted the moment the first three words left your lips, and he already felt better. "I will, baby girl." Before you knew it, he was out the door and you were sitting on the sofa, curled in a blanket in the cabin he's built by hand for the two of you.

You'd been living together for a year, and dating for two. Maybe it was a little fast to move in, but he pulled you out of water when it felt like tou were drowning.You were stuck in living a life of manotany and Logan was always looking for some way to make his own exiting. And somehow- he figured that was you.

You weren't sure why- as you really thought you wanted different things than him. You wanted to settle down, maybe even have kids. You wanted to dance in a kitchen and shoo a cat off the table, and watch your kids throw sticks for a dog to chase.

You wanted a life of meangful relationships, not just the one you viewed with Logan. You weren't even sure if you two were considered dating.

You'd never made it official, just kind of- moved in. Sure, you were intimate, you'd discussed being exclusive, and agreed that while you were together- it would just be a simply monogamous relationship, but what kind of relationship was it?

You bristled at the idea of it simply being a situationship. You loved him and the idea of that almost made your heart shatter. Maybe you'd have to talk to him when he came home.

To fill your time, you opted to just sit with a warm cup of tea- you weren't sure what kind, you hadn't paid attention, and a book. It was some silly fantasy story about mutants, monsters, and fairy's. Midevil monster hunters, swords and magic. The white-haired protagonists adopting a cheeky blonde princess and teaching her the ways of his guild.

And you got a good portion through it, with good breaks between meals and some normal daily activities, basic cleaning, laundry, and putting something in the oven for when Logan did finally come home.

The day passed you quickly and by the time you were taking dinner from the oven, a simple cottage pie, Logan's truck rumbled as it pulled to the window and parked in its rightful spot. You watched him run his hands through his hair, you noticed the look on his face, and you watched him light his cigar before he opened the truck door and heave his way out.

Your eyes followed him as he walked past the window , towards the doorway, and lost him as he entered. You quickly averted you gaze and resorted to dishing a heaping pile of the hot meal into two bowls. Grabbing them and weaving past the chairs of the dining table, you brought them to the coffee table where Logan had sat down.

"Welcome home, Lo." It was quiet but you knew he heard you with how he gently perked. He took a deep breath and it was like a calm wave washed over him, the closer you got.

"Hey, darlin'," he started. He watched you place the two bowls onto the table and sit down next to him. He pulled the cigar from his lips and blew his smoke away.

"What are you thinking tonight? Need a drink or some soda? Water?"

"Just a beer is okay, please, love?" You were quick to get it, and your own tall glass of milk. You popped the cap from the bottle and returned to his side. She was already scarfing down his food, starved from the tirless hours he'd been working at the mill. You placed the bottle on a coaster and took your seat beside him.

You took a drink of your milk before you grabbed your own bowl, but paused before you ate. Logan put his fork in his bowl and grabbed your knee, pulling your leg to drape across his own. It made your stomach flutter, and your heart quickened at the smallest but of affection.

Logan was craving your touch most of the day. He felt so desperate for a good day, a real day, a long day with you. He'd been so busy at the mill that he'd hardly had a day off and was itching to spend time with you aside from curling up, wrapping his arms around your waist as you sleep.

He missed hearing your laugh, and missed your smile, even the small ones. He'd missed being around for more than sleep and mornings. Sure, he'd come home and snake his tounge or hips between tough thighs, but that's not what he needed. He needed you. He needed your words.

Eating was mostly silent, peaceful. You'd asked the normal questions, and ge did too. How was your day, what did you do, what did you eat, I missed you.

Logan had long finished his food as you sat there, finishing your last bites. Patting your belly, you sighed. "I'm sure full. Do tou need any more, Lo?"

"No, baby. Let me grab thoes." He'd stood and grabbed both your bowls and him empty bottle, taking them to the kitchen and putting them in the sink and garbage.

He returned and sat down, pulling you closer to his hip."Want to watch a movie, darlin'?" It was a simple ask- but it was the way he asked it thag had you turning to putty in his arms. His lips rested against your forehead, his nose in your hair. He took a deep breath, humming at how good you smelled to him

"No, I just wanna hold you." he was sure he felt his heart stop. That was all he needed from you. He just needed your attention, your love. "But Lo," you hummed. "I need to talk to you about something. Oh no. Oh god no, we're you going to leave him? The one relationship he's had successfully- and he was worried he'd loose you. He pulled his fingers from your hair and leaned backwards onto the couch, but still facing you.

You crawled onto his lap, straddling him, wrapping your arms around his neck and your face buried in his chest. What?

"What you wanna talk about, baby girl?" He said, his hands sliding up your legs and settling around your waist, locking his fingers together to hold you.

"Us," you said, your breah came out shaky, as if you were gonna cry. You raised your head from his chest and looked at him, one right land moving to cup the side of his face. "What are we, Lo?" You sounded so meek and nervous. "I'm so scared that this is just some situationship and i-"

He interrupted you. "What, a situationship? Baby, your going to be my wife." Your heart skipped a beat. Did you hear him right? You hadn't even established dating? Had you missed something

"I- I what?" He groaned. "Fuck, I was going to wait to ask you." He easily lifted you with one of the arms he ticked under you thigh and fished his other hand in his pocket. He'd pulled out a small green box. "It's not all that fancy." Your hand left his face and covered your mouth, your eyes welling with tears.

"Logan," you softly gasped. Once you were sat back comfortably on his lap he opened the ring box in front if you. It was a thing, shiny silver ring with a pretty diamond set into the band. It was simple, charming, and it glimmered. "Logan I love it."

"Hold on, baby. I havnt even gotten the chance you say it. [Name], will you marry me? Can we live the rest of our lives together? I need you to be more than my girlfriend. I need you to be my wife. I need tou to be the mother of our babies." He looked down to the ring, then back up at your face, tears freely flowing from your eyes.

"Yes logan, God yes. I want to marry you, I can't wait. I can't wait for us to have a family." He grinned and took the ring out, grabbing your hand and placing it on your ring finger. You leaned down, curling into his chest, listening to his heart. You sighed.

"I love you, my [Name]."

#logan howlett #logan howlett imagine #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett x you #wolverine #wolverine imagine #wolverine x reader #wolverine x you #hugh jackman #logan x reader #deadpool and wolverine #imagine #logan howlett fluff #wolverine fluff #fluff

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dollyyun · 2 months

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𝐝𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐥'𝐬 𝐤𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬' 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐲 | 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟕.𝟏

SYNOPSIS: Embarking on a new journey was definitely the best decision you have ever made. Ever since your new life started out on the very place you have ever dreamed of visiting, which has now become your reality, everything works in your favour. But you can't deny the fact that deep down inside, you miss the ones who were a major part of your life. Just like that, the universe seems to favour you as you now find yourself in a predicament involving being chased by the very past you thought you had left for good.

PAIRING: non!idols enha hyung line x fem!reader

GENRE: 18+ (mdni), adulthood, reverse harem, dark themes.

WORD COUNT: 26.9k

WARNINGS: profanities, explicit themes, heavy angst, mention of violence, alcohol consumption, manipulation, corruption, toxicity, smuts.

PLAYLIST: Delicate - Taylor Swift, I Don't Wanna Live Forever - Taylor Swift & Zayn Malik, Reminder - The Weeknd, Party Monster - The Weeknd, Bloodline - Ariana Grande, Touch It - Ariana Grande, run for the hills - Tate McRae, Animals - Maroon 5, Lights Down Low - Maejor (feat. Waka Flocka Flame), Rude Boy - Rihanna, Softcore - The Neighbourhood.

PREV (PART 6.3) | NEXT (PART 7.2) ✘ SERIES MASTERLIST ✘

-smut warnings under cut-

smut warnings: unprotected sex (no!), dom!enha, mild switch!jake, mild switch!reader, name calling, degradation, knife play, manhandling, bondage, blowjobs, throat-fucking, fingering, nipple play, pussy slapping & eating, anal, double penetrations, edging, crying, squirting, creampies, breeding kink, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, threesomes-fivesomes.

After hectic weeks of appeasing clients’ finicky demands and exceeding their expectations, which ensued in you receiving a scant sleep, you are more than deserving to pamper yourself for your competence and industrious work once more. By pampering, it means heading over to the upscale bar downtown to meet up with your best friend whom you haven’t seen in weeks due to respective work and interests.

Besides, what better way to spend your Friday night than to drink to your heart’s content and get wasted with your best friend? Well, maybe not too wasted, considering that your alcohol tolerance has significantly improved over the course of your engagement in spiritious refreshments.

Oh, the lovely irony of how the old you would never have indulged in such indecorous engagement and would totally reprimand the new version of you. Yeah, the old you, as in the saint you once were. Now that you think about it, a lot has changed, including you.

You hold back a chuckle, your lips pressing together to form a smile that exhibits your amiability towards the refined patrons passing by you, who in return reciprocate the same courtesy to you as you step aside for them to exit the establishment. One of the many things you appreciate here is that the locals are friendly, including your fellow residents in your apartment building. There is never a day where not a smiling face greets you wherever you go.

As soon as you infiltrate further into the establishment that is furnished with lavish decors and embellishments, your keen eyes glide across the throng of patrons luxuriating and mingling with each other before they land on a certain brunette glammed up in voguish-worthy apparel, who is seated by the end of the extensive booth.

With a smile on your tinted lips, you proceed to make your way towards her, your hurried steps displaying your enthusiasm in finally meeting your best friend, who also turns out to be a saviour, or maybe even a guardian angel. Without her, you know that you wouldn’t have survived on your first arrival here a year ago.

Yes, it has been a year since you decided to wipe the slate clean and embarked on your new life in Milan, Italy — the city you’ve always dreamed of travelling to, which has now become your reality, or perhaps even better now that you have decided to live here.

“Y/N!” Yunjin, or rather Jennifer, heartily greets you with a dazzling toothy-smile as soon as she turns around. Initially, it felt weird to call her by her English name since you were more than accustomed to her Korean name throughout the years you have known her, but you decided to comply with her insistence.

“Jen!” You reciprocate the heartfelt greeting, your face beaming with a smile as she latches her arms around you to give you a bear-crushing hug before you exchange cheek kisses with her.

As she examines you, her eyes gleam with approval that aligns with the smile on her lips. “Girl, I swear you look prettier than the last time I saw you. I absolutely adore your dress!”

Warmth tingles in your chest, taking pride in your newfound fashion taste. It really isn’t anything special as you are dolled up in a simple off-shoulder ruffled-waisted black dress that reaches way above your knee length, but to hear a compliment from the very person who has been a tremendous help throughout the beginning of your journey feels rewarding, especially after you took many of her advices to heart.

“Thank you.” Your sincerity shines through your tone and crescent-shaped eyes. “You don’t look bad yourself. Dazzling as ever on this fine evening. Makes me wonder why you didn’t opt to work as a fashion designer instead.” You merely jest, casting her a smirk as you slide over next to her high seat.

Jennifer rolls her eyes. “I love dressing up, not designing. There’s a difference.” She states, to which you brush off since you know your best friend that much, while you flag down the bartender and give her your drink order.

As Jennifer begins the flow of your conversation, your eyes soften as you look at the animated glow in her demeanour. It seems that you’re not the only one who has changed much. The Yunjin you once knew back in Seoul is still there, but there is something different about the Yunjin in front of you. She has this specific glow and in the way she carries herself now that you can’t put into words to describe. It is almost as if back in Seoul, she didn’t have the chance to release her fullest potential, or perhaps the real her.

Of course, she didn’t, especially when you knew that she wasn’t exactly happy back in Seoul as she had to live with her mother and stepfather against her will. As it turned out, her parents got divorced during the period when you lost contact with her in your adolescence years, and initially, she didn’t want to leave Milan, where her father had been a permanent citizen here, but her mother won custody over her. Hence, you two meet again at the start of university.

Now that her mother has long since focused on her stepsiblings, Jennifer used this opportunity to return to her father in Milan. As for her father, you recall the first time you met him just a few days after your arrival here, and you admit how greatly intimidated you were by his imposing figure beneath the thousand-dollar polished suit as well as his steely demeanour when he scanned you from head-to-toe.

But soon enough, after Jennifer formally introduced you to her father, he finally recognised you as his daughter’s childhood best friend, and so his steely demeanour melted, replaced by something so fatherly that he cordially welcomed you with a big smile and a hug.

Aside from her mother’s wealth, it makes sense why your best friend has an abundance of wealth, as her father is an esteemed CEO who oversees all business operations across multiple diversions in the fashion industry in Milan, including organising the semi-annual popular Milan fashion week. Thanks to the powers and connections he wields, he manages to secure a career for his beloved daughter, ensuing her position as an international marketing specialist, to which is her ability to perform remarkably ever since, thanks to her degree in international business.

Whenever you see the sweet, endearing interaction between the father and daughter, a fleeting yet profound sadness hits you, accompanied by envy, as they remind you so much of the dynamic between you and your father. It does make you want to return to Seoul on impulse, but you know you can’t when your resolve to be here is permanent.

Plus, you have a career now, and you owe it all to Jennifer and her father, who helped you from the start after you mapped out your options of which career path you truly desire most. Honestly, there was none, but you obviously couldn’t live here without any income, and you felt awful for having to spend Jennifer and her father’s wealth despite their insistence, as they had pure intentions to help you get on your feet and stabilise yourself.

After much deliberation, you decided to pursue a career that is obviously equivalent in value with your degree in journalism. Hence, you are a freelance writer who is completely diverse and wields prowess in the field that you are specialised in. It was a rocky start, but eventually you gained momentum.

You have grown to love your job because not only do you have flexibility in choosing projects, setting your own schedules, and working from various locations, but this job also allows you to meet new people, aka your clients. Since your line of work involves socialising, you don’t really feel as timid as you were before, and instead, meeting different people elevates your self-confidence. Even more when your clients always seem to leave with satisfactory written all over them as well as in their feedback due to your top-notch professionalism.

You didn’t earn much in the beginning, but now, with your experiences and continuous improvement in your expertise, you earn more than you expected, for which you are thankful as your income keeps you going here, especially when you have every intention to repay Jennifer and her father, although they will always refuse whatever you wish to repay them.

Genuinely, from the bottom of your heart, you will always feel eternally grateful to Jennifer and her father. Without them, you would’ve lived out in the streets instead of the sumptuous three-room apartment, which the father-daughter duo decisively chose for you despite your objection to their generosity once more.

From the moment you first stepped into the vacant apartment and spotted the balcony situated adjacently at the living room, you immediately fell in love with the picturesque metropolitan that looked even more vibrant at night, as it was exactly what you had envisioned of your dream apartment with a stunning view to wake up to. Plus, where you live is a thirty-minute drive away from the renowned Galleria Vittorio Emanuele II.

Although your new residency falls under the deluxe category, you tried your utmost by furnishing and decorating your apartment more homely, albeit there is a discernible emptiness you can’t seem to disregard amidst everything that you have put effort into your new residency, especially when there is an annoying throb in your heart.

Nevertheless, you feel content because you have everything you need now — a job, a place you call your sanctuary, a father figure who cares and loves you like you’re his own daughter, best friends who have been incredibly supportive of you even if two of them are across the globe. Plus, you are independent now, including the fact that your mental health has long since significantly improved thanks to Jennifer’s suggestion to seek therapy from professionals.

No longer are you tormented by the dark, unpleasant memories from your old life in Seoul that used to haunt you every day and night in the rocky start of your new adventure here. No longer are you allowing anyone to trample over you and question your own worth.

Everything in your life right now is simply bliss, never mind the fact that you haven’t had sex ever since them, although there are times where you need to indulge and gratify your unabating libido, to which you brazenly bought a rather special rose vibrator. Sure, you did go to nightclubs, be it alone or with your best friend, and make out with hot strangers, but you didn’t go as far. You knew that no one could ever satisfy you the way you wanted, or maybe a part of you so deep didn’t want to betray them.

Your eyes harden as you place down the glass a little harder on the counter booth, drawing your best friend’s attention. “Hey, are you okay?” Jennifer asks softly, her eyes examining your countenance, which you swiftly mask with a deceptive facade as you cast her a smile.

“Of course. I was just thinking about this one prissy client of mine.” You lie through your teeth, forcing out a chuckle, and thankfully, she seems to buy it before proceeding to continue where she left off.

Ugh, why are you even thinking about them? You are very content with everything you have now, and you have been doing perfectly fine without them for about a year now.

Before you can get too carried away to delve into it, your attention is drawn to Jennifer, whose eyes light up as she looks over your shoulder with a smile on her countenance, prompting you to look as well, only to be met by two familiar males looming over your figures, each decked out in distinct yet voguish-worthy apparel just the same.

“What a lovely evening coincidence. Are you ladies sure you didn’t stalk us?” One of them teases; his pink plump lips stretch into a charming smile while his eyes dart between you and Jennifer.

Jennifer scoffs with the corner of her lips curving. “It should be the opposite, don’t you think, Wooseok? Seriously, out of all the places.” She shakes her head before flickering her gaze at her cousin. “What are you doing here, Eunwoo? I thought you were flying to Venice.”

The aforementioned raven-haired male adorns a smile on his face, shifting his gaze from your face to Jennifer. “It turns out that I won’t be needing to fly to Venice any time soon.”

“So, mind if we sit with you?” Wooseok inquires, ignoring Jennifer’s disbelieving yet playful glare as he settles next to her while Eunwoo invites himself next to your booth.

Right, you have forgotten to add these two handsome guys that have now become acquaintances in your new life here. Byeon Wooseok and Cha Eunwoo.

Just like any other person, you were quite taken aback by their striking visual when Jennifer introduced you to them. Of course, you felt a tad timorous of being in the presence of two charming men with distinct allures, but as time passed by, you have grown comfortable with them and their wits. Apparently, Eunwoo is Jennifer’s cousin from her father’s side, whereas Wooseok is Eunwoo’s best friend since birth. According to Eunwoo, he and Wooseok come as a package.

You recall when Jennifer attempted to match you with her cousin, resulting in you going for a date with Eunwoo, only because Jennifer was adamant and both you and Eunwoo wanted to get it over with to see if you two were compatible.

It turned out that you were better off friends with him despite the fact that there are times where you do playfully flirt with him and Wooseok, but that’s how the dynamic has always been with them in your friendship circle. Plus, they care for you and see you as their female friend only.

Sure, both Eunwoo and Wooseok are charming gentlemen who also oversee their family business, and they are more than capable of providing for you, but your heart doesn’t beat for any of them the way it did before with certain individuals, not even a fluttery sensation.

Your heart is adamant, and as much as you hate to admit it, no one can come close to and ever be compared to the four individuals who are now in the past that you have long since put behind you, but why are you even thinking about them now after all your efforts to forget them?

You are very content with the present, so why the fuck is there a palpable longing in your once-shattered heart that you had mended yourself? After so long, why now?

Gripping the glass of cocktail, you proceed to down the liquor rather gluttonously, drawing their attention to you by your abrupt vigour as they watch you with quizzical eyes.

“Slow down. You’ll choke yourself. You can always order for more.” Eunwoo’s gentle reprimand does nothing to dispel the ache you can feel in your chest.

Perhaps rather than effacing everything about them, you repressed every feeling, thought, scent, and face of theirs so deep in the trenches that you have grown accustomed to the point where you are in denial.

“Oh, definitely. Bartender!” You flag down for the bartender again to give her the previous order and double them, earning bewildered stares from your friends.

“Someone is eager to get drunk tonight.” Wooseok comments, oblivious to the fact that you are actually drowning out your sorrows as he watches you take a swig in awe.

“Y/N, I think that’s enough.” Eunwoo attempts to snatch away one of the glasses, but you snappily swat his hand away as you shoot him a scowl. He heaves a sigh before catching Jennifer’s gaze and spotting a flicker of understanding in her eyes as she examines you.

Jennifer has an inkling that something must’ve bothered you, and she doesn’t comment on it, knowing that she’ll only worsen things. She catches Eunwoo’s questioning gaze and shakes her head, conveying her disapproval to leave you be.

“Relax. I have high alcohol tolerance, remember?” You tell him, merely casting him a lazy grin that doesn’t reach your eyes before bringing the glass to your lips again.

It isn’t long when Jennifer receives a call that requires her to head back to her office since she left some important documents that she intended to bring back home while Wooseok offers her a ride, to which she gratefully accepts before bidding you a goodbye, now leaving you alone with Eunwoo.

Heck, you even seem to forget that the older male is still seated next to you as you are preoccupied with your disoriented mind while downing glass after glass of Milano Torino uninhibitedly, hoping that the alcohol will dispel the yearning ache in your chest, until he decides to break the ice after observing you.

“You’re obviously not fine.” Eunwoo points out, his eyes meeting yours and noticing how they seem to glisten with inexplicable emotions under this resplendent lighting. “Talk to me. What is bothering you?”

“I’m fine. You don’t have to play therapy with me.” You scoff out, looking away from his intent gaze to finish up your fifth glass. For a moment, there is silence while the background fades into insignificance, only the sound of your heartbeat in your ear as you stare into oblivion with hollow eyes.

Then suddenly, you feel something nudges you into confiding in Eunwoo, or maybe just allows him to gain a miniscule insight into your concealed vulnerability, even though you swore that you would never allow anyone to catch a glimpse of that vulnerability of yours after establishing an adamantine bearing.

Yeah, this has to be the alcohol-thinking that got your mind into a state of chaos. It seems like your high tolerance decides to betray you tonight.

“Have you ever been in love?” The question leaves your lips against your will before you can stop yourself. Oh, who are you kidding? There is no stopping, especially when you can feel the influence of alcohol affecting your whole being.

Eunwoo’s dark eyebrows jump up in surprise at the unexpected question, though he feels a tad amused by it, as evident in the way his lips form into a wistful smile. “I have, but it’s been years since we decided to break off the engagement and parted ways.”

It isn’t entirely surprising to you that Eunwoo had been in a relationship, especially with a divine face card like his. You hum in acknowledgement, languidly bringing another glass of liquor to your lips. “So what caused the rift in your relationship?” You decide to distract yourself by focusing on him instead.

A flicker of sadness is palpable in his eyes amidst the glistening reminiscentness before he looks down at his half-empty whiskey. “She wasn’t ready to be fully committed and didn’t want to move our relationship to the next level because she still wanted to travel and enjoy what the world had to offer.”

You can’t resist rolling your eyes at his statement. “She could’ve still travelled and enjoyed it even after tying the knots with you. It’s definitely her loss, then. You’re a total package. Rich and handsome.” You state rather bluntly.

Eunwoo heaves a sigh, unfazed by your monotonous flattering remarks. “It’s fine. We ended on good terms anyway. Now, your turn. Have you ever been in love?” He bounces the question back to you.

You feign a wince, scrunching your nose lightly while you dismiss the way your heart throbs painfully. “Tricky question. I don’t really know how to answer that.” You say brusquely as you suddenly find your glass rather interesting.

Eunwoo scoffs lightly, his eyes narrowing at you in suspicion. “More like you’re trying to dodge the question. Why are you afraid of answering?”

You can’t help but feel snappy. “I’m not afraid. I just feel like it’s a stupid question.” You tell him with a scowl on your face. “Forget what I asked earlier. Let’s just pretend that this conversation didn’t happen.”

“You’ve been in love before.” It isn’t a question, to which you feel as though his proclamation smacks you in the face, and when your wavering eyes meet his, he knows that he is right.

Despite the fact that Eunwoo manages to break through the equanimity you vehemently try to retain, your demeanour remains one of indifference as you look away from his invasive eyes. “It was a mistake of mine that I don’t intend to make again.” You utter dryly before taking another swig of your liquor.

Eunwoo winces lightly, recognising the fleeting heartbreak in your icy-glimmering eyes. “Was it that bad?”

“It’s complicated. We weren’t exactly in a relationship, but─ “ You grimace, refusing to make a trip down memory lane. “Let’s just say I was the one who removed myself from their lives permanently of my own accord. It was for the best.”

“Them?” Eunwoo raises his eyebrow inquisitively. “So there was more than one person you fell in love with?”

You narrow your eyes at him accusingly. “Is that judgement I sense?”

Eunwoo raises his hands up defensively. “Hey, I was merely curious. Besides, it’s totally normal for you to fall in love with more than one person. You can’t help with who you love.”

“You’re just saying that to make me feel better.” Your lighthearted chuckles carry an undercurrent of bitterness. “You would’ve seen me differently if you knew of my past, but unfortunately for you, I’m not one to recall what I’ve tried so hard to bury.”

“Trust me, whatever past you had, I would still see you the lovely and elegant Y/N Kang just as you are now.” Eunwoo reassures you, offering you a small smile as he pats your head gently before glancing down at his wristwatch. “I would love to listen to your whole life story, but it’s getting late and I have work the next morning.”

“Boooo. Only fools like you work on a weekend.” You make a face at him, to which he responds with a head shake and a chuckle emitting from him. “Seriously, working on a weekend is too excessive, even for you. How are you even going to date someone if you always spend your days at the office? At this rate, you’ll grow old and wrinkly alone because you’re always busy with work.”

“Thank you for your concern towards my dating life. Unfortunately for you, I don’t intend to date anyone anytime soon.” His amusing tone drips with sarcasm as he gets off his seat, adjusting his coat around his body. “Come on. I’ll send you back to your place.”

“Thanks for the offer, but I’d like to stay here a little longer.” You decline, earning yourself a disapproving yet concern frown from him.

“It’s nearly eleven, Y/N. The bar will be closing in a few hours, and it’s dangerous for you to go back alone at night.”

You sigh, getting a tad annoyed. “Eunwoo, I’ve always gone back on my own, and I turned out just fine. Even if someone were to assault me or follow me, I have pepper spray with me, so don't worry.”

Eunwoo hesitates. “But─”

“I also need some time alone to think.” You cut him off, insisting vehemently before softening your tone. “Please.”

Eunwoo eventually concedes, his lips pressing thinly as he stares at you. “Fine. Call me or Wooseok if you detect the slightest danger. I mean it.”

“I will.” You tell him, your tone providing him the assurance he needed before he embraces you with a side hug and proceeds to depart from the establishment, where only a few patrons are left, much to your surprise. Just earlier, there were a throng of them.

You redirect your focus on the two leftover glasses of yours. Pursing your lips, you reach out to grab one before taking leisure sips, and this time, the wave of inebriation hits you harder compared to the previous drinks you had while the liquor sends a burning sensation down your throat that coupled with the emotions you painfully restrain from making any utterance.

Desperate to quell those emotions, you take a last swig of your drink rather aggressively before placing down the glass and wiping the excess moisture from your upper lip. But it doesn’t help. Instead, you feel the restrained emotions breaking into a tumult that racks through your body.

Fuck, you should not have thought about them in the first place, especially when they trigger something in you that feels like a kill switch. Oddly, tears never spring up in your eyes, but rather, you feel wholly numb that even the goosebumps arising on your skin due to the lack of warmth layer clothing to barrier the temperature doesn’t deter you.

Maybe it was a good idea for Eunwoo and the others to leave you, but at the same time, maybe it isn’t a good idea for you to dwell over your past as the wounds slowly reopen. Maybe, just for tonight, you allow your inhibitions to be let loose as you finally come to admit defeat against your tenacity.

“Ugh, who am I kidding?” You mumble to yourself as you rub your forehead, facing down to the counter.

Yes, you admit that despite the fact that your life is going well, the inhibited part of you truly misses them and influences you into thinking that without them is simply just a cruel existence that you chose to feign ignorance to, when in the deepest depths of your heart, all you ever want is to call their names until they come back home to you.

But after what happened in the past, you are often caught up in a dilemma that keeps you up at night sometimes as you reevaluate every of your choices with one thing stuck in your mind — wondering if you dodged the bullets or just lost the loves of your life.

You wonder at times if they care enough to notice your permanent departure from Seoul, and just when disappointment is about to seep through you, you recall that you had deleted your old contact number as well as your phone in any case they decided to track you down, but considering that it’s been a year, it is more than apparent that you won’t be stumbling upon them since they had no idea of where you truly are now.

A drunkard chuckle leaves your lips at the irony of you thinking and missing them when you were the one who resolutely decided to remove your existence from their lives.

Whenever you walk around in a place full of people, and even now as you scan your surroundings for another time, your subconscious always sees them around in all these empty faces, despite the glow in their demeanour.

In the end, the heart will always want what it wants, no matter how much exertion you put into repressing the dangerous emotions in it.

Feeling an incessant pounding by all the pensiveness as well as the amount of glasses you drank, you opt to rest with your head that gradually feels heavy on your folded arms pressing onto the countertop, facing sideways. You close your eyes, hoping to dispel any lingering thoughts about them, but it is futile because, behind your closed lids, you can see their faces.

You snap your eyes open, only staring blankly at the wall while you can hear the sound of your mended heart cracking. Oh, you are most definitely drunk, because how is it possible that your heart has a palpable longing that hurts so much you can physically feel it?

You want to cry, you do. But it is as though you run out of tears after the times you weeped in your sleep at night in the beginning. Instead, your eyelids feel heavier, threatening to close before you finally yield and allow sleep to take over your vulnerable figure seated by the booth alone.

Though sleep has beckoned, you are still faintly conscious enough to feel something so warm and fairly large enveloping your shivering figure, providing a barrier to withstand the cold temperature, and you swear you feel fingertips tracing down your temple so delicately and warm lips pressing on your cheek before sleep eventually engulfs you whole.

Of course, sleep doesn’t last that long as you find yourself being jolted awake naturally, prompting you to flutter your eyelids open and noticing that you are still in the same bar. The nap was so good that you even find yourself being utterly disoriented.

You slowly raise your upper body with the intention to check your surroundings, but you halt at the moment a familiar cologne hits your nostril emanating from the leather jacket hung over your figure, causing you to freeze in your seat and panic because you recognise his cologne so vividly.

No, this couldn’t be his jacket. There is absolutely no way it belongs to him. You turn around to scan your surroundings with attentive eyes, only to spot a couple seated in the centre of the bar. Otherwise, nothing seems out of the ordinary.

“Excuse me.” You call for the bartender again with an entirely different purpose as she approaches you, noticing how panicked you look. “Have you seen anyone giving me this jacket while taking a nap?”

Much to your surprise, the bartender nods her head, kindling a hope in your chest. “A fine gentleman who also paid for your drinks. It’s a shame that you were asleep. You should’ve seen how handsome that man was.” She gushes dreamily whereas you scratch your head, confused yet terrified at the thought that it could be any one of them, but it is impossible for them to find you, let alone to be in the same bar as you are now.

Positive thoughts, positive thoughts ─ that’s what you keep telling yourself while attempting to calm yourself down. Maybe this jacket belongs to a thoughtful stranger, and the familiar smell of his cologne is just a mere coincidence. Maybe you are being paranoid over nothing.

You give yourself a firm head nod. Yeah, you are most definitely paranoid.

Deciding to head back to your apartment, you quickly book an Uber on your phone while you ignore the fact that you are getting comfortable with the leather jacket hugging you. It isn’t long when your Uber ride has arrived, prompting you to make your departure after thanking the bartender for her service. You don’t know why, but the jacket remains in your possession as it hangs around your figure.

Once you step foot outside of the establishment, you spot the exact plate number as your Uber ride by the curb before you proceed forward. Reaching the black Audi, you are about to open the door to the backseat when you feel a wave of chills through you, and no, it’s not from the breeze.

It is the kind of chill where you feel as though someone is watching you from afar, and you swear you can feel the unknown source of burning gazes that prompt you to look at the car just a few parks away from the pavement curb — a red Lamborghini.

Due to the dim lighting, you squint your eyes in vain as you are unable to make out the person inside the car, but the engine is definitely running. Again, maybe you are being paranoid or just drunk since your head is pounding twice harder now.

You shrug the feeling off before proceeding to enter the black Audi, and you silently thank God that the driver is not the chatty type, allowing yourself to rest comfortably in the backseat and facing the window.

Just as sleep is about to take over you again, you spot something in the rearview mirror. Wait, not something, but the red Lamborghini you saw earlier, revving forward, albeit slowly. Again, you shrug it off, not wanting to freak yourself out over something so trivial, assuring yourself that it is merely a coincidence that the red Lamborghini is heading in the same route as you.

If there is one thing you hate about being able to tolerate any amount of alcoholic consumption is the fact you are not entirely immune to the hangover that strikes you as soon as you groggily wake up.

The pounding headache persists; even after you freshen yourself up as you head to the kitchen, your hair slightly dampens from showering. As you open your fridge to grab a bottle of water, the frown on your lips deepens when the recollection of last night finally hits you.

You clearly remember tossing yourself onto the couch as soon as you entered your apartment, having been enervated from all the drinking and thinking in one night, but when consciousness dawned earlier, you found yourself waking up in your bed and had been neatly tucked under the covers.

Your forehead creases as you think deeply, but your face twists into a grimace when your head throbs again before deciding to cease overanalyzing last night. You shrug your shoulders and close the fridge. Maybe you sleep-walked to your room, which is not surprising considering that last night’s dwelling at the bar was out of your new character as well.

Heaving a sigh, you grab your phone from the kitchen island with the intention to order food after neglecting your grumbling hunger, but the sound of the doorbell chiming sidetracks you. Confusion etches on your face as you make your way to the door, wondering who would pay you a visit at twelve noon.

Definitely not Jennifer, as she would always text you in advance, and definitely not any of your best friends since both are in Seoul, but when you swing the door open, you are proven wrong, standing there with your eyes widened in disbelief at the unexpected yet pleasant surprise.

“Y/N!” Karina heartily greets you, giving you no chance to recover from being greatly stunned by their unanticipated visit in Milan, let alone to be at your apartment, as she lunges for a bear-crushing hug, her arms around you as she squeezes you.

“Girls! What the─” You chuckle in disbelief, your smile stretching wider as Wonyoung joins in the reunion of your much-needed hug from your long-distance best friends. “Not that I’m complaining, but how, why, and what are you doing here? How did you even know my address? I thought you were on your respective business trips.” You inquire, confusion lacing your tone as you recall your conservation last week when you were in a video call with them.

Wonyoung, as elegant as ever, along with her captivating doll-like beauty, beams at you with a smile gracing her cherry-glossed lips. “Well, it’s a lie. Yunjin was the only one who knew about it. Plus, we wanted to surprise you!”

“For your info, she prefers to be called Jennifer now.” You correct her, smiling mirthfully at Wonyoung’s faux annoyance on her countenance.

“Miss Jennifer standing on business as soon as she landed here, huh?” Karina scoffs out playfully before nudging you by the shoulder as the three of you proceed to move further into your apartment. She slings an arm around your shoulder, casting you a grin. “So tell us, what did we miss out on?”

And so you begin to unravel what happened over the course of this week except last night, of course. You don’t want them to worry, and knowing their overprotective nature over you, it is best if some things are kept hidden.

Besides, both of them already have too much on their plates, especially with their respective careers. After graduating with their master’s degrees, they pursued the paths they had created for themselves at the start of university. Wonyoung is now a public relations writer under her grandfather’s company, whereas Karina is a fashion designer under a renowned luxury brand in Seoul.

Having known and seen your best friends thriving in both their lives and careers sends a wave of emotions that render you genuinely proud and elated for them, just as they do to you. No one is happier than your best friends to see the transformative change in you after what happened. To them, you are still the sweet, kind, and compassionate Y/N Kang, but there is a certain ambience of dominance you exude wherever you carry yourself to.

“By the way, we are also here for Milan fashion week.” Karina moves to another topic as the three of you decide to settle by the kitchen island. “Also a surprise since Jen managed to secure invitations for us. You’re coming too, right?” She looks at you with glittering eyes.

“Definitely.” You have long since anticipated attending the famous Milan fashion week, and thanks to Jennifer, you are invited as well as an exclusive VIP guest. The corners of your lips tip up. It is truly a privilege to be associated with someone who has connections to make the nearly impossible happen.

“Where are you girls staying, though?” You inquire, and from the corner of your eyes, you spot Wonyoung ambling towards the living room, probably to admire your apartment, and so you direct your attention to Karina.

“We’re staying at this five-star hotel apartment.” Karina answers, satisfaction emanating from her in the way her face goes animated as she excitedly tells you what has happened. “We’ve only been here for two days, but we can definitely see why you dreamed of travelling to Milan. The food here is amazing, and─”

“Hey, Y/N?” Wonyoung draws your attention, prompting Karina as well to turn around to look at Wonyoung by the living room since the kitchen island is adjacent. “I had no idea you were into flowers.”

“I don’t…” Your utterance wanes as soon as your gaze falls to the bouquet of luscious roses in her grasp, confusion fogging in your head. “Where did you find that?”

“On the coffee table.” Wonyoung’s eyes gleam with fascination as she examines the roses that no doubt are authentic. Even Karina shares the same fascination as Wonyoung, as they immediately gush over how beautiful the roses are. “Judging by the bouquet, it’s obvious that someone must’ve given it to you. So, who is the lucky guy?”

But they are oblivious to the confusion on your countenance that slowly morphs into horror at the vivid recollection of seeing nothing on the coffee table last night before you passed out on the couch. Dread begins to crawl onto your skin, matching the way your stomach churns unpleasantly.

First, it was you waking up in your bed to which you thought you had sleep-walked, then now, the roses that somehow magically appeared on your coffee table? The coincidence is too uncanny, but then the possibility might be true, to which you fear to admit.

No, it can't be that someone has intruded into your apartment when you know it yourself that you had the door locked last night. There was absolutely no way anyone could climb their way up to the highest floor to get to your balcony without falling to their death.

“A friend of mine. Jen’s cousin, actually.” You lie through your teeth steadily, deciding that it’s best if you don’t alarm your best friends. Your eyes narrow at their reactions, already knowing what they are going to say next. “But we aren’t dating or anything like that. Someone gave it to him, and he gave it to me instead since he wasn’t a fan of flowers.”

“Wait, is he the guy we saw once in her background when we were video calling that one time?” Karina’s enthusiastic inquiry is answered by your mere head nod. “Babe, he’s so fucking fine, and I swear he looked straight out of those vogue magazines. You should try dating him.”

“Agreed.” Wonyoung chimes, smiling triumphantly while they remain oblivious to the distress creasing your countenance. “Plus, you’d look good with him.”

A dry chuckle leaves your lips. “Yeah, that’s not happening. He’s a great guy and all, but I’m not interested in him, nor am I interested in dating. I don’t want to risk myself getting another heartbreak after—”

You bite down your tongue, realising that you are getting too carried away and dwelling over the past once more. Seriously, just what is up with you since last night? You promised yourself that you wouldn’t dwell over your past again.

Upon seeing a certain yet familiar sombre casting shadow over your countenance, Wonyoung and Karina exchange knowing glances before Wonyoung decides to step forth. “We’re sorry. We shouldn’t have brought up anything regarding dating.”

You smile faintly at her, denoting your reassurance. “It’s fine. I know you had good intentions, but I meant what I said. I can’t afford to go through another period of heartbreak.” There is a palpable tremor in your voice that doesn’t go unnoticed by them.

There are a couple beats of silence before Karina initiates, her tone is an unwavering resolve. “You know what would make you feel better? Shopping.”

You chuckle, rolling your eyes playfully. “Please. I’ve had enough of that, thanks to Jen.”

“And I’m not having any of that. You still need to give us a tour around here. Now go on and get changed into something more presentable.” Karina shoots you a coy smile as you reciprocate with a scowl, but nevertheless, you comply.

“Here.” Wonyoung thrusts the bouquet of roses into your hands. “Don’t throw it away. It’s too beautiful to be thrown away. You can place it in a vase or something.”

You sigh softly in response. “Fine. Just wait here and make yourself comfortable like it’s your home.” You tell them before quickly making your way to your room as you grip the bouquet.

You admit that you did have an intention to throw these away, but now that you examine them, these roses indeed look authentically beautiful to be thrown away. Entering your room, you head over to the vanity table while looking down to examine these roses once more.

This time, however, your sharp eyes spot something white hiding amid the roses as you examine closely. Indulging your curiosity, you proceed to grab for it, only for you to hold a mysterious white card.

The rational part of you vehemently urges you to throw away the card while you feel a sense of dread creeping up on you before you slowly open the card to read the messages written on it in black ink.

But as you read it, your hand trembles, which match the way every fibre of your being goes haywire, while you can feel your heart nearly dropping to the pits of your tummy.

No, this can’t be from any of them. Heck, they don’t even know where you are, so it is nearly damn impossible for them to find you here out of all places when you cut off their contacts and bought yourself a new phone.

You quickly put aside the bouquet on the vanity table before attempting to occupy yourself in choosing your outfit of the day in your walk-in wardrobe, but it becomes futile when your mind drifts off to the seemingly harmless message that has an undercurrent danger.

‘You’re still beautiful as ever, sweet angel. Just a little while more.’

The weekend passes by quicker than you liked when you spend your time with your best friends, bringing them around to the places that you are familiar with, including your favourite ones, and before you know it, the highly anticipated Milan Fashion Week has arrived.

Eventually, whatever happened back then, in regards to the mysterious roses and the leather jacket that remains in your possession, is overlooked, as you have always been preoccupied focusing on what matters in the present, which is exactly what you needed to retain your sanity.

The moment you step foot into the venue, any remnants of worries dissipate from your mind as your eyes twinkle in fascination at the remarkable fashion appeal of the sophistication encompassing the entire event taking place while there is an elegantly unique ambience teeming in the atmosphere.

Paparazzis as well as reporters can be spotted with their cameras flashing at the exclusive VIP guests, also known as industry insiders — designers from various fashion houses, buyers, fashion writers and editors, gorgeous models, and even celebrities from other countries. Everywhere your eyes sweep over, it is bustling.

Your gaze finally settles on a familiar brunette with her father, mingling with esteemed guests before you nudge Wonyoung and Karina to follow you. Once you reach the father-daughter duo, their attention is immediately shifted to you with the pleasant smiles on their faces stretched wider.

“Y/N!” Jennifer latches her arms around you, giving you a quick squeeze before moving over to enthusiastically greet Wonyoung and Karina while her father steps in to give you a fatherly embrace that you have grown comfortingly accustomed to.

“Hey, sweetie.” Her father greets you softly as soon as he pulls away, and your heart aches once more at how gentle he is, which reminds you of your father. You brush away the melancholy as you give him a smile. “You look outstanding, and I’m sensing my daughter’s touch on your apparel?”

Honestly, you beg to differ from his compliment, not when other guests dressed up to the nines except you. You didn’t want to potentially draw attention to yourself by dressing up too extravagantly, and so with your adamant insistence, Jennifer demurringly chose for you a gorgeous scarlet satin cami dress that accentuated your contours exquisitely, including the fact that you are practically braless underneath, while the colour matches your tinted lips.

You chuckle lightheartedly at the knowingness in his tone. “Of course. My fashion sense is good, but it can’t be compared to Jen’s.” You say, your eyes drifting to your best friends as they are still conversing rather excitedly, considering that the three of them are fashion enthusiasts.

You, on the other hand, are not as passionate as them, but you desire to experience the world-class fashion week that you often see across social media platforms every year. Plus, you’re experiencing this with your best friends, so this is more than you could’ve asked for.

Soon enough, Jennifer’s father withdraws from your mini group to socialise with other businessmen who are most likely his acquaintances, whereas you and your best friend advance forward to finally meet Eunwoo and Wooseok, both of whom had a pleasant dinner with your group yesterday. To say both of them look more charming than they usually do is an understatement, especially when they often draw attention with ogling eyes from the people in your vicinity.

Amidst the overflowing conversation, you take a moment to observe the exuberance in the glow of their countenance, and warmth tingles in your chest at the amiability they exude as they converse with each other. You are more than glad that the two men, despite them being a little older, seem to get along well with the girls.

After posing for some pictures, thanks to one of the cameramen, your group proceeds to head to the main venue, where the fashion runway show will be starting soon. It isn’t long until you and your group have settled in the venue with you seated in between Eunwoo and Wonyoung in the front row, where you are able to view the models in their sophisticated element as they stride on the runway, displaying such professionalism while adorning with unique yet striking apparel.

You most definitely did not expect to be engrossed by the entire runway show, but there is something about these models and the prowess they wield that bewitched you to the point where you don’t seem to notice Wonyoung and Eunwoo conversing with each other closer behind your back for the male to hear her better amidst the background music.

But then goosebumps begin to arise on your skin before you finally sense something, or rather someone’s eyes burning through you. A frown pulls down at your lips as you briefly look over your shoulder, only to see the other guests are occupied with the ongoing runway models.

Your forehead wrinkles in confusion as you decide to redirect your focus to the front. Maybe you are being paranoid, but the sensation of eyes on your figure is unmistakable, prompting you to examine the seated guests across from you.

Yeah, probably nothing, you think. It’s your mind that decides to—

You force yourself to swallow the gasp that nearly leaves your mouth, and you swear you can feel your heart stop beating momentarily while the time around you seems to slow down. You truly want to believe that what you are seeing is simply an illusion that your mind conjured, but as your eyes continue to lock with his, there is a palpable electrifying sensation just by the connection between you and him that slowly intensifies, bringing dread to settle over your transfixed figure.

The corner of his lips curves up into a devilish smirk while his eyes darken with a cryptic purpose, and the worst part is, he’s not alone. You lock eyes with the familiar face seated next to him, whose lips mirror his best friend’s devilry. No, you must be seeing things, but as you blink your eyes for another time, you have come to a harrowing realisation that they are very much real.

The other two are not anywhere seated in their vicinity, to which you feel weirded out because even you know it yourself that the four of them come in a package and are practically inseparable despite their differences. Still, it doesn’t allay your incessant worries just because there are only two of them here.

Jay and Sunghoon. Although they are seated a few rows to the back from across yours, you can see how a year has changed them, be it for the better or worse, but probably the latter. They look even more mature than the last time you saw them.

Despite your collected demeanour, you are shaken terribly to the core with questions bombarding your head. You don’t wish to assume anything, and maybe their being here is merely a coincidence and that they were invited as well considering they are Chaebols just like your best friends, but the shadows casting over their countenance tell you otherwise.

If what you are thinking is true, then how did they manage to find you, and why now after a year? Were they the ones who may have potentially intruded your apartment and given you the roses while you were rendered unconscious?

The way they gaze darkly at you is akin to predators finally catching their prey after the long hunt, with the only exception being that they look ravenous despite their steely, collected demeanour that adds more charms to their distinctive dark allures and visuals.

You refuse to allow their insanely handsome faces to dissuade you from taking a particular course that involves you to elude them at all costs, even when your heart has a fervent throb that feels all too familiar. Longing.

Amidst this unforeseen crisis, you try your utmost to defy against your longing for them, but it is gnawing desperately on the walls you built to protect yourselves from any more disappointments and heartbreak, and you fear to admit that you have indeed missed them, more than you should not have.

Hence, you turn away from their eye contact with a heavy heart, and at the same time, the runway event has officially ended, prompting the VIP guests to mingle around to discuss amiably yet professionally, whereas you find yourself being surrounded by your befriends and trying to keep up with their conversation as well as to go with the flow.

When your eyes shift to where you saw Jay and Sunghoon just moments ago, you find them missing from their spots, as if they were never there in the first place. Nevertheless, you uphold your resolve, and that is to stick close to your best friends, whereas Eunwoo and Wooseok have been whisked away by unfamiliar yet esteemed guests, leaving you with your girls to spend the rest of the day sticking to one another.

Throughout the entire event, as you explore the art exhibitions, pop-up stores, and other luxurious sophistication variety they offer with your best friends, you try your utmost to avoid giving away that you are still shaken up by seeing their faces while your inner turmoil feels endless. Every so often, you would check your surroundings for any sight of them.

Eventually, the night has fallen and the afterparty beckons, to which you wholeheartedly decide to join alongside your best friends and some other guests as you need to let loose the exerting tension in you.

The entire reception is bustling with respective pursuits from the guests, but it is the kind of pursuit where the conversations flow much more colloquially amongst each other while at the same time revelling in the piquant cuisines, various beverages, as well as the music that complements with the classy ambience reverberating throughout the resplendent reception.

Withdrawing from your group, you decide to head over to the beverage section, needing another drink to indulge yourself and invigorating your social battery that is ebbing away. A sigh leaves your lips. At least one thing that remains unchanged is the fact that your social battery is just as weak as it was before unless you ingest alcohol.

As your fingers wrap around the stem of the glass, you raise the glass to your lips and take sips of the champagne. A faint pleasurable hum emits from you as you greedily sips for more, feeling the familiar fizzy sensation within you.

Oblivious to your surroundings, you fail to take heed of the fact that your vulnerability as you stand alone by the beverage section is at anyone’s disposal for whatever intention they have towards you at this very moment.

Just as you place down the empty glass on the table, you feel an ominous presence looming from behind you while the backless of your dress allows you to feel their body heat rather intimately, sending an oddly familiar shudder through your transfixed body. Your breath goes hitched in your throat, feeling their warm breath fanning down on the skin of your exposed shoulder.

“I’m surprised to see you here without your boyfriend.” His voice sounds huskier, laden with desire and an undercurrent of ire, sending a dangerous wave of sensation through you, and yet you can’t help but discern how he sounds more callous than you recall, as though he has been through much.

Right, he is most likely referring to Eunwoo, whom he probably saw how intimately you were dancing with earlier, despite both of you knowing that you don’t see each other that way.

Little did you know that it took every ounce of self-control for him to master upon seeing the way Eunwoo’s hands on your hips as you two swayed to the music, and he wants nothing more than to rip off Eunwoo’s limbs for touching you.

You don’t dare to turn around as he continues to speak slowly just for your ears to hear him. “Don’t tell me that he got bored and ditched you?” His tone drips with piercing mockery that has you clenching your fist. “Cat got your tongue, baby? You know I’m right. He probably can’t fuck you better than I do.”

“You don’t know anything.” You retaliate, your voice sounding foreignly cold in your ears. “For the record, you are not the sex God you think you are. He could probably fuck me better than you ever did.”

You know that you are treading dangerously on the razor-sharp blade with the words you speak so disdainfully and the way his fingers tantalisingly caressing your exposed back speak volumes. “You’re right. I don’t know anything, not since after you left, so shouldn’t you be polite and give me a warm welcome?” He tuts disapprovingly.

“I’m not obliged to do so, especially when you’re nothing but a stranger to me.” You say tersely, hating how your heart aches at the words leaving your mouth so coldly detached, but you don’t want him or any of them to ruin the serenity that has been established in your new life here. You don’t need anymore corruption and toxicity.

Mustering courage, you turn around to face him, your steely eyes meeting his amused yet dangerous ones. You take a brief moment and discreetly examine him up-close, bringing more aches to your heart at how devastatingly handsome he looks than the last time you saw him.

His jet-black hair looks shorter with an undercut, and he has it styled impeccably that displays his chiselled forehead, allowing you to see his vertical left eyebrow piercing that accentuates his sharp steely eyes and the familiar noticeable scar on his bottom lip. His strong cologne infiltrating your senses nearly sends you deflating as you recall all the memories you had with him.

“You’re meaner to me than I was to you before.” He scoffs out, oblivious to the fleeting longing you almost exhibited by the look in your eyes. “You’ve changed, baby. Was it him? Is that why you’re looking at me with such disdain?”

“This isn’t about Eunwoo, and stop calling me baby. You have no right to call me any endearing names, Jay.” You seethe out, gritting your teeth. You hate the flicker of disappointment and hurt in his gaze, but then you recall when you were the one who bore the most wounds in the past. “Like I said, we’re strangers, so I don’t know who you are. If you’ll excuse me, I’m heading back to my friends.”

You don’t give him the opportunity to speak as you brush coldly past him, but just as you do, you fail to realise another figure who has been approaching from behind, causing you to halt in your steps when he latches his hand around your elbow.

You look at him in disbelief as he narrows his eyes at you. “Let go of me, Park Sunghoon.” You utter calmly, trying to tame the storms within you. His touch on your skin feels tingling with familiarity, one that is filled with both ecstasy and longing.

Maybe it’s the aftereffect of your departure from their lives, but you swear Sunghoon looks twice as attractive as you recall. His stark raven bangs fall over his eyebrow, doing nothing to obscure his dark eyes from penetrating into your glaring ones. His grip on your elbow is a silent warning, almost as if telling you to comply with him.

“You don’t want to make a scene in front of these people now, so I suggest you come with us obediently, princess.” His deep voice only seems to intensify the butterflies that awakened against your will, as does the endearment that brings back memories. “Let’s talk like civilised people, yeah?”

“We have nothing to talk about.” Surprisingly, you manage to escape from his grasp, and you quickly put some safe distance between you and him. “If I didn’t reiterate this enough, then let me make it simpler for you to understand. Leave me alone, and don’t you dare do anything to hurt Eunwoo or my friends.”

With one last glare at both of them, you immediately blend through the crowd to return to your friends. You don’t realise that you have been holding back your breath and how tense you look until one of them points out, drawing attention to you.

“Y/N, are you okay?” Jennifer inquires, her eyebrows furrowing with concern as she holds your shoulder. “You don’t look well.”

“I’m fine, but I think I’m going to call it a night.” You give her a small reassuring smile, contrasting how your insides are in a tumult upon your encounter with your past that you thought you had left behind. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll text you once I reach my apartment.”

“I’ll drive you.” Eunwoo offers, earning him an appreciative smile from you before the two of you proceed to bid your goodbyes to your friends.

“You looked pale earlier.” Eunwoo murmurs to you as you walk next to him, making your way to the exit. When his eyes meet yours fleetingly, you recognise the knowingness in them. “What happened?”

“I don’t know what happened and how it happened, Eunwoo.” Your voice sounds dejected despite maintaining your steely demeanour. “But I know for a fact that my past is finally catching up to me.”

The journey to your apartment is a silent ride, which you appreciate much since you need silence to ruminate about what still feels surreal to you. You have an inkling that Eunwoo is more than curious to know whatever you meant earlier, as you can see from your peripheral vision how his eyes frequently dart to you, but hesitation holds him back.

Feeling your head pounding, you grimace lightly as you lean your head to the headrest, facing the window. Just as you have every intention to put your fraught nerves to a temporary ease, your sharp eyesight catches a car in the rearview mirror, bringing a frown to your lips.

Initially, you wanted to ignore and dispel any ill-thoughts of the black Ford Mustang that have been driving in the same route as you, but this can’t be a mere coincidence that it is now heading towards the street to your apartment.

You attempt to calm your nerves that are set ablaze once more, not wanting Eunwoo to notice your discomfort. Obviously, when you saw Jay and Sunghoon earlier, they fucked you up in the mind, so it is highly possible that your paranoia right now stems from your previous encounter with them.

“Thank you. I owe you one.” You thank Eunwoo sincerely as soon as you arrive, trying your best to give him a smile while every fibre of your being is urging you to head inside quickly.

Eunwoo casts you a charming grin. “Nah, you don’t owe me anything. We’re friends. By the way, are you sure you don’t need me to accompany you to the lobby?” He asks, his concerned eyes scanning the rather desolate street through the window.

You shake your head at his thoughtful offer and reassure him with a smile. “It’s fine. The street looks creepy at night, but I’m used to it. Thanks again. I’ll see you whenever.” You bid him good night afterwards before exiting from his car.

You watch briefly as Eunwoo speeds off your street before you turn around with the hurried intention to head inside the building, but you stop dead in your tracks when you spot the black Ford Mustang parked by the curb in your street just a few cars down from where you are.

This time, goosebumps arise on your skin, and you have a strong inkling that this is no longer a mere coincidence. Your harrowing interest piques at the moment the both doors of the car push open, prompting you to hold your breath as you await the reveal.

As soon as you manage to catch glimpses of their identity, or more like their identity being obscured with familiar masks, your pulse begins to drum loudly in your ears while your eyes widen in sheer disbelief. Of course, they would follow you all the way here, but you didn’t expect that they really would, as though to chase after you.

Acting upon your fight-or-flight mode, you immediately hasten to head inside the building without looking back. A brief moment of relief washes over you as soon as the elevator opens automatically before you step inside and press the level you intended to go, which is five floors from where your apartment is situated.

You don’t want to take any risk of them finding out which level you live, or maybe they already know since they might also be the ones who gave you those roses. You take this chance to regulate your breathing, physically and mentally preparing yourself for the incoming exertion as you lean your back against the wall.

Once the elevator chimes as it opens, you walk briskly as you make your way to the door, where the long flight of stairs is by the end of the corridor. You push the door open and waste no time in ascending the stairs. The sound of a door slamming loudly close from below triggers you as it intensifies your perturbation that has your chest tightening.

A growing sense of dread settles over you, bringing forth anxiety that surges through you as it manifests itself in the irregular rise and fall of your chest, while the gradual return of your headache causes an incessant rhythmic pulsating that parallels your pumping heart, nearly impeding you from the pursuit to your newfound sanctuary as you clutch onto the metal railing.

You feel the burning aches in your calves’ muscles as well as your feet, which are adorned in 3-inch stiletto heels, beseeching you for a moment of respite. You come to an abrupt halt just as you finally reach the last flight of stairs, wanting to catch your breath and trying your utmost to silence yourself from making any noise.

It is times like this where you finally question yourself: why on earth did you choose to live at the highest level in the first place?

But then again, you never had anticipated for anything like this to happen. No, you never would have thought that you would be running for your life out of fear again, not since after you departed from your old life and buried the horrible memories where they would never resurface in your mind again.

Despite the persisting fear that grips you, a rousing anger is palpable in you as a muscle pulses in your jaw while your eyes go hardened at the evocative paranoia you thought you had effaced in your mind. Yeah, maybe you are being paranoid. Maybe the car you saw back there was a completely different one than the one following you. Maybe your mind decides to fuck you up again after so long.

Or maybe the influence of alcohol is affecting your sanity, evoking such apprehension that strikes you as paranoid, but if it is, then the reverberating footsteps from below you as they ascend the flights of stairs should not have alarmed you when they probably belong to other residents that live in the same apartment building as you.

You refuse to look down and check their identity, fearing that they would turn out to be the ones you thought you had escaped from. Rallying your erratic nerves, the door just a few metres ahead of you is a beckoning to your pursuit as you set in motion once more, running even when you are still in heels. You push the door open haphazardly, hastening as your feet instinctively guide you to your apartment door by mere muscle memory.

Once you finally reach, you rummage through your purse before grabbing for your key card, but with your trembling fingers, you fumble with it as you attempt to tap your card onto the smart lock. You don’t look back, even when the sound of the exit door where you emerged from is being opened.

As the door chimes familiarly, you expeditiously open the door and shove yourself into your not-so-humble abode before closing the door behind you securely. You dismiss the sound of discernible footsteps from the outside of the door along the corridor, now feeling safe and sound, with a sigh of relief leaving your lips.

Having grown accustomed to the darkness enshrouding your apartment, you resort to normalcy while your rapid heart rate begins to decelerate as you busily store your platform heels in the shoe compartment and place your hand purse on the entryway table before advancing further into your sanctuary.

However, your steps seem to slow down while your stomach begins to churn unpleasantly as you heed to your instinct that vividly senses the eccentric, foreboding atmosphere. Thanks to the broad windows that allow the vibrant cityscape to illuminate your apartment, albeit dim, your eyes adjust to the surroundings as you survey for anything out of the ordinary.

The thought of an intruder in your apartment is simply preposterous when you know it yourself that you had both the door and balcony locked hours ago. Surely, this is your paranoid mind conjuring another ghastly thought that doesn’t help with your perturbation.

But when your gaze finally settles on a manly silhouette against the vibrant cityscape, maybe you were not being so paranoid after all. Still, despite the violent churns in your tummy, you intend to take feeble steps to get a better look at the intruder while your rationality beseeches you to grab something or do anything to defend yourself against the brooding danger.

The intruder is obviously a male, judging by his physique even when he seems to be clad in an all-black ensemble, and from his laid-back stance, he is leaning behind against the balustrade by the balcony with his arms crossed over his chest.

Not even two steps when the intruder decides to intervene as he leans away from the balustrade and saunters forward, allowing you the stark view of his veiled identity beneath the eerily familiar mask he adorns, to which your eyes widen in both sheer disbelief and alarmed. You’d recognise that red mask anywhere.

Your figure is transfixed on the spot while every fibre in your being is screaming at you to elude him, but it is as though his gaze behind the mask penetrates you, and even in the way he is deliberately stalking towards you. You ignore the way he tilts his head to one side that seems adorable.

“Missed me, my love?” His familiar voice sends you a jarring sensation that has your heart lurching in your chest. The pitch of his voice sounds deeper than the last time you heard him, and a sultry rasp is evident that is accompanied by a brewing ire, especially in the way he exudes such disconcerting danger.

You should be matching his ire, and maybe even greater than his since he intruded into your once-tranquil sanctuary, but it is completely absurd how, in the midst of this, you feel a palpable arousing desire that you haven’t felt so profound in a long time.

This time, you know that it’s the influence of alcohol again. Oh, it is truly sickening, and you feel revolted at yourself, but maybe the wickedness in you has long since desired to be hunted and preyed on once more.

You open your mouth to speak, but it is as though you lost the ability to speak, unable to articulate your thoughts and feelings that are parallel in a torrent. It seems that he doesn’t feel satisfied with your lack of response as you finally take steps back, mapping the ways to elude him.

“I asked you a question, sweetheart.” He nearly growls out, and amidst the fear, your arousal seems to intensify. “Did you not miss me at all? Because I did, and I’ve missed you so dearly. How dare you leave me, my love?”

Instead of answering, you pivot on your heels and bolt for the main door, acting on your instinct, but the second you swing the door open, a startled yet frightful shriek leaves your lips when you come face-to-face with two ominous figures who adorn in familiar yet distinctive masks you dreadfully recognise.

“Where do you think you’re going, princess?” Even his voice behind that silver mask sounds deeper than you recall, and it is as though they’ve been through so much that accentuates in the way they sound and speak.

“Baby girl loves getting chased and tests our patience, like she usually did before.” His chuckles sound cold and harsh behind his black mask as he saunters towards you while you have long since backed away from your old predators, your mind mapping other ways to elude them. “It’s been long overdue, yeah? Let’s have a talk.”

You scoff, mustering the courage to display your long-established steely demeanour. “Oh, yeah. Let’s have a talk once I put all of you behind bars for your intrusion on my property.” Your aggressive retaliation takes them by little surprise, considering that they have been observing you as well as noticing the palpable change in you.

“Princess has gotten feistier.” He chuckles, but even you can discern how his patience is running thin in the way he sounds. He takes you by surprise as he takes a long stride forward in an attempt to reach for you, nearly growling out, “Come here.”

Of course, with your newfound vitality that incites from the adrenaline rush through you, now dashing for your room, completely determined to elude them despite the palpable yearning in your heart that adamantly desires to return to them.

Pushing open the door to your room, you shove yourself inside while your breathing is ragged from all the running ever since. Just before you can lock the door, a shriek leaves your lips when another intruding yet imposing figure towers over you, adorned in a familiar white mask.

You don’t even have the opportunity to recover when he seizes you in his possession, manoeuvring you and pinning you against the wall next to the door. His palm covers your mouth before you can scream, while the other seizes your bound wrists above your head.

“It’s been a long time, my beloved. Oh, how I’ve missed you so fucking much.” He lulls dangerously, tightening his grip on you while your pupils shake in fear as you stare at him with widened eyes, heeding to the ire that belies his longing. “Did you like the roses we bought for you?”

So it was from them. Even though you did like them, you refuse to admit it. You shake your head vehemently in response, earning you a disapproving tut from him. Your heart pumps harder as he closes the proximity between you two, his body heat is now in contact with yours.

“Liar. If you didn’t like them, you would’ve thrown them away, but you kept them instead.” He slowly removes his palm from your mouth, allowing you more capacity to regulate your harsh breathing. “Tell me that you’ve missed us, that you’ve missed me.”

You bite down your tongue, almost letting your true feelings that you thought you had them obliterated. Mustering the iciest glare you can, you penetrate your eyes into the eye sockets of his mask as you harshly utter, “I didn’t. Not one bit. Now leave, Heeseung─”

In a blink of an eye, Heeseung manoeuvres you again, and this time, you find yourself face-landing on the bed. You hear the door open, causing you to scramble on the bed as you finally gain a better view of your now-four predators encompassing your room, hindering you from any form of escape.

Their imposing figures that mingle with the thickening tension in the air suffocate you, and yet you can’t seem to stop your arousal from leaking from your throbbing clothed cunt. The hem of your dress hikes up way above your thighs as you attempt to crawl backwards, but a yelp emits from you when Heeseung grabs you by the ankles and pulls you towards them.

“We were going to play nice with you, but then you just had to be adorable and make things harder for us.” Heeseung’s voice holds dark promises that send you the pleasurable shivers, causing you to discreetly push your legs together in an attempt to stop the arousal, but it is futile.

“Bratty Princess needs to be taught a lesson.” Sunghoon drawls, and this time, your wrath is wholly eclipsed by the avid lust surging through you as you recall the last time you ever defied them.

Despite your steely, scowling demeanour, your heart races in anticipation, and your mind is dizzying from both the alcohol and the incessant need for them to reciprocate your darkest temptation. You squirm lightly under their penetrating gazes behind their masks that ooze with the familiar dark allure which the devilry in you desires most.

Oh, fuck, maybe you did miss them and their cocks.

Still, displaying your defiance towards them sounds as ever thrilling, and just for tonight, you decide to push aside whatever hurt and yearning in you that were caused by them. Tonight, you need to satiate your feverish lust that has long been neglected.

“What do you say, baby girl? Do you still want to play this the hard way, or do you want to talk?” Jay asks, the mockery dripping from his deep voice matches his imposing mask.

Of course, the answer is more than obvious to you. Supporting your upraised body with your elbows on the dipping mattress, a cold smirk plays on your lips while your sultry gaze is a silent yet powering invitation to them, as does your stark, revealing legs.

“You guys reek of desperation.” You scoff, still smirking, while you feign disgust with your eyes that do nothing to dispel the thickening heat in the air. “Seriously, fuck off─”

“So the hard way it is, then.” Heeseung deprives any more provocation from you as he hauls you up by the arm, nearly has you tumbling forward, but he steadies you as he cups your cheeks, forcing you to look into the dark, hollow sockets with widened eyes while you feel arousefully shaken by the depraved mockery by his mask’s visage alone. “Let’s make it a little fun, shall we? You’re going to try to escape from us, but if we catch you, we fuck you.”

With the persisting adrenaline rush in you, of course you are more than glad that things are now exciting in the most depraved way, but you refuse to give away your cooperation. After all, you had missed being a brat.

“No, fuck you! I’m going to report you for your intrusion.” You vehemently emphasise, and for a moment, you nearly deflate when your eyes flicker down at the necklace around his neck with a familiar ring resting on his chest, causing your heart to squeeze, but you quickly compose yourself before shoving him away from you with your every strength. “See your asses in jail.” You manage to splutter before bolting for the door and swinging it open.

It is odd how you hear none of their footsteps behind you when you expect them to chase after you. Nevertheless, you hasten forward, now heading for the door that grants you the freedom you feign seeking, but your rationality is beseeching you to actually escape.

As soon as you reach, your hand latches on the handle to push down and open, but it won’t budge at all. Huffing, you try for another time, only to receive an automated beeping sound from the smart padlock, bringing dread to you. You are locked from the inside out, and you have no idea how when this has never happened.

“My sweetheart can’t open the door?” Jake’s voice is laced with mockery, prompting you to turn around to see him leaning sideways against the wall of the end of the entryway with one hand tucked inside his pocket while the other holding his phone, to which your eyes narrow. Your suspicion is correct when he is the one responsible and manipulates your chance at escape. “I did a little modification on your smart padlock. Hope you don’t mind, lovely.”

Cursing under your breath, you resort to another plan, which is none, but you make a run from your predator anyway. You find yourself in the kitchen, which you actually never planned to, but just when you’re about to make an exit, a small shriek leaves your lips when Jake appears by the entrance of the kitchen, prompting you to back away.

“Do you know how adorable you look like this? Running away from me.” You ignore the fact that Jake’s breathy chuckles resurrect the butterflies in your tummy, your eyes darting to your surroundings while he continues to revel in the way you look so frantic. “Come on, now, sweetheart. Just surrender yourself to me, and we’ll make you feel good all night long.”

When your eyes settle on the kitchen knife, you grab it on instinct and just on time as he swiftly moves closer to you, feeling his body heat oozing to yours. With a cold snarl, you deftly manipulate your moves on him, now finding himself being pinned against the wall by you with your arm pressing on his chest while the other positions the sharp blade to his neck.

“Wow, sweetheart. I always knew you had it in you.” Jake chuckles again, completely undaunted by the fact that you are holding him dangerously at a knifepoint. “That’s why we’re the perfect match. How truly adorable you are, my dearest.”

“Stop talking and undo what you did to my door.” You coldly snarl at him, your eyes glaring heated into the hollow sockets of his mask. Honestly, you don’t have any malicious intent to harm, only wanting to give him a good scare, or at least you attempt to.

“This brings back memories, don’t you think?” Jake simply ignores your demand, his smirk widening behind the mask as he revels in the way you look attractively brazen with a lethal weapon in your grasp. “It would’ve been more perfect if you wore a ghostface mask. You’d look so fucking good─Fuck.” He groans, a sensual growl evident in the rumble of his chest when you intentionally press your thigh against his prominent bulge.

You scoff in disbelief while the corner of your lips twitches to a smirk that you hold back, revelling in the dominance you assert over him. “Are you seriously getting hard over this? You like it when I hold the knife to your neck, knowing that I could easily end you?”

“Fuck yeah.” Jake gasps lightly as he leans his head back against the wall, baring his exposed neck to you with his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down while he slowly grinds his bulge against your thigh, nearly whimpering out. “Please, sweetheart.”

“What are you pleading for? For me to cut your throat slowly while I fuck you?” Mockery drips your tone as he continues to grind on you. A part of you feels wickedly delighted that Jake is at your mercy, especially as he is evidently turned on by your derogatory remarks. “You like the idea, don’t you? Fucking nasty.”

“At least I’ll bleed to death happily with your pussy wrapped around my cock.” Jake chuckles breathily, his lips curving into a smirk at the deleterious yet salacious thought while his mind conjures up the erotic image that goes straight into his borderline-painful erection.

“You really are pathetic and a psycho, do you know that?” You hiss, pressing the sharp blade into his skin, but careful enough not to tear it. “Even in the face of death, sex is all you can think about.”

“When it comes to you, then yeah. I’m only ever hard for you.” He rasps, his voice sounding deeper while you discern a certain yet palpable shift in the air. Your eyebrows furrow slightly when he halts grinding, followed by a sigh. “Alright, sweetheart, playtime’s over. It’s my turn now.”

Your face contorts into confusion while you unintentionally loosen your grip on the knife. “What─” A startled gasp leaves your lips as soon as he deftly does an uno reverse on the situation, now seizing control over you that prompts him to possess the knife while backing you up swiftly until you hit the countertop behind you.

Your breath hitches in your throat as you feel the sharp blade on the skin of your neck, prompting you to tilt your head up to look at him while your heart pounds harder against your chest. Rather than the expectant fear, the position only intensifies your arousal coupled with the fogging lust in your head.

“What are you waiting for? Do it.” You jab him with provocation, your eyes glinting with challenge as you dare him to tear your skin. He remains silent, but the knife remains on your neck. You decide to provoke him again, leaning your neck to press against the blade while a smirk smears across your lips. “Don’t deny it. Deep down, you know you’ve always wanted to. From that moment you chased after me and fucked me as ghostface.”

“You know me so well, lovely.” Jake hums as he drags the pointed tip down your skin tantalisingly slowly with purpose. You shudder lightly as the tip ghosts across the expanse of your exposed chest. “But as much as I’d love to see you bleed prettily for me, I don’t want your precious skin to scar other than my mark. Now remove your underwear, and don’t make me repeat it.”

Surprisingly, you comply, trying your utmost not to seem eager while he takes one step away to allow you space to remove your underwear before you let it drop to the floor.

“Sit on the counter.” Jake orders sternly again, and heeding obedience, your palms plant on the countertop to assist in pulling up your body weight. “Now spread your legs, baby.”

You bite down your lip as you slowly spread your legs apart while the hem of your dress bunches up, only to be taken by surprise when he stands in between your legs with his thumb stroking along your slick folds until he reaches your clit to rub lazy circles, eliciting a gasp from you.

“It looks like I’m not the only one getting turned on by this.” Jake scoffs lightly, his thumb doesn’t relent from rubbing your clit, stimulating the bundle of nerves while a breathy moan escapes you. “Let’s take a trip down memory lane, shall we?”

“Jaeyun.” A startled gasp leaves your lips while your heart nearly lurches in your chest when he presses the edge of the knife’s handle on your clit that throbs from the solid sensation. He slides down the handle along your slick folds before taking you by surprise when he slowly pushes the handle into your cunt. “J-Jaeyun!” Your hand latches on his shoulder as you feel a spark of fear within you.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart? You weren’t so afraid earlier.” Jake teases you, but when his eyes flicker to yours, he halts his movement, with nearly half of the handle disappearing into your wet heat. He cups your cheek with his other palm, using his thumb to gently stroke your skin. “Relax, sweetheart. Don’t tense up. I won’t hurt you, you know that.”

Your heart melts upon hearing his gentle assurance, and you can’t resist falling for his charms as you place your hand on top of his, your eyes staring into the hollow sockets of his mask as you give him a nod that denotes a green light, to which he resumes his ministrations.

“Jae.” You moan, surrendering yourself to the sensation of your cunt being assaulted by the knife handle as you prompt your legs to spread wider for him, displaying your avidity in his hungry eyes as he watches how you’re taking it.

“That’s it, my girl. You’re doing so good.” Jake whispers amourously, bringing his two fingers to your mouth, to which you understand his intent as you open your mouth to stick your tongue out for him to collect your saliva before his slick fingers make their descent to your clit to rub it with skillful precision that has your cunt clenches around the handle. “Feels good?”

“So, so good.” You moan out your response, your hooded eyes fluttering open and close as you tilt your head up while moving your hips in tandem with the handle being thrust into your nearly weeping cunt.

Unbeknownst to you, another masked predator has been watching since the moment Jake fucked you with the knife handle, leaning sideways against the entryway of the kitchen with his arms folded. Behind the mask he adorned, his eyes darken as he drinks in the erotic display of you getting lost in the euphoria with your legs spread wide and your back arched that causes your erected nipples to be visible against the material of your dress.

Feeling a presence from behind him, Jake casts a brief glance over his shoulder to see his best friend without stopping the momentum. A smirk touches his lips, knowing that his best friend desires you vehemently.

“What are you standing there for?” Jake’s question draws your focus, and when you do, your eyes latch on the familiar silver mask as he stands across from you. Your cheeks go warm at the fact that Sunghoon has been watching you being shamelessly fucked by a mere knife handle. “You’re welcome to join. I’m sure our girl would love a set of fingers to stretch her.”

“Didn’t know princess was into this kind of stuff.” Sunghoon drawls as he saunters forward while you only feel a wave of anticipation for another to ruin you. “Like Jake said, I’m gonna stretch you good for you to take us later.”

A whimper leaves your lips as you feel the loss of the knife handle, causing your cunt to clench at the emptiness, but a gasp tears from your throat at the abrupt intrusion of Sunghoon’s cold, slender fingers plunging into you, replacing what was deprived of you.

“Hoon!” You moan loudly as his fingers thrust into you vigorously, yet it is a familiar momentum you had missed, prompting you to latch your hands onto his broad shoulders with your nails sinking into the material of his jacket.

“You’re soaking wet, princess.” Sunghoon grunts, increasing his pace as he fucks you with his fingers, eliciting a lewd sound from the slicks of your cunt that denotes your arousal. “So tight too. Should’ve fucked you sooner. How are you going to take us?”

But his remarks are drowned out by the sound of your moans that serenade to them, rendering them impatient as their erection is raging beneath the slacks.

“Sweetheart is dripping.” Jake coos, joining Sunghoon as he decides to set the bundle of nerves aflame with his thumb rubbing your clit. The dual sensation from the two best friends sends you to the teetering edge of ecstasy.

“Fuck. Hoonie! Jae!” You whine, planting your palms beside you on the countertop as you move your hips sensually yet at the same tandem as their fingers. You can feel yourself on the brink of the need to release, your body tauts with tension alongside the knot coiling in your tummy, getting ready to hurtle yourself to the climax.

“I’m going to cum!” Just as you announce, they cruelly deprive you of the orgasm that is slowly ebbing away as they pull away from your throbbing cunt, eliciting a sob from you while tears prickle in your eyes.

“You didn’t think that we’d give you to cum so easily after abandoning us, did you?” Sunghoon scoffs, leaning forward to cradle your face to wipe a single tear running down your cheek. His palm rubs your thigh soothingly before grabbing it. “Wrap your legs around me, princess.” He murmurs, and you do so obediently with your arms hooking around his neck on instinct.

Sunghoon proceeds to carry you back to your room with his hands supporting your buttocks. You indulge your body that has been craving this intimacy with him as you hug him tighter and bury your face in the junction of his shoulder and neck. His familiar cologne is a soothing balm to your nerves.

As soon as Sunghoon enters your room, he sets you down on the bed, prompting you to unwrap yourself from him. With the streaks of moonlight filtering into your window, your eyes spot the shade of Heeseung’s hair that looks lighter, unlike his best friends.

Your attention is pulled by Sunghoon as you look at his imposing figure looming over yours by the edge of the bed. “Strip for us, princess.”

Overcome by a surge of defiance, you scoff, rolling your eyes at him as you remain unmoving from the bed. “No.”

“I said fucking strip. Don’t make me repeat it for another time unless you want a good spanking.” Sunghoon's assertive dominance sends an intoxicating wave to you that nearly suffocates you.

Feigning reluctance, you huff lightly, your fingers curling at the hem of your dress that is bunched up to your hips before you pull it up purposefully slowly, as though to taunt them. All the while, their eyes are in a hypnotic trance at every perfect contour of your nudity despite the lack of light in the room, feeling borderline ravenous as you finally toss aside your dress without breaking eye contact with them.

Then palpable tension in the air feels electrifying that mingles with your anticipation, garnering their attention to your spellbinding lascivious gaze that melds with the hatred while your futile effort to discreetly squeeze your thighs together to repress the incessant arousal in your wet core amuses them.

“Tie her.” Heeseung’s command staggers you, and every bit of your provocation towards them dissipates.

“Wait, what?” But your reaction delays as Sunghoon hovers on top of you, catching you off guard when he curls his fingers around your neck to pin you firmly to the mattress. “Sunghoon!” You gasp in disbelief, your hands latching on his arm to claw at him, but Jay manages to seize them and locks them in place above your head, only for you to feel him tying your wrists together.

As you continue to squirm underneath them with strings of curses leaving your lips, Sunghoon asserts his dominance again to tame you, his fingers around your neck tightening that elicits a strangled gasp from you, prompting you to look at him with widened eyes.

“Behave, princess.” Sunghoon nearly growls out, but instead of intimidation, you feel sensually aroused by his familiar rough treatment. “You’re already in deep trouble for daring to abandon us for a whole damn year.”

You don’t make any retort, having a keen sense that what you did have aggrieved them, and now what’s awaiting you is their depravity that is practically ravenous to devour you in any moment from now.

“What, no comebacks now?” Sunghoon asks mockingly, tilting his head in amused curiosity, whereas you merely glare at him despite his mask feeling imposing on your vulnerable figure, as do his fingers around your neck. “What happened to the bratty princess with a foul mouth?”

Before you can even retaliate, Jay’s voice cuts through the air. “Hoon, move.” He commands coldly, and Sunghoon reluctantly gets off from you, now leaving you entirely exposed under their ravenous gaze with your stark nudity on display.

“Care to tell us what’s this?” Jay inquires as he raises an alarmingly familiar pink equipment, or rather, rose vibrator, in his grasp, causing your cheeks to feel warmer in utter embarrassment.

“You snooped around my room!” You decide to mask your embarrassment by the sheer anger in your voice. “God! Don’t any of you have any decorum?!”

“Says the girl who owns a vibrator.” Jay retorts calmly, and you can sense the annoying smirk on his charming face. “So you didn’t manage to find anyone to fuck you good throughout the year, baby?”

You ignore the endearment again, scoffing. “I have needs, just like you guys do when you beat your meat, and who says I didn’t manage to find someone?”

It looks like none of them is obviously appreciative of your statement, even though you are merely taunting them, as evident in the way the tension becomes unbearably hot. The next thing you know, Jay brings down the functioning vibrator to your clit, sending you jolting shockwaves of pleasurable sensation through your body.

“Ungh! Fuck!” You moan loudly, your eyes rolling to the back with your neck arching, and your legs threatening to close due to the overpowering sensation from the vibrator as he set it on the highest level, but Jake and Sunghoon pin your legs on each side, preventing them from closing. “Please! It’s too much!”

“Too much? I recall a certain slutty princess wanting to cum earlier.” Sunghoon smirks, revelling in the way you are borderline ruined just by your own vibrator, to which Jay presses deeply onto your clit that is going ablaze. “So you’re going to cum for as many times as we want you too.”

It feels tortuous despite the persisting pleasure that derives from your clit area, which is nearly sensitive. With your binded wrists, you can only afford to squirm under their hold. A series of moans and cries leave your lips while your hips move with little resistance in an attempt to feel the vibrator deeply.

It isn’t long until you can feel it as your impending orgasm that is teetering at the precipice finally crashes down like tidal waves, releasing fluids as they gush out from your pulsating cunt that is ready to be stuffed full by their cocks.

“So fucking messy,” Jay tuts, deciding to show you a little mercy as he removes the vibrator from your now-sensitive clit, but he lands a slap on your slick folds before repeating for a few times, causing your hips to jolt up involuntarily at the impact. “And that’s only the first orgasm.”

As soon as Jake and Sunghoon unpin your legs, you close them instinctively and turn to one side as you bring your tied wrists to your chest, your mind fuzzing from the aftermath of that intense orgasm. You hear shuffles from them, probably clothes discarding, and the next thing you know, hands seize your legs to pull you down towards them, eliciting a yelp from you before they haul you up.

Your heart flutters at the close proximity between you and Jay as he holds you close to him, his fingers caressing your cheek tenderly feels deceptive, but nevertheless, you savour whatever bits of affection he gives before you feel a hand tugging you and beckoning you to him.

“Come here, sweetheart.” Jake’s voice sounds huskier than usual as he pulls you down with him, settling you on top of him and aiming his erection towards your cunt before he forces you to sink down on him.

Since it has been a year since you had proper sex, your cunt is forced to get accustomed to the sheer girth of his cock, your walls welcoming him tight while you moan brokenly by the remnants of resistance.

“Jaeyun.” You whimper as he grips your hips to move you in a bouncing motion for good measure before his arms envelope your body to pull you down with him as he lays on his back. You whine, imploring him to resume his thrust, but he remains unmoving until you feel another presence looming over your docile figure with his hand spreading your supple butt.

You nearly jolt at the abrupt sensation of the heavy girth of his cock smacking your ass repeatedly. “We’re going to fuck your holes at the same time, baby.” Jay says, his tone sounding smug, whereas you begin to panic as you recall the blistering pain the last time they fucked you in the ass.

“W-Wait! I don’t know if it’ll fit!” But your protest goes unheard as Jay slides his cock into your tight hole, tearing a broken gasp from you at the familiar sensation. Both Jy and Jake waste no time in thrusting their cocks into your holes, setting a pace that sends you reeling in both pain and pleasure that slowly surges through your body.

“Fuck, baby.” Jay groans, his head tilting up as he stands by the edge of the bed while gripping your hips for leverage, working in tandem with Jake with the sound of your skins slapping against each other due to the borderline vigorous pace they set in motion.

“Sweetheart’s still so tight even after all this while.” Jake rasps, lifting his head to press a kiss on your shoulder with his masked lips while he holds you by the plumpness of your butt cheeks as he thrusts into you. “Don’t worry. We’re always going to keep you full with our cocks.”

“That’s fucking right.” Jay grunts from behind you, delivering a brutal yet deliberate thrust that has your body jolting forward and staying completely still as he buries his cock deeply and dumps his cum into your anal. “You’re not going to leave us like that again.”

Their promises go unheard by you as you are too caught up in the delirium. “P-Please, more!” You plead in a sob, desperately moving your hips to meet Jake’s thrust while Jay remains buried in your anal.

“Greedy baby.” Jay coos, brushing your hair away from sticking to your face before tangling his fingers in your hair to grab it in a makeshift ponytail as you are forced to form an arched body. “Baby girl wants more, so fuck her harder, Jake.”

Jake complies, increasing the pace that elicits lewd sounds from your slicks of arousal. His once slow, deliberate thrust changes into one that has your eyes going white and mouth parted open with silent moans.

With Jake’s loose arms falling from your body, Jay grasps the opportunity to haul your body up before he deftly binds your arms together with the tie from behind you while Jake remains seizing control over your hips to meet his thrust, causing you to bounce on his cock.

“Jay.” You moan out as Jay amplifies your heightened pleasure with his fingers tweaking and pinching your sensitive nipples, occasionally palming your tits. With Jake’s thrust going relentlessly frenzied, your climax looming with an intensity that feels familiar, causing your cunt to clench and unclench around him.

“I’m going to cum inside you, sweetheart. Fill you full of my babies.” Jake’s voice is laden with lust and a hint of longing, while the pitch of your moans goes higher as he fucks you harder. “Yeah, you’d like that, don’t you? Our babies will look so beautiful.”

With one last thrust, you tumble over the edge of ecstasy with white-hot pleasure surges through you as you cream all over his now-lathered cock while he buries himself to the hilt, filling your womb with his babies just as he promised.

A weak moan leaves your lips, feeling the tantalising drag of Jake’s cock along your white-painted walls as Jay slowly lifts you up from him before he settles you on the bed, facing the ceiling. Your eyelids feel heavier as you grapple to bask in the aftermath of your second orgasm of the night.

But of course, your masked predators never finish with you. “Don’t lose yourself to sleep now, princess. We haven’t had our turns yet.” Sunghoon’s cocky voice diminishes the slumber that beckons you. “You haven’t even had your punishment yet.”

As soon as those words leave his lips, a painful smack on your smeared-cum folds causes you to jolt from the impact, eliciting more sobs from you as Sunghoon and Heeseung work in tandem to deliver your punishment. One slapping your nearly-reddened cunt while the other rubbing your sensitive clit with torturous precision.

“You dared to leave us when you promised to stay by our side.” Heeseung’s deep, sombre voice that carries an undercurrent of laden lust overpowers the sound of your sobs and moans, aligning the way he delivers wet slaps to your cunt. “A year without you─ Fuck,” He lands another slap that punctuates his deep ire while tears stream down your cheeks. “You were so cruel to abandon us, beloved.”

Your heart clenches at the noticeable crack in his tone. This time, you release a raw sob that unveils your poignancy, which you have kept hidden with other sentiments you repressed yourself for a year. But you remain silent, refusing to apologise when you know you did what you had to, despite the regret.

After what it feels like forever, your punishment ends with Heeseung soothing your abused folds with the gentle padding of his fingers while your breaths become laboured from the crying. You thought they would be gentle with you after the intense punishment, but Sunghoon proves you wrong when he hovers on top of you and slaps down his weighty cock on your wet folds before plunging into your cunt with one swift thrust.

“Hoon!” You gasp out, his hips pistoning harder and faster as he fucks into you with reckless abandon. Just like that, your arousal returns to your heated core. Your glazed eyes stare at him, hating how you can’t see the contortion in his charming face and his upper body still clad with the layers of his clothes, just like the others.

“Wrap your legs around me, princess.” Sunghoon grunts, halting his thrust while you take this signal to wrap your legs around his waist with his arms securing around your body. As he holds you in the air, you try your utmost not to bounce on his cock, even though you are tempted too.

“We’re going to fuck your sweet cunt at the same time, princess.” Sunghoon tells you as he slowly settles you back on the bed, only for you to feel a warm body in contact with you from behind. “Fuck you full however long we want to.”

Your moans go straight to Jay and Jake’s twitching cocks as they watch you in fascination, their eyes transfixing on your pussy that is welcoming Heeseung while Sunghoon remains buried in you.

“Hee, Hoonie.” You whimper, needing them to fuck you into oblivion. “More, harder.” It is as though coherency leaves you from the moment they start to thrust into you potently, working well in tandem with one push and the other pulls before they exchange and repeat the motion.

“You were made for this, princess. Made to take our cocks.” Sunghoon growls, sending shivers down your spine while you feel helpless with tied arms behind you pressing against Heeseung’s stomach. “Everything about you is made for us.”

“Yes.” You moan out, your walls clenching around them elicits collective groans and moans from them before their thrusts become more fervent and punishing, bullying their cocks into your abused cunt, and yet you feel such longing in the way they hold you close.

“Never going to let you slip from my fingers again.” Heeseung says in between bated breaths next to your ear, his fingers descending to rub your clit and adding more to your building pleasure. “Gonna breed you until we’re satisfied.”

“Fucking breed you so you can’t escape from us.” Sunghoon mutters harshly, using his other hand to grab you by the neck, enough to apply pressure that accentuates his promises. “If you think you can run away with our babies in you, then you have another thing coming, princess.”

You moan weakly in response, focusing on the white-hot pleasure surges through your body while your impending climax is teetering once more. You can feel their cocks swelling in you, amplifying your overall pleasure.

“Yeah, baby, cum for us.” On Heeseung’s command, your cunt releases the gush of fluids as you squirt messily everywhere, causing your beeding to be completely drenched, with their cocks still thrusting into you while your body convulses between them.

“We got you, my love.” Heeseung’s voice is a velvet stroke in your ear, calming you down from your high that is accompanied by his hand stroking your bulging abdomen from their girth, their thrust unrelenting.

“Give us one more, princess. You can do it.” Sunghoon’s tone is akin to Heeseung, albeit stern but with a tinge of palpable gentleness that has you mewling, feeling moved by their words that have reignited your arousal tenfold and caused you to arch into their scorching touch while your cunt pulsates with each precise thrust that hurls you into a new height of ecstasy.

Getting lost in the heady mix of lust, moans, and sweats amidst your entwined body, you can feel your pleasure building to an unbearable crescendo that mingles with theirs, eliciting moans and grunts from the three of you, and the sensation getting more intense.

Finally, the knot in your tummy snaps as you surrender yourself to the pull of ecstasy, fluids gushing out for the third time as you squirt uncontrollably for them before they follow suit with primal roars as they bury their cocks to the hilt of your womb, keeping their words true as they seal you with their fate for the better or worse.

Following the aftermath of your fiery yet passionate encounter, you go slump on top of Heeseung while Sunghoon slowly withdraws his cock from your spent cunt with a sigh. After contemplating, Heeseung removes himself from you, eliciting a whimper from you at the sheer sensitivity.

You flutter your eyes close, resting momentarily while you slowly wrap your head around about what the fuck happened in just one night, and the night isn’t even over, especially for you. You feel full with their cum they had fiercely dumped into your womb, causing it to leak from your gaping cunt. You feel hands untying your restraint from behind, granting your aching arms the freedom they were deprived of as you rub them with a wince, leaving your lips.

When your eyes flicker to your masked men who are surrounding the bed, tension eventually brews, bringing the familiar wave of heat to you as you notice the way they seem to be focused on your cum-smeared cunt leaking down.

“Fuck me again, please.” You blurt out in a plea before you can stop yourself. With your hooded lustful eyes, you gaze at them sensually as you bite down your lip, your fingers finding their way to your cunt before you rub your sticky clit, enticing them in the way you arch in your own touch with your legs spread lewdly. “I want you. All of you.”

“You heard our girl. She wants all of us.” Heeseung tells his best friends, a soft smirk unfurling on his lips as he looks at them. “Let’s give her what she wants, and maybe even more.”

Things escalated more heatedly from that moment forth, your heightened libido matching theirs that you even cooperate well with them, despite the painful nostalgia it brings you back to the past, and it is absurd to you how the orgy that taints your once tranquil night feels natural. Of course it is. You have always fantasised for them to fuck you just exactly like this with their masks on.

“Fuck off, dude. You already dicked it in her. It’s my turn now.” Jay snarls at Jake, and you can only imagine the scowl on his face behind the mask. Yes, they are still wearing their mask, and miraculously, they are able to withstand the heat. You feel Jay’s possessive grip on the flesh of your bum, causing you to roll your eyes at their banter. “I’m not about to fuck her with your dick in her again.”

“Why? Afraid that you’ll get turned on by my dick instead of her pussy?” Jake retorts, grabbing his shaft to point aim at your anal that has been prepped by Sunghoon. “Nothing wrong with some bromance.”

“Either the two of you stop arguing and start fucking her, or I’ll do it instead.” Sunghoon voices out his annoyance that is accompanied by your whine of agreement. “Be grateful that you got both her pussy and ass. I got her mouth.”

“Better than nothing.” Heeseung sighs, watching as you unhinge your jaw for Sunghoon and welcome him when he slides his cock into your mouth. He can see the way your throat bulges each time Sunghoon fucks his cock deeper, eliciting gurgled and choked sounds from you in between moans from being fucked by Jay underneath you, whereas Jake uses your anal hole to fuck you fervently.

Feeling a little neglected, Heeseung steps forward and grabs your hand, to which you seem to understand his need, prompting your hand to latch on his cock that is completely erected before you finally fist him. Thankfully, with the strength of Jay and Jake supporting your body, you are able to satisfy Heeseung with how dexterous you are with your hand.

With the four men being occupied by your every hole and touch, there is a twisted symphony of dominance and submission that mingles with their carnal lust. Their affectionate praise and derogatory enunciating to you intensifies your heightened libido, while your depravity desires for them to corrupt you with their intoxication it had dearly missed.

“Fuck, baby, you’re squeezing me. You’re going to cum, yeah?” Jay rasps, gripping the flesh of your bum with his nails, causing indents to your skin as he presses them, his thrusts remaining vigorous as though he intends to obliterate you. “You always get so fucking wet. Squirt for me again.”

And you do, your screams and moans being muffled by Sunghoon’s shaft as he fucks you deeply until he reaches your throat, using you like his fleshlight. Your orgasm crashes down on you for the ninth time, your cunt spasming around Jay as you squirt profusely, while at the same time, Heeseung’s cock is spurting with his cum, making a mess all over your hand.

Jake, who has been trying to attain his orgasm, feels frustrated by the fact that your anal hole does nothing to help him, and so he withdraws from your now-gaping hole, only to shove his thick girth into your cunt that remains squirting.

“Dude!” Jay groans, throwing his head to the back in frustration while you gasp at the abrupt intrusion that sends your already-stretched cunt a blistering pain. “I just told you─”

“Shut up. Either her pussy or your virgin hole.” Jake snaps at him, groaning at the sensation of your walls vacuuming him. “Don’t fucking test me.”

“Damn. Are you sure you’re not gay?” Sunghoon manages to make a wit despite approaching his climax as he uses your mouth like the way he uses your pussy, causing you to roll your eyes to the back.

Jake scoffs, unfazed by the question, before he rams his cock into you harder while you feel him hitting your cervix deliciously, which sends you into a new blissful euphoria. “I don’t fucking care. As long as there’s a hole, I’ll fuck into it.”

It isn’t long until Sunghoon has finally dumped his cum into your throat, forcing you to swallow every drop before he withdraws from you. Your breathing is ragged, with your chest heaving up and down from every exertion. A breathy moan escapes you as Jay and Jake get frenzied in the way they fuck your weeping cunt.

“Can we─” You pause as soon as Heeseung replaces Sunghoon, standing in front of you with his cock going erect once more. You whine as he teases you with the head of his cock, giving you a light slap on the corner of your lips. “Can we take a break after this?”

“My beloved, I don’t think you understand what you’ve just started.” Heeseung says softly, his fingers brushing away your strands from your sticky face, and his gesture is a deception you recognise. “We’re going all the way, no stopping. It’s what you get after leaving us.”

Before the daybreak dawns, you have already expeditiously prepared for your departure once more, albeit it isn’t permanent as your purpose is solely to avoid them for as long as you can, especially after what happened a few hours ago before all of you finally passed out in your room.

Hence, the reason why they wake up to find you nowhere in your own apartment, having been aroused by an odd feeling of stark coldness before realising that it derives from your sudden absence. Instinctively, they panic at the thought of you abandoning them once more, and their devastation returns when one of them spots a pink sticky note on the coffee table.

‘Surely, you guys know the way out the same way you got in without invitation. Since you got what you wanted last night, stay away from me this time, and I mean it.’

The devastation is eclipsed by resentment, wondering what went wrong when last night was nothing but pure bliss with you, which they haven’t felt in a long time, so they can’t understand why and how your mind that is filled with such complexity works.

“We should stay until she gets back.” Jake suggests, his eyes glinting with hope as he stares at his gloomy best friends. “She can’t stay outside all day till night time.”

“She’s changed, Jake, so yes, she can. We can’t underestimate her.” Heeseung heaves a sigh, masking his disappointment as he doesn’t wish for them to see his weak moment. “We should leave, and Jake, undo the hack shit you did to her door.”

“Let’s give her some time to think.” Jay voices out his opinion despite feeling displeased with himself. “We’ll come back for her in a few days or so. She can’t avoid us forever.”

“I don’t want her to hate us anymore.” Sunghoon murmurs, his demeanour turning crestfallen, a rare display. “I can’t afford to lose her—Ah, fuck it. I’m not going to lose her. I’ll lock her up somewhere if I have to.”

“We all can’t afford to lose her, Hoon.” Heeseung says, wearing a grim countenance. “We’ll be damned if we ever do, which is why we must fix what we broke properly this time.”

Despite their differences, their unwavering devotion to you is something that they have in common, which derives from the feelings they have always harboured for you, even after you departed from their lives. Feelings that are beyond platonic as well as the affection that is only reserved for you, and no matter their prominent Casanova reputation in the past, no one has ever made them feel so deeply until you.

Sure, it started out as infatuation that stemmed from their preying on you in order to corrupt you, but eventually that infatuation turns something so profound and darker that passed beyond the borderline of obsession, and unbeknownst to you, you made them far more dangerous than they originally were before.

They would have killed for you if you had asked them to. They would have done anything for you, anything, no matter the price. All they wanted was for you to stay by their side until the end. Hence, after learning of your departure, it drove them to the brink of their sanity, just stark madness.

It was even worse when they didn’t find out directly from you but from their trusted apprentices, also known as the now-leaders of Devil’s Knights. It was indeed an upheaval night of rage and betrayal.

--------

“Jungwon, you might want to rethink this. It isn’t too late to back out.” Riki murmured lowly to his best friend, whose eyes hardened with such resolve as they stared straight ahead at specific individuals. “This is definitely a bad idea.”

It had been only a day since you left, but Jungwon felt terribly awful for the now-ex leaders upon seeing how the long distance they forced themselves to establish in order to give you space disheartened their spirits and the fact that they had no knowledge of your planned departure. Jungwon felt that it wasn’t right to keep them in the dark any longer, and he doubted that they wouldn’t ever find out about you.

“If they ever plan to kill us after this, trust me when I say that I’ll be doing them a favour by killing you first instead.” Sunoo whispered hotly to Jungwon, his foxy-like eyes glaring into Jungwon’s face, seeming to amuse two of the leaders ahead while the other two maintained austere demeanours. Sunoo continued to express his annoyance to his best friend. “Seriously, do you even realise that you’re asking for a death wish by coming here?”

Jungwon only grimaced in response, but he did reevaluate on this matter several times for the past days, and he came to a conclusion that they must be alerted about this matter post haste, never mind the fact that he might be skinned alive. Sunoo and Riki had implored him even before they came to the palace, and both of them vehemently intended to keep their words, which they had promised you. They might be as detrimental as the leaders, but they were a man of their words.

“You said you got news to tell us, so don’t keep us waiting.” The three of them flinched at the Sunghoon’s flinty tone, prompting them to cease whatever they were doing as they diverted their attention to him.

Jungwon discreetly clenched his fist, swallowing down a lump in his throat while mentally preparing himself, his sharp eyes betraying none of the turmoil within. “It’s about Y/N.” He starts off, his voice coming out strong. “We came over to her place and told her everything.”

“What was her response? Has she decided to forgive and return to us?” Heeseung raised his eyebrow inquisitively, his stance displaying an avid interest while his eyes flickered with longing that made the Jungwon inwardly wince.

“Not exactly, but we brought Beomgyu to her, and as expected, the bastard didn’t apologise to her.” Sunoo answered for Jungwon, masking his nervousness with his usual quirk, his lips forming a crooked smile. “She punched him after he insulted her.”

“That’s our girl.” Sunghoon’s tone was filled with such pride and affection for you, his lips curving into a smirk as he imagined how good you punched Beomgyu.

Jay, who had been silently studying their body language and examining the contortion in their faces with penetrating eyes, was acutely aware that the three of them were hiding something from them, especially after knowing them for years.

“You’re hiding something.” Jay’s stern statement seemed to intensify the foreboding atmosphere in the living room. His dour countenance shaken them inwardly. “Fess up, or you won’t be allowed to leave.”

Sunoo and Riki exchanged wary glances before they looked at Jungwon, whose demeanour remained unchanged, and they knew that there was no changing his mind.

“Y/N isn’t here anymore. She left Seoul yesterday.” Jungwon finally revealed the truth, his eyes carefully examining the expressions plastered on their faces. “

“What do you mean she left Seoul?” Heeseung re-emphasised the question rather slowly, but they could sense the danger lurking beneath his treading words.

“I meant, she left Seoul permanently. She won’t be coming back.” Jungwon elaborated, nearly rambling as the tension was palpable. “I just thought of telling you this before any of you decided to go over to her house─”

“And you thought it was a good fucking idea to tell us now?!” The three of them were caught off guard by Jake’s raging outburst, and they knew that they were fucked up because Jake had never shown and directed his wrath towards them for as long as they could recall.

“Wait! We can explain!” Just as Sunoo intended to plead, Jake marches over in an attempt to lunge for Jungwon and give him a good punch in the face, but Jay immediately stepped forward and grabbed Jake before things could turn into a nasty brawl.

Despite brimming the same ire, Jay remained composed, a muscle pulsing in his jaw as he held Jake back while the latter was seeing red. “Calm down! Punching Jungwon or any of them isn’t going to do anything, let alone bring her back!” Jay barked at Jake, who easily broke free from his deadly clutch.

“But they kept this from us when they should’ve told us straight away! And now she’s gone!” Jake was practically seething, veins protruding in his neck and eyes glaring heatedly that could probably make anyone outside of their circle wet their pants. His knuckles were painted white by how tight he clenched his fist, mastering self-control when he catches Heeseung’s stern eyes, a silent message for him to restrain himself.

“I agree with Jake.” Sunghoon added in, his tone remaining impassive, but the emotions in his eyes were storming with both anger and devastation at the revelation. His eyes hardened. “The three of you already know how important she is to us, and yet you didn’t bother to let us know earlier. You fucking idiots.”

“In our defence, we were simply respecting Y/N’s wish! We even gave our word to her!” Sunoo retorted, his once-witty disposition molten by vehemence defensiveness, subtly moving forward to embody a barrier between Jake and Jungwon. “She even pleaded with us, as she didn’t want any of you to know.”

“She knew that you wouldn’t allow her to leave.” Riki added, his dark eyes conveying a knowingness to them. He clenched his jaw, feeling a surge of protectiveness to defend in your honour. “I respect you as my leaders and friends, but don’t you dare blame her for her decision to leave. She deserved better after what happened.”

“You damn right, we wouldn’t have allowed her to leave.” Jake snarled coldly at them, his eyes blazing with intense conviction. “Now tell us. Where did she go?”

“We can’t tell you.” Sunoo’s answer only seemed to fuel Jake’s rage, prompting Jay to curb the latter as he embodied a barrier between them.

“What the fuck do you mean by that?!” Jake gritted his teeth, his outburst earning him a brief glare from Jay, which he merely ignored.

“We can’t tell you, because we genuinely have no idea where she decided to go.” Riki said, his tone sounding eerily calm, as does his demeanour, while his eyes displaying stark sincerity. “Again, she knew that if she had told us, you would force the answer out of us.”

Jungwon heaved a sigh as he stepped out of Sunoo’s shadow, having had enough of this prolonged confrontation and tantrum. “But she did mention that it was where she had always dreamed of travelling to.”

“As if that information would help us.” Jake scoffed, and despite his rage, they could see the devastation racking through him from the devastating revelation of your departure. “You know what? Fuck this, and fuck you. I’ll just find her myself.”

“Jake, wait─” Heeseung called out for Jake, but the latter was too caught up with the tempestuous emotions within him as he grabbed his coat from the armchair before storming his way out of the living room.

“The three of you could’ve tried stopping her.” Sunghoon uttered, a sombre casting shadow across his features. “Then maybe she would’ve changed her mind about leaving.”

“I don’t think it would make any difference.” Sunoo shook his head, his lips pressing together thinly while a fleeting melancholy flickered in his gaze. “Even if she already knew the truth from us, there was nothing that could change her mind about leaving.”

“I’m sorry.” Jungwon muttered, his eyes turning crestfallen as he looked at the three now-ex leaders before locking eyes with Jay, whose eyes hardened with emotions he couldn’t fathom. “We’re sorry for not trying harder to convince her to stay.”

Jay looked away from them with a clenched jaw. “Yeah, I’m sorry too.”

--------

From that moment forth, things were never the same. Living in the palace felt daunting to them without your presence that used to enliven the dull, imposing palace. Their once-unbreakable comradeship between each other had palpable tension, and there were moments where they blamed each other for your departure, pointing blame at one another’s flaws they made towards you in all of the times they had treated you.

But at the end of the day, they knew their own selves were to blame. After the revelation from the three new leaders, days bled into agonising weeks, and before they knew it, two months had passed and they knew that life must go on, even without you by their side.

Despite being utterly devastated by your departure, to which each of them struggled and coped differently, they decided to push aside their ego and cooperate with one another to devise a plan, which was to learn of your current location first before proceeding to another stage.

A sense of normalcy befell the four best friends as they tried everything in their power to find you, and even Jake tried to track you down by recalling the tracker he actually had chipped in your phone, but his hope was crushed when he couldn’t detect your location as you had changed your phone and contact.

They did have some thoughts about going over to your parents and asking about you, but they couldn’t face your mother after her infidelity involving their fathers, so they held some grudges against her. Hence, they coerced Sunoo, Jungwon, and Riki to ask your parents instead, to which they, of course, begrudgingly did, only to receive disappointment by the fact that your parents had no idea either.

It hurt them as you seemed to have carefully planned this that not even your parents knew about which state you went to, because did you hate them that much?

Afterwards, their motivation deteriorated, and they proceeded on with their lives as they also needed to focus on their careers in respective fields in relation to their degrees.

Seven long months have passed, but their longing for you only intensified in the most excruciating way, and it was killing them more than it should despite their miraculous ability to simulate a coequal facade that displayed their cold detachment in front of the others except towards each other.

There were moments when they wanted to give up and cease mapping possibilities of where you might be, until their hope rekindled.

--------

“Hold the fuck up. You mean to tell us that after seven months, you finally remembered the one crucial detail of her that we could’ve used to our advantage back then?” Jake nearly growled out, his dark eyes glaring into Sunghoon's, whereas the male was completely undeterred by the fact that he could be in the path of his best friend’s wrath.

“Don’t put the blame on me. I had many things going on in my mind back then.” Sunghoon defended himself, shooting him a scowl as he remained leisurely seated on the couch. “Besides, it’s only a maybe. We’re not even sure if she really went to Milan, so we can’t make any rash decisions right now.”

“Sunghoon’s right.” Heeseung concurred, earning him a glare of disbelief from Jake, to which Heeseung reciprocated with a pointed look. “As much as I want her back, we need to think rationally, Jake. We have already established our careers here, and we can’t toss all of our hard work away just like that.”

“We can just utilise our annual leaves or even unpaid leaves, I don’t care. I’d rather take the risk than to wait around here any longer,” Jake retorted vehemently, his resolution blazing in his eyes. “This is our Y/N we’re talking about. She’s the─” He paused, nearly whimpering as he looked away from their eyes. “She’s the love of my life.”

There was a shift in the air, evoking such poignancy from them as they went silent for a brief moment. Jay eyed his best friends, hating how uncharacteristically dejected they looked once again, and so he knew what he must do, thanks to Sunghoon.

“Who are you texting?” Heeseung inquired, watching Jay with calculated eyes as the latter was focused on his phone.

“My cousin. He lives in Milan. Thanks to Sunghoon, we have a lead, and at least it’s better than nothing.” Jay said while his fingers were working their way on the phone screen as he got immersed in texting his cousin from his father’s side. “He’s online, by the way. Since he has resources and connections, he is more than willing to help us out, so all we have to do now is wait.”

“Wait?” Jake scoffed in disbelief, his patience running dangerously thinly, as evident in his countenance. “There is no more waiting! Tell your cousin to speed up, or is he too incompetent─”

“Jake.” Heeseung snapped coldly, his tone reverberating throughout the living room, and they knew that he meant business. “Enough of your shit. You need to blow off some steam.”

“I second that.” Sunghoon feigned coughing, to which Jake cast a withering glare before he finally took off with Heeseung’s advice.

Not even moments later when Jay’s phone rang, garnering their attention to him as he quickly answered an incoming call from a certain cousin. Jay raised his finger at them, pressing his phone against his ear as he moved away from them while they resumed minding their business in the living room, assuming that Jay was on a call with someone else.

It took Jay awhile before he finally returned to Heeseung and Sunghoon with the look on his face earning inquisitive eyebrows raised from both.

“You look a little too happy. Why? Your daddy finally promoted you to take over his business?” Sunghoon’s tone dripping with mockery went under-appreciated by Jay, as the latter was too preoccupied by the hope that bloomed pleasantly in his chest.

“I was on a call with my cousin.” Jay revealed, which piqued their full interest, leaning their bodies slightly forward. A smirk touched Jay’s lips while his eyes darkened with a familiar danger. “Well, it looks like our angel is right where we thought she would be.”

--------

Frankly, Jay assumed that the chances of his cousin tracking your precise location in Milan were low, but much to his delightful surprise, his cousin turned out to be your acquaintance, and yet the thought of another male, even if he was his cousin, displeased him greatly.

Nevertheless, the universe seemed to be working in their favour at the time, so after settling their respective businesses in regards to their careers, to which they found their solution, they finally embarked on a new journey as well, and their only shared goal is to get you back, no matter what it takes.

Two days granted you less than expected for you to ruminate over the licentious encounter you had with them, the ones you thought you could escape from. The rational part of you has been incessantly rebuking you for betraying your resolution, which you thought was adamantine, but your depravity is satiated with their compulsive intoxication that felt like it breathed you to life.

The erotic recollection precipitously surfaces in your mind, prompting you to drink your smoothie aggressively while warmth weaves across your cheeks. Oh, yeah, you enjoyed it more than you should. You would never admit this to them, but they fucked you better than the last time they did, and you know that it has something to do with one of your twisted fantasies of being fucked by masked men.

Shaking your head at the recollection, you proceed to exit the washroom and head back to your table where your best friends are seated for refreshments in the cafe after an hour or so of you accompanying them to shop.

Although you have regained your full vitality, you occasionally limp whenever you walk—well, more like you feel your knees buckling underneath you before you quickly steady yourself. If your best friends have noticed it, then they are doing a great job at closing both eyes to it.

As you slide over to your seat, you pretend to be engrossed in their conversation while your mind drifts off to them, and questions begin to linger in your head, including their sudden yet mysterious detachment.

Though you are thankful that they weren’t outside and inside of your apartment, you can’t help but be curious, wondering if they finally decided to leave you alone for good after the note you left for them to read or if they are busy with their other pursuits, such as careers. Surely, they should already have landed their respective careers despite wielding immense wealth that could probably last for generations.

You ignore the growing ache in your chest, refusing to acknowledge the familiar longing for them. This is exactly what you wanted — for them to leave you for good, but needles seem to be endlessly piercing through your bleeding heart, and the only way to stop this unabating maelstrom within you is to curb your ego and admit to yourself that you still want them.

You clench your fist that is resting on your thigh, embittered by the fact that you are once again thrown into a dilemma with your emotions tangled in a web. When your eyes shift to your best friends, something pulls at the strings in your heart as you dispiritedly wonder whether or not they will be revolted at you like they once were if you vent out your repressing feelings to them.

“Y/N, a penny for your thoughts?” Jennifer’s voice breaks through the rumination you are in, pulling you back into the bleak reality. Your eyes lock with Jennifer, who is sitting across from you and whose eyes show genuine concern. “You keep spacing out, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so stressed since─” She pauses, grimacing as she doesn’t wish to trigger you. “Well, you know.”

You bite down your lip, your eyes shifting elsewhere other than their curious yet concerned eyes, contemplating whether to let them know, but you trust them and no doubt that they will support you.

A sigh leaves your lips. “Something happened two nights ago.” And so you begin to unravel every piece, not missing out any details while they surprisingly listen without interrupting you, and just as you expect, genuine shock that laces the anger is written across their features, whereas Jennifes doesn’t look as shocked, almost as if she knows something, but you brush it off.

Of course, you also include the fact that you slept with them, but not into depth, and by that, you mean the part where you actually have a twisted fantasy about getting fucked by masked men. You don’t want to potentially aggravate the situation, especially when they look a little less appalled.

As soon as you finish, you clasp your hands together on the table as you look down, unable to muster the courage to look at the possible revulsion on their countenance, just as you feel towards yourself. So much for betraying your own resolve.

“You girls probably hate me for going against my word.” You mutter, your eyes hardening as your mind is once again your enemy, rebuking you incessantly. “I know I can’t blame the alcohol entirely.”

“We don’t hate you, Y/N.” Wonyoung, who has been sitting next to you, reaches out to grab your slightly trembling cold hand in her grasp, prompting you to lift your head up slowly to meet her kind eyes. “If you think that we’re going to condemn and shame you, then you’re wrong. I mean, yes, we’re shocked and in disbelief that they somehow managed to find you here, but honestly, our feelings don’t matter. I think I can say for Karina and Jen that we no longer give a damn about the ex-leaders.”

“Plus, we’ve already known that they were not entirely responsible for what happened a year ago.” Karina seems to be treading with her words carefully as she examines your face. “Wony’s right. Our feelings don’t matter when it comes to this, but what matters most is your feelings. You told us the details, but you never really told us about how you’re feeling.”

You can feel every bit of your once steely resolve crumbling as you so desperately cling onto those bits. “I don’t know what to feel. All my emotions are going haywire.” You tell them sincerely, your eyes turning crestfallen. “I know I said that I wanted to wipe the slate clean and never looked back to my past, but now that they’re here, I don’t know what to do.” You continue to pour out bits of your pent-up emotions, your face appearing in such distress as you run your fingers through your hair. “What if they come back again? Should I pretend to ignore their existence? Should I hurt them with words?”

The three ladies exchange meaningful glances before Jennifer takes initiative as she leans her body forward with heedful attention, her stern yet kind eyes ensnaring you. “We’re in no position to tell you what to do, but we can only advise you to follow your heart’s desires.”

“But I can’t. I don’t want to.” You say, frustration bubbling within you while devastation storms in your gaze. “If I follow what my heart desires, then I’ll be betraying my own promises, and I don’t want any toxicity in my new life here. I’ve had enough of that. I deserve better.”

“Yes, you deserve so much better, but Y/N,” Karina pauses, her hesitation is obvious in the way she looks at you. “Do you still love them?”

The one mistake you make is the fact that you hesitate as soon as the question leaves her lips. After a couple beats of silence, you decide to respond, but the tremor in your voice is palpable. “No, I don’t. I stopped loving them after what happened.”

“A year later, and you still suck at lying.” Jennifer points out rather amusingly. “I love you, but you gotta stop being in denial.”

“I’m not in denial.” You retort vehemently, shooting her a scowl. “I meant what I said. I don’t love them.”

“And I’m getting married, so we’re both liars, then.” Wonyoung remarks, raising an eyebrow at you. “We’re not buying any of your words, Y/N.”

“Come on. Just admit it.” Karina presses, and you can feel the last of your patience stretching so thinly. “Why are you so afraid of admitting it?”

Alas, something inside of you finally snaps, your eyes going ablaze with unrestrained vehemence of ire that blends with the sheer vulnerability, taking them by surprise. “Fine, you want to know why I’m so afraid? It’s because if I admit it, then it’ll be the end of me, and I can’t allow that to happen.” Your voice shakes palpably with a torrent of emotions. “I lost myself once, all because I was so desperate and foolishly hoping for them to reciprocate what I felt for them. I refuse to lose myself for another time.”

Jennifer’s eyes soften. “Y/N─”

You shake your head at her, looking away from them as you quickly blink the accumulating tears that glisten in your eyes. “I don’t want to love again, which is why I’ve told you girls that I had no interest in dating. I’ll only hurt myself by my own expectations.”

“We’re sorry, Y/N.” Karina tells you sincerely, her tone sounding apologetic. “We knew how much they meant to you.”

Wonyoung reaches out to squeeze your shoulder in a comforting support. “We respect your decision in whatever you choose to do. Just do what you think is right and best for you.”

Jennifer offers you a small smile that seems to temporarily ease your nerves. “We’re here to support you, Y/N, even if you choose to return to them.”

“Thank you, girls, really.” You cast them a faint smile, feeling a tad overwhelmed by their reaffirmation support. A sigh leaves your lips before the familiar steel of resolve returns to your demeanour as you finally align with your rationality. “Now I know what to do next.”

Even if it means breaking your own heart that remains beating in a familiar longing cadence for them.

After sending Karina and Wonyoung back to their hotel apartment, Jennifer, who thankfully is the only one in your circle to pass her driver’s license, drives you back to yours, as she has already told you beforehand that she intended to have a sleepover at your crib after so long.

Plus, it is a great opportunity for you to desist from ruminating in your dilemma since Jennifer has generously bought two finest bottles of wine, which you were shocked to learn about the prices, but nevertheless, Jennifer wasn’t deterred in the slightest. Perks of being a nepo baby, you think.

“So, I was thinking that maybe we could watch gossip girls, and yes, I know I’ve watched it before, but you haven’t,” Jennifer continues to blabber, even as you two board the elevator to head to your floor, for which you are grateful as you feel the last of your fraying nerves ebbing away.

It isn’t long when the two of you finally reach the floor of your apartment, but as you are nearing your unit, your steps feel heavier in a trice and dreadful turmoil within you, to which you have no idea why. With your slightly trembling hand, you search for the key card in your purse while Jennifer is in the middle of texting on her phone, completely oblivious to the mounting tension in the air.

You nearly fumble with tapping the key card on the smart lock, earning you an inquisitive eyebrow raised from Jennifer as her attention shifts from her phone, to which you simply ignore as you slowly push down the handle, allowing Jennifer to enter first.

“First things first, I’m feeling hungry, so I’m ordering food.” Jennifer says as she busily removes her heels to place them in the shoe compartment before grabbing for the house shoes, which you bought a few extra in case there are visitors. She casts a questioning look over her shoulder as you switch the buttons on, prompting illumination to cast a glow in your apartment before the two of you advance further. “Do you want any?”

Just as you intend to give her your answer, Jennifer stops dead in her tracks, looking genuinely staggered while her eyes are staring straight ahead, compelling you to shift your attention to the same axis as hers, and just like that, you completely understand why there is a persistent turmoil within you.

Although you feel a tad staggered, annoyance and anger seize over you, as evident in the way your icy eyes are glaring, because in your line of sight are the very individuals whom you thought had departed from your life after not seeing them for two days.

“Oh, um, I’m just gonna─” It painfully astounds you to see Jennifer being out of her assertive element as you hear a distinct crack in her voice and the way she casts you a look with a small smile that looks awful-like a grimace. “I’ll see myself in the guest room while you─er─” She gestures her hand in a moving motion between you and them.

Upon receiving a deadly silence emanating from your brooding figure, Jennifer barrels in the direction of the guest room, her legs a guiding memory, now leaving you alone with them.

As the frigid silence persists that weighs heavily in the air, you take this moment to study their stark appearance under these illuminations, which you didn’t have the chance to two nights ago with the exception of two of them whom you had seen at the Milan fashion week, and as you do, you can feel your heart breaking bit by bit that is taking its splintering effect on your steely resolve.

Jake, who is nearest to you, captures your initial attention, and in the way his body language seems to insinuate his self-restraint in laying a hold of you since he is just within an arm's reach if he takes another step. His raven locks look trimmed but are still familiarly irresistible, to which your fingers are itching to run through them. You can feel the strings in your heart pulling painfully as you notice how he seems to have lost weight on his face as well as his eyes that were once gleaming with wonted mirth and mischief have lost their sparks.

Sunghoon is standing by the balcony with his hands tucked in the pockets of his jeans, his posture displaying such nonchalance that parallels his dour countenance, but even you can discern the familiar longing in his eyes amplified at the moment your eyes lock with his, betraying his impassiveness. His raven strands fall over his thick brows, tempting you to brush them away like you once did. As your eyes roam around his features to scrutinise, you wonder when was the last time he ever smiled genuinely.

A few distance away, Jay’s figure seems imposing as he stands directly across from you with his lower back leaning against the couch’s armrest and one hand tucked inside the pocket of his jacket. His sharp flinty eyes compel you, locking you in place with his sharp flinty eyes, but you can see that his wintry facade melts, causing his features to soften with a familiar tenderness reserved only for you.

When your eyes flicker over to Heeseung, who is leaning behind against the wall next to the balcony with his arms folded across his chest, your heart that has been beating in a familiar cadence seems to amplify. His mere presence is enough to dominate the entire room while his silence is resounding. His hair is in the gorgeous shade of pink, and he looks amazing, tempting you to run your fingers through his locks. Like a siren’s serenade, he easily ensnares you with his eyes that hold unfathomable emotions.

They look devastatingly as handsome as they were, maybe even more, but there is a certain ambience they exude that corresponds to one another.

Sensing a gradual shift in your demeanour, you strengthen the walls you built to protect your mended heart that coarsen a callousness in your facade, refusing for them to allow just the slightest glimpse of your vulnerability that derives from the feelings your weeping heart still harbours.

You adopt an intimidating stance, your arms folded below your chest while your eyes hold a glaring detachment, displaying your unbending resolution, which is to drive them away from your life for good.

“I thought I made it clear in that note when I told you to stay away from me.” You start off, your flinty tone sounds awfully foreign to them, just as you look at them now, and they hate it. “You already got what you wanted two nights ago, so what do you want from me?”

“Don’t you still get it? We want you.” Jay speaks for his best friends, but even the determination coming out strong in the way he enunciates their correlative intention is not resonating enough to coax your tenacity.

You click your tongue in annoyance, your icily glaring eyes are in sheer disbelief. “If that’s what you came here for, then you’ve just wasted your time.”

“Why are you being like this?” Jake voices out, drawing your attention to his eyes that glisten with emotions despite his composure while your heart clenches in return. “Please, sweetheart, we want you to return to us. That’s all we want.”

“Bolt of you to assume that I would return to you.” You scoff, rolling your eyes as you maintain your established resolve that is teetering dangerously. “You can’t just waltz back into my life after what happened.”

“We didn’t stop searching for you after you left, even when we thought there would be no hope.” Heeseung says quietly, but the gravity in his tone resonates with you, prompting you to meet his dark intent eyes. “We went through lengths just to get to where you were. We came to Milan solely for you.”

“Well, that’s on you, then. I didn’t ask for you to do all of that.” There is a certain edge in your tone, adding to the rising tension that is nearly palpable between you and them. “I didn’t even ask for you to search for me when the whole purpose was to get away from the very place that brought me misery.”

“You’re right, but for you, we would do anything. You should’ve known this, princess.” Sunghoon leans away from the balcony to saunter forward as he looks at you sternly. “We would do anything to get you back.”

This time, you fail to restrain your brewing ire, your arms falling to your sides as you clench a fist. “Do I look like I want to return to any of you?” You ask rhetorically with a derisive chuckle leaving your lips. “If you’re here to force me to accept you back, then I suggest you leave now. Don’t─” You pause, swallowing a painful lump in your throat as you muster the courage before forcing your voice with conviction. “Don’t make me hate you more than I already do. So please, leave.”

“I don’t understand you, Y/N.” Sunghoon displays his frustration towards you, his eyes hardening. “A year ago, Sunoo, Jungwon, and Riki already explained to you the truth, so what more do you want in order for you to return─”

Something inside of you finally snaps. “What I want is for you to fucking leave!” You raise your voice, your ire mingling with exasperation releases in a torrent of outburst as you continue. “I want you to leave me alone for good! I’m already happy with my life, and for once, everything that has happened in my life ever since I left Seoul is working out for me!” You refrain the tears that burn the back of your eyes from revealing your vulnerability. “I won’t allow any of you to destroy that─ to destroy me again.”

“Destroy you again?” Jay scoffs in disbelief, leaning away from the sofa. “I don’t understand why you even thought that we destroyed you when all we’ve done was show you that there was more to life than holding yourself back from unleashing what your heart truly desired.”

“Wasn’t that your goal when you decided to prey on me in the first place?” You bite back, your jaw locking while your chin wobbles with anger that overweighs the hurt as you recall. “You weren’t sincere with me and did it for the sake of your twisted tradition. You influenced me to become the worst version of myself when I should’ve been good─”

“But you were. You were always good, even to us, beloved.” Heeseung cuts you off, his mellow tone is so oddly overpowering that even you feel weakened, especially in the way his softened eyes are looking at you. “Forget about the preying. If we weren’t sincere with you, then we wouldn’t fly across the globe to find you.”

“Please, sweetheart.” Jake takes a daring step forward, causing you to back away while you ignore the disappointment flicker in his gaze. “We also came here to ask for your forgiveness, so please give us another chance.”

A shaky breath leaves your lips. “I forgive you.” You declare with the utmost sincerity, sparking hopes in their chest, but your face shows no traces of reconciliation. “Now you got what you came for, so leave me alone.”

“We thought you’d accept us back, and we thought you’d be fine with us now.” Sunghoon’s frustration is more than apparent in the way he speaks to you, reminding you the times when he was insufferable. “Two nights ago, you wanted us, and you let us fuck you. Is this your way to play mind games with us?”

“It’s true I wanted you to fuck me that night, but it was nothing too personal. Can you blame me for not getting someone to fuck me as good as you did?” Piercing mockery laces your tone, aligning with the cruelty that forms a smirk on your tinted lips as you revel in the way they look evidently hurt and angry at the thought of you sleeping with someone else. ”Don’t be mad, now. It was only fair that I do the same thing like you did to me in the past. I mean, you did prey on me to use me and get me to be your personal slut.”

“You’re so cruel, baby.” Jay mutters, his steely demeanour melting into something that displays a rare vulnerability. “You have no idea how miserable we felt after you left. You didn’t even give us some heads up, unlike you did with Sunoo, Jungwon, and Riki.”

“You have no right to feel miserable, especially when you weren’t the ones who received such dehumanising words thrown at you every single day!” You retort vehemently, and this time, tears prickle in your eyes at the recollection. “So now you’re blaming me when you could’ve come and told me the truth yourself about the entire thing instead of them!”

Sunghoon scoffs in disbelief, his chiselled jaw tightening afterwards while his eyes level with your glaring ones. “But would you even have listened to us, let alone seen us?”

“But you could’ve tried! If you wanted me that bad, then you should’ve tried harder!” You hold back a sob, your voice trembling as you pour out the things you held back for a long time. “But no, you didn’t even bother to reach out to me for days when I thought that you were the ones entirely responsible for what happened!”

“We were busy searching for Taehyun when we thought he was the mastermind before we finally found out about Beomgyu.” Heeseung saunters forward in your direction, intending to comfort you as the hurt written all over your face hits him in the gut. Heeseung exchanges glances with his best friends, who give him collective nods. “It’s not only that, but we felt guilty because we didn’t listen to you in the first place to delete them, so we couldn’t face you, and we doubted that you wanted to see our faces.”

You hear him, you hear his reasoning, and a part of you knows that you can’t blame him for their doubts in the first place, as things back then were taut with agonising tension. Your sensibility is convincing you that they were being considerate and didn’t want to aggravate the situation back then. Maybe if communication was anchored between you and them, then you would not have felt as deeply wounded as you were.

The four of them observe you, noticing that you seem to grapple with your emotions and how things got escalated. They wish to comfort you and embrace you like they used to, but they heard you. They heard the clarity in your hatred for them.

You blink your tears away, trying your utmost not to crumble in front of them after all the efforts you built yourself into becoming the better and stronger version of yourself, unlike the old Y/N Kang.

Rallying your frayed nerves, you muster the courage to look at them dead in the eyes, and yet, your eyes are conveying such a plea that renders them devastated once more. “I’m tired, and it’s been a long day. I don’t want to keep arguing with you like this, so please.” Your shaky voice betrays your tenacity. “Please leave.”

Reluctancy holds them back, and they so desperately want to fix everything they have broken, but they know that they can’t do it just overnight. Jake dares himself to try to reach out to you, but the sound of footsteps garners their attention to Jennifer, who, unbeknownst to you, has heard everything, ambling into the living room.

Jennifer’s presence provides you little comfort, but it is enough for you to lean slightly towards her moral support. Her icily glaring eyes as she stares at them convey a silent message to the four to leave, and it is final.

Eventually, they have no choice but to concede, seeing their way out, but as they brush past you, they struggle to fight against their instinctive urges to hold you close. You look away from them while their distinctive cologne infiltrating your senses seems to bring more memories that taunt you in your head.

As soon as the door closes, Jennifer’s austere demeanour melts, replaced by the usual protectiveness and concern for you as she advances towards you. “Y/N─”

“I’m fine, Jen.” You insist strongly, giving her a tight smile before you make your way to the kitchen island. “What I need is that wine you bought.”

It isn’t long until you and Jennifer settle by the kitchen island, silence engulfing both of you that feels painfully foreign, but after what happened just before this, it just doesn’t feel right to resort to normalcy.

As Jennifer places down her empty glass, she bites down her lips, contemplating whether or not to let you know. A sigh leaves her lips as she has decided. “I eavesdropped on you. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. It doesn’t matter either.” You state bluntly, while your nonchalance only makes Jennifer feel sceptical. Your hollow eyes are staring into oblivion. “We’re done for good, anyway.”

“I doubt that. As much as I don’t like them, I know that they’ll come back to you again soon.” Jennifer says, treading with her words carefully.

“Please, Jen, let’s not have a conversation about them. We’re here to have fun and drink away our sorrows.” You chuckle dryly before meeting her concerned eyes. You shoot her a lopsided smile, raising the glass of wine leisurely in the air. “Here’s a toast to my past trying to fuck me up again. Besides, there is nothing better than to drown your heartbreak with wine."

But it doesn’t get better, as their stark absence from your apartment only seems to hurt you instead of relieving you.

TAGLIST:

@aishigrey @kgneptun @smg-valeria @lhspeachie @enhaverse713586

@strxwbloody @firstclassjaylee @jwnghyuns @deobitifull @loumin908

@sousydive @pinkkami @skzenhalove @caravm @shinrjj

@loljaeyunz @yorukoshii @nshmrarki @lol6sposts

@lilyuwon @enha-crumbs @slut4hee @capri-cuntz @kaykay11sworld

@firesunflames @notevenheretbh1 @parksunghoonsgf @luvkpopp @eastleighsblog

@in-somnias-world @nyxtwixx @theresawtf @fuxktaekook @readbyjjk

@yunhoswrldddd @fuxktaekook @bobaikeu @minjaexvz @heelariously

#enhypen smut #enhypen x fem reader #enhypen hyung line #the devil’s knights’ prey #heeseung #jay #jake #sunghoon

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mv1simp · 1 month

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Masterlist 💖

Requests: Open!! 😼

started this for the lolz idk how max verstappen seduced me into writing fanfic again 10 years after my last piece (a one direction wattpad classic at age 12), with a full time job and living on the opposite side of the globe but here we go 🏎️🏎️ do NOT repost/translate my writing I only post on tumblr so lmk if u see anything sus 🤨

MAX VERSTAPPEN (F1) X READER.

♥️ Into It - smut, romantic

the one where you’re trying to seduce your loving, sweet boyfriend into giving it to you good and rough.

READ PART ONE HERE (4k word count)

READ PART TWO HERE (4k word count)

READ PART THREE HERE (2.5k word count)

♥️ Dark Paradise - smut, dark

the one where innocent virgin!reader has been pining after her older brother’s best friend!Max.

READ IT HERE (5.5k word count)

♥️ Wicked Games - smut, toxic

the one where you hate playboy! Max after he broke your heart in a toxic situationship, but you two can't stay away from each other.

READ IT HERE (3.1k word count)

♥️ Friends - smut, dark

the one where innocent, virgin!reader asks childhood best friend! Max to help her get a boyfriend.

READ IT HERE (3.3k word count)

♥️ Popular - smut, enemies to lovers

the one where reporter!reader apologises to Mad Max after always pissing him off in interviews for the views.

READ IT HERE (4k word count)

♥️ What You Need - smut, dark

the one where innocent virgin! Reader recently started dating RB driver, Daniel. But it’s his younger, faster and richer ex teammate Max who treats you better - and he won’t stop until you’re all his.

READ IT HERE (4k word count)

♥️ Gods&Monsters - smut, dark

the one where you’re Lewis’s innocent sister, and are desperate to be a driver. Even if it means obediently following the coaching of your family's enemy, Max Verstappen.

READ IT HERE (3.4k word count)

♥️ Earned It - smut, romantic

the one where you and your devoted husband, Max, are happily married with your three pets for years. One night, he surprises you by bringing up the topic of having a real baby.

READ IT HERE (5.7k word count)

♥️ Low Life - smut, dark

the one where Mad Max decides to get back at his antagonising boss by using his precious bratty daughter who's promised she'll save herself for marriage.

READ IT HERE (5.2k word count)

♥️ Into You - humour, romantic

the one where you’re Max Verstappen’s new race engineer. Great news for women in motorsport! There’s just one problem though…you’ve been secretly in love with the Dutchman for years.

READ IT HERE (3.2k word count)

♥️ Just Hold On, We’re Going Home - smut, romantic

the one where you and your fiancé, Max, grew up under the weight of demanding fathers. After a bad race where Max ends up in a low place mentally, you know how to make him feel better.

READ IT HERE (3.1k word count)

♥️ Cuffing Szn - smut, romantic

the one where you find your beauty under harsh scrutiny from Max's fans when you go public. He uses a rather…hands on method to prove you have nothing to worry about.

READ IT HERE (3.3k word count)

♥️ Streets - smut, humour

the one where you’re the exasperated PR Manager for notorious playboy!Max. But when you’re sick of cleaning up his PR messes, he offers a very practical solution to your problem.

READ IT HERE (4.7k word count)

♥️ Double Fantasy - smut, dark

the one where you’ve landed your dream job as a FIA executive as Toto Wolff's pretty daughter. You’re eager to become Lando’s girlfriend…until he hands you over as an apology gift to Max.

READ IT HERE (5.6k word count)

♥️ Haunted - smut, enemies to lovers

the one where you're Mercedes' new rookie driver, and your very late presentation makes your relationship with your rival, Max, turn upside down. Omegaverse AU

READ IT HERE (5.4k word count)

♥️ Girls Need Love -smut, romantic

the one where you’re Carlos’ younger sister, the inexperienced, shy princess of your family. But when you meet his friend Max, you can’t hold back your want anymore…and neither can he.

READ IT HERE (5k word count)

♥️ High For This - smut, dark

the one where you're Ferrari's princess and often fight the Dutch Lion in wheel to wheel battles. But on a night out, you find there's something in the air (or in your drink) that makes you give into secret desires for your rival, Max.

READ IT HERE (3.7k word count)

#max verstappen smut #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #f1 smut #f1 fanfic #formula 1 #f1 imagine #masterlist #fanfiction #f1 x reader #max verstappen x oc

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ozzgin · 10 months

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Yandere! Monster x Reader [Werewolf]

In Romanian mythology, Pricolici is an evil spirit believed to be born after the death of wicked humans, able to transform into certain animals such as ferocious dogs and wolves. The etymology is unknown, although it's suspected to be of Dacian origin, thus going as far back in time as the 1st century BC. An ancient creature has set its predatory eyes on you.

Winner of the Folklore Monster Poll celebrating Romanian history!

TW: obsessive behavior, violence, death

[Horror Masterlist] [More Headcanons]

He can tell it's a dream. Nonetheless, it always feels unbearably real. He can smell the incense, hear the hurried trample of feet underneath him. He wants to open his mouth and demand they stop. No words ever come out, the throat is dry and flattened by heavy despair. It's a dream, after all. The priests march on, and the spears are lifted. For a moment, he's blinded by their powerful, sharp glisten. As he gazes at the sacred circle, it occurs to him just how uncomfortable the shackles are. He becomes somewhat distracted by this irritating friction, so much he doesn't register the instructions given by the mysterious men.

Centuries later, he would stumble upon an old history book by Herodotus that detailed his misfortune:

"The Getae are the bravest of the Thracians and the most just. They believe they are immortal, forever living, in the following sense: they think they do not die and that the one who dies joins Zalmoxis, a divine being. Every four years, they send a messenger to Zalmoxis, who is chosen by chance. They ask him to tell Zalmoxis what they want on that occasion. The mission is performed in the following way: men standing there for that purpose hold three spears; other people take the one who is sent to Zalmoxis by his hands and feet and fling him in the air on the spears. If he dies pierced, they think that the divinity is going to help them; if he does not die, it is he who is accused and they declare that he is a bad person. And, after he has been charged, they send another one. The messenger is told the requests while he is still alive."

The foreign hands tighten around his limbs and he takes a deep breath in, ready for the plunge. Truth be told, he's not too anxious. The first time was terrifying, but one becomes accustomed to death if it repeats itself, night after night as the years pass and millennia settle over it, like a thick blanket of ash and bone and dust. He doesn't remember the pain anymore, only the bitterness. The wrath. He had no business playing God's messenger. He hadn't wished to be choking on his own blood, rippling violently at the corners of his mouth as his eyes dart over the excited masses. There are claps and cheers, and hope, and peace. Just not for him.

No matter, if they long so dearly after eternity, he'll become their very proof. A tangible undead, a creature of eternity. Let them gaze at their ardent desire as it claws their bowels out for the birds to feed on. Let them sing praise before their God as their soft throats detangle under his fangs. Before he knows it, the corpses lay mangled at his feet and he notices his horrid reflection swaying in the puddles of fresh blood.

He has become a beast.

And just like that, the nightmare ends. It always ends here. He pats the sweat off his forehead with the monotonous vigor of habit. It's already noon and the narrow street flocks with curious tourists and natives on their stroll. Every now and then he will venture into the city, just to get a glimpse of the world. He twists the knob and opens a window, enjoying the breeze that cools his skin. His tired eyes wander around with no purpose.

That's when he sees you. Your wide, carefree smile as you converse with your friend. You're drawing circles along the edge of your coffee cup, propped over the table, entranced by your discussion. Your gentle laugh rings unexpectedly loud against his ears. He finds himself frozen in place, unable to contract a single muscle.

"Oh, this trail is supposed to have some really nice sights." Your friend is shuffling through unfolded maps, spread out onto the small café table. "We should leave pretty early though, otherwise it'll get dark before the return."

You groan at the idea. Your friend responds with a chuckle.

"Remember, our tour guide joked about werewolves roaming the outskirts. Do you want to be eaten?" She inquires with a cheeky grin.

"You know I have a thing for monsters." You answer with a wink.

The jokes carry on until the bill arrives, and you eventually stand up and merrily make your way down the street. For a brief moment you feel a cold shiver running down your spine, so you peek back inquisitively. Nothing out of the ordinary.

Ah. By the time his focus returns, the sun is setting, reflecting its crimson rays over the old cobblestone. You've been gone for a while, so he must've been staring into the nothingness for good hours. He clears his throat, mildly embarrassed by his absent-mindedness. He isn't hungry, so he has trouble explaining his sudden captivation with a random human.

Even more bizarre is the consequence of the accidental encounter. The following nights are devoid of the usual torment. Has he ever had a peaceful slumber before? He can't recall. And yet here he is, vacantly eyeing the ceiling without the labored breath or cold shivers, faintly reminiscing about your amused expression. He frowns slightly at the realization that his recollection seems to contain less details compared to yesterday. Your face is smudged by the intense light of the noon, titled at an angle that allows no shadows to discern the features. What will he do when it's entirely gone? A faceless memory, anchored in the depths of his heart as a reminder of what could've been. Is there some universal law that dictates only misery remains unforgotten, or is he just exceptionally unlucky? Infuriating.

The overwhelming sensation creeps upon him again. A primordial vengefulness that hasn't yet released him from its cold, bony fingers. For once, can't he be granted fairness? His jaw clenches and he marches out of the room.

Tonight shall be a feast.

The lights are still on in the little tavern inn, and through the small windows he can make out the lively movement of the people inside. He glances at the waning moon one final time. The world may change, and the years may pass, but one thing has never left him throughout the centuries. Always bearing the same pallid, melancholic countenance, his taciturn companion rises, indifferent to the Universe.

His back arches outwards, the bones tear and twist, the joints dislocate and the skin is giving way to coarse, thick fur. His eyes now carry an amber glow as they rest on the modest building. Without further hesitation, he pounces on the door and it folds like cardboard under his inhuman strength. The room goes quiet and all heads turn to him. He recognizes that look. A fleeting second of fear and curiosity, before true panic settles in. But they rarely have the time to scream. Just as the vocal chords contract and vibrate, their chests are trashed and limbs are tattered. Splattered visceral remains and blood coat the ground under his feral attack.

You squeeze your eyes closed and force your hands over your mouth to ensure your stillness to the massacre. You were just returning from the bathroom when you heard the wails and the wet sounds of mutilated flesh. You'd ducked behind the wall and hid under an end table. What the hell is that creature? You initially thought a wild wolf had somehow made its way into the tavern, but no animal can be this large. There is a backdoor, but on the other side of this hall. You'd have to sprint across the archway that leads into the main room. Then again, if it's this busy ripping the others apart...

No need to ponder your options much. Silence falls behind you, which means the creature must have finished its horrid sport early. His snout picks up a particular scent and he tenses up, expectantly. Could it be?

The wooden parquet tiles creak under the weight of foreign footsteps; a human approaching you. You look up from under the table. Has someone dealt with the beast? Although you immediately regret revealing yourself. You freeze in your spot, hands propped on the ground, like prey awaiting execution.

The man is unnaturally tall, having to crouch under the ceiling, with wild black hair and rough features. His chiseled face is painted red, and his clothing is torn apart and soaked in blood. His large hands end in sharp claws, and amid his ruffled locks you can distinguish animal ears.

There you are.

Well, quite the irony to meet you here of all times and places. From this distance, you look even prettier. He bends over slightly to examine the details that have faded since the first encounter. A surreal experience, really. Seeing you kneel right in front of him and not as a figment of his imagination. He extends his fingers over your face and presses his nails in, leaving a vague trail of swollen, red skin. What a frail being you are.

"Your friend is alive, by the way." His deep, dissonant voice pierces the silence.

"O-oh." You gasp. You were so anxious you barely understood the meaning of his words.

"You may check on her if you so desire, however..."

He considers it. Normally, even after allowing his anger to seep into cadavers and ruins, all he's left with is disgust and emptiness. Yet your presence seems to fill him with unfamiliar comfort. If one is drowning, is it truly selfish to hold onto the first thing that keeps them afloat? The only people who'd condemn such beggar are the ones that have never been underwater. They don't know what it's like to have your lungs tighten and collapse under the heavy pressure, waving your arms towards a surface that's never reached.

"...You'll be coming with me afterwards."

You can only stare.

"Don't worry, I won't kill you." He attempts to simulate a smile. "I suppose I'm not too convincing like this", he jokes as he gestures towards his body, "But you have my word I'll never harm you."

"Why, though?" You manage to stutter, frowning in confusion.

He's taken aback by your inquiry. Perhaps his statement is indeed more threatening than anything else. On the other hand, he hasn't conversed with humans in...longer than he can remember. What might pose as convincing in this case? Drawing out a rose and confessing his undying love among the bodies he murdered feels rather ridiculous. Suddenly, a passage he's once read comes to mind. At the time, it depressed him greatly. Now it feels like the only fitting reasoning.

"Do you believe in destiny? That even the powers of time can be altered for a single purpose? That the luckiest man who walks on this earth is the one who finds… true love?"

"Isn't that from Stoker's Dracula? How is it-"

You pause and search his eyes. Golden trenches of loneliness and gloom. Your heart is heavy and your mouth curls into a grimace the longer you stare into these pools swirling with agony.

"I understand." Is all you can mutter as you stand up.

Have you had a choice to begin with? Not even the frothing waves of a storming ocean can come between a dying man and his only raft.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere x darling #yandere fic #yandere imagines #yandere monster #yandere monster x reader #monster x reader #werewolf x reader #yandere werewolf #female reader #gender neutral reader #yandere horror #horror x reader #yandere oc #romanian folklore #daos

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byuntrash101 · 6 months

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𖤐 𝕯𝖆𝖒𝖓𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓 𝖔𝖋 𝖆 𝕾𝖆𝖎𝖓𝖙 𖤐

pairing — fem!nun!reader x sin of lust!seonghwa ft. ateez as the other sins

rating — smut | mdni

wc — 13.7k

synopsis — life is dull when you are an immortal being such as seonghwa. every day is the same and you live (or rather, merely exist) through the times crushed by the burden of boredom. until something new comes along in the form of a kind, compassionate and righteous newly ordained nun. and so the sin of lust makes it his personal mission to corrupt the purest of souls: yours.

nsfw tags under the cut

tags — *strap up babes this is a wild one*, a tad of plot, my attempt at humor, heavy religious/blasphemous themes (don't read if you're uncomfy <3), inclusive writing (reader is not physically described), also reader is the embodiment of purity, 20240127 hwa (moodboard here), kinda slow burn kinda vibes, so much tensionnn, mentions of a pxrn magazine, sooo much teasing, hot make out sesh, dom!hwa, also very sly demon!hwa, virgin!reader, supernatural sex, corruption kink (obviously), masturbation (f), oral (f), the (un)holy trinity =teasing, begging, mind breaking), thigh riding, nipple play, clit play, some light impact play (kitty slaps + 1 face slap), breath play, hair pulling, fingering (f), monster cock!hwa, size training, pet names (angel, love, darling, sweetheart), praising, degradation (slut, whore), unprotected sex (don’t recommend), denied and ruined orgasm (f), dumbification, multiple orgasms (f), overstim, an ungodly amount of cum, cumflation, lil breeding kink at the very end

playlist — me and the devil by soap&skin, unholy by sam smith, going to hell by the pretty reckless, smells blood by kensuke ushio, american horror show by snow wife, toc toc toc by zazie

ateez masterlist | navigation

a/n: i had an absolute blast working over my fave fic ever posted. i love it even more now <3

also wanted to say a special thank you to @hwaightme who really helped me pulled through with one <3 ily bai <3333

Seonghwa was bored out of his mind. Like he had been for decades now, even centuries. He couldn’t remember what it was like to feel… well… anything at all really. And after years upon years of vegetating he didn’t care enough to even try anymore. He just laid there, endlessly staring blankly at the emptiness. He tapped his slender finger on his thigh, comfortably set on the bed of dark purple smoke he had materialized out of thin air.

He let out an audible annoyed groan as he was nonchalantly stretching out his long limbs which didn’t fail to catch the attention of the others.

“What’s wrong?” Yeosang asked as he was feasting on some delicious meal he poofed out magically. He didn’t even take a second to look up the bucket full of chicken drumsticks, wrapping his greasy fingers around the bone and eyeing the meat like one would their life long partner. But then again, that wasn’t too far from the truth for Yeosang.

“I’m bored” Seonghwa complained, pushing his long silky black hair back on his forehead and choosing to ignore Yeosang’s lack of interest, dragging out the word on his tongue, transmitting his state of utter apathy to the others.

“Why don’t you go up and play with the Humans?” Mingi suggested while checking himself out in the mirror, readjusting his bangs and sliding his sunglasses up the bridge of his nose before striking a pose to himself, remaining completely self absorbed.

Once again, Seonghwa wasn’t getting much attention from his counterparts but he was somewhat used to it when it came to Mingi.

“What’s the point? They are no fun anyways!” Seonghwa sat up straight and crossed his long elegant legs on the cloud of cotton like smoke.

“Why?” Jongho asked, unlike the others he deigned looking in Seonghwa’s direction with somewhat surprised eyes. “You used to love going around and breaking up happy marriages, luring men and women in with your charms… That was always fun!” He said a little sluggishly, but still with as much enthusiasm as he could muster.

“Yeah… Maybe it was…” Seonghwa replied. “Two millenniums ago…” Another prolonged sigh. “When everything still felt fresh.” He got up from the comfortable cloud of smoke, pacing the endless void as his heels clacked and echoed with each step. “Now I know that Humans are only self centered vile creatures who only claim to have better morals than us because they are scared of the consequences that inevitably ensue from succumbing to their primal desires. When in fact, all they want is to eat, kill, have sex or not do anything at all. They are nothing short of underdeveloped, unevolved, spineless piles of meat”

“Meat? Where?” Yeosang said, finally lifting his head from the bucket of fried chicken to look around, eyes rounded in panic.

Not a single one of them reacted except Mingi who side eyed him with disdain before returning to more important matters at hand such as swapping the aviator sunglasses for narrower, more rectangular ones.

“That’s not entirely false” Jongho concluded, shrugging, easily giving up on the idea of comforting Seonghwa.

“I mean where’s the fun if you can’t break their minds to give in?” Seonghwa placed both hands on Jongho's shoulders, slightly shaking him while the latter lifelessly swayed back and forth. “What is the point if they don’t resist the call of evil? If you can’t erode their will like a rock made smooth by the incessant beating of the waves of the cruel sea.” Seonghwa huffed in a quiet, defeated voice, letting go of Jongho's shoulders to let his arms hang at his side while the other one stared at him blankly.

“Hm… okay” Jongho said before slipping off Seonghwa's reach to take his place on the fluffy bed of purple smoke, crashing head first onto the soft cloud.

A silence settled for what seemed like a long moment, even for them, immutable creatures to whom the very concept of time couldn't grasp at their permanence.

“Well you never tried with that girl…” Wooyoung said, slithering his way to Seonghwa without a sound. He had been watching the scene unfold from afar up until then. “What was her name already?” He snapped his fingers and looked to the side trying to access his memory. He turned to Mingi for help but he was too busy looking through the mirror, slipping on yet another dangling necklace and smirking, satisfied at the results. Wooyoung then tried his luck with Yeosang but he now had his face buried in a huge bowl of chicken broth, the empty bucket of fried chicken abandoned and slurping up a big mouthful of noodles in a rather unpleasant way. “Jongho?” he called, finally settling for the one that looked almost passed out on the bed of smoke, but still this one wielded the most positive result.

“Y/n” Jongho responded without conviction, still laying flat on the cloud of smoke, eyes growing heavier by the second.

“Yeah! That’s right!” Wooyoung exclaimed. “That girl is unbreakable,” he affirmed. Seonghwa scoffed and threw an unconvinced look to his peer.

“No really! I’ve tried to corrupt her but I really couldn’t”. Wooyoung said, raising his brows and talking loudly to support his point. But that did little to persuade Seonghwa, he was convinced that Wooyoung was just not as good as him at breaking the mortals’ souls. So yes, it was possible that Wooyoung had struggled with that girl. But not him, surely not him.

When Wooyoung saw Seonghwa was not budging his face dropped, and he turned to the others. “Please someone back me up on this one”

“Oh yeaaah… I remember her” Yeosang said, voice cut by various sounds of loud lips smacking and open mouth chewing. “Even I tried!”

Now, that was different. Seonghwa was interested. Most people are quick to indulge themselves when it comes to food. It was, so to speak, the easiest sin of the seven to succumb to. The Humans often say “there’s always room for dessert” and innocently eat a generous slice of cake after devouring a full meal. They don’t even notice Yeosang forcing the big spoon full of buttery sugary goodness into their mouths. They don’t even know Yeosang, himself, made this saying.

“She refused to even do as much as taste the delicious meal I made her sister cook for her even though she was starving… instead she gave it to the homeless man living not far from her apartment.” Yeosang stated with aberration shaking his head in disappointment before plunging right back in the ramyeon bowl.

“Hmmm” Seonghwa scratched his chin, his curiosity for the mysterious righteous girl was piqued.

“One day I tried to make her give in” Jongho chipped in from the dark purple smoke bed, even pushing himself on his elbows to look at the others, to Seonghwa’s surprise. “Made her miss the train and the bus she needed to take to get home after work and conveniently laid a juicy wallet stuffed full of even juicier bills in the gutter. All she had to do was to bend down and get the money to take a taxi to her apartment. But instead she took the money and walked to the police station to report the lost wallet, which was in the opposite direction by the way and then walked back home only to take a shower and leave right after to attend the charity soup kitchen. Anddd… Explaining this made me tired. Please don't talk to me for the next two hundred years, thank you.” Jongho concluded in one single breath before laying back down and turning on his side to nap comfortably.

“Maybe that one can be interesting after all” Seonghwa thought aloud, his pretty face taking on a pensive frown, his sharp brows joining on his forehead.

“Yeah no kidding” Wooyoung added. “And you don’t know the best part yet…” A perfidious and sly smile pulled on his handsome features. “She was just ordained nun.”

Seonghwa’s face turned serious as his eyes snapped back to Wooyoung. All of a sudden the girl went from distraction of the day to possibly the ultimate challenge of corruption Seonghwa has been waiting for god knows how long (and he surely did not use the expression lightly).

“Don’t mess with me, Envy!” Seonghwa spat, suddenly calling Wooyoung by his biblical name, testifying the gravity of his statement.

“I’m not kidding, Lust” Wooyoung mocked Seonghwa’s serious tone by also using his sin name. “She decided the life of material things wasn’t the way to happiness so she devoted herself to a humbler one, gifting her time and belongings to the poor and destitutes while she devoted her body to God. God only…” Wooyoung said, feigning nonchalance while he snaked an arm around Seonghwa’s shoulders. “Look… Here she is” he purred in his neck.

With a flick of his wrist, green smoke emanated from thin air and formed a pierced circle where in the middle the reflection of a girl could be seen. She was quiet, in the very humble room, a single window shone down onto the bed as she knelt at its side, palms joined, retreated into silent prayers.

She’s perfect.

That was Seonghwa’s first thought as an obscene smirk tugged at his mouth, his tongue swiping across his lips making them shiny and wet. He eyed the girl kneeling by the bed as he lowered his chin, one strand of hair falling over the piercing siren eyes. The black and white uniform she was wearing, the habit, couldn’t fool the seasoned eyes of Seonghwa. All the fabric in the world couldn’t hide away the glorious curves of her body, the beautiful arch of her back leading to the roundness of her bottom gently resting on her heels. The holy swells of her chest softly lifting the thick black material of the habit and the simple wooden cross held by humble twine she was wearing around her neck.

Divine.

Was what described her best.

“She’s stunning,” Seonghwa huffed in a soft murmur, mesmerized and captivated by the image Wooyoung was showing him. And he smirked in victory, relishing on the way he had convinced his peer, once again living up to his name and very nature.

“Yeah I know.” Mingi said, finally turning his face away from his reflection to address Seonghwa. “I thought with such a pretty face she’d be easy to convince that she’s above everyone else and just make her a pretentious too-far-up-her-own-ass bitch. But I quickly realized she was a lost cause” he concluded, shrugging and stepping away from the mirror, sitting down next to Jongho, already fast asleep only to materialize another handheld mirror. seconds later.

“Yes…” Seonghwa spoke softly as he stared intensely at the girl. “She just might do.”

***

You were on cleaning duty at the church today after the mass. Even if the church was quite big it didn’t intimidate you. You settled the two buckets of warm soapy water and your floor cloth before tying your hair up in a rather unaesthetic but very practical hairdo and stretched your shoulders before giving yourself a determined little nod.

You started with scrubbing the ancient cobblestone of the old church with soap and a lot of elbow grease. Then you immediately followed up with dusting the chairs, the altar and the numerous effigies.

You diligently washed, dusted, scrubbed, cleaned, polished, until everything was neat and right. Simply happy and content with the idea of being useful to the community. The rhythmic sounds of your hard bristle brush against the pavements were setting the pace of the silence which helped you connect to the spiritual nature of the ancient place of worship.

But as you were tidying the confessional booth you noticed a small piece of colorful paper peeking from underneath the bench lined with worn burgundy red velvet. When your hands reached under the seat and hazardly caught the object you knew it was a magazine from the glossy feeling of the paper underneath your fingertips and when you finally let your eyes fall on it you realized the nature of the magazine.

Porn. A pornographic magazine.

The cover displayed several nude women adopting very suggestive poses, one of them even dangerously leaning her face towards the intimate parts of another one.

The obscene imagery made your heart race and you started to feel dizzy. You sat yourself on the bench and rested the lewd magazine in your lap. You took a deep breath and, very slowly, parted the red curtains to make sure you were alone in the church. Then you opened the magazine and flipped the cover page.

“Oh my… Look at that! She is flipping the pages!” Yeosang exclaimed.

“Oh she’s definitely curious about it,” Mingi laughed, his lips stretching into a satisfied half smile. But Seonghwa was more cautious, he refused to believe it just yet. Something about your body language was not right.

“Shhh” he shushed the others and motioned for them to keep looking through the green smoke.

As your fingers glided across each page. You felt hot in the face with each scene more obscene than the last one, tension building in your neck.

Seonghwa didn’t lose sight of you for a second, his lips curling on his teeth in a vicious smile as your trembling fingers went over every single page, your wide open eyes darting to every corner of each page. He could almost hear your heart thumping in your chest he could almost taste the adrenaline in your blood.

When you came to the end of it and closed out the magazine you sighed, letting your shoulders drop, closing your eyes in relief.

“Well…” you started “nobody left their name in it” you said to yourself, completely unaware the demons were spying on your every move. Not that you expected that anybody would leave their signature in such a piece of literature but still you had to at least try to find the rightful owner before taking actions.

A loud complaint erupted from the demons. All in disbelief. You looked at the magazine, true. But it was not for an impure purpose. It was only in the hopes of finding the name of the true owner and hopefully, returning it back to them. You had no interest in the salacious scenes presented in the glossy pages. The rushing blood to your cheeks wasn’t due to any feeling of arousal or libidinousness. It was only the shame of invading someone’s privacy.

Once again your intentions were completely commendable. Immaculate.

As the demons protested and complained, Seonghwa, on the other hand, stayed completely silent as he watched you bring the magazine to a trash bin without an ounce of regret. He wasn’t disappointed, he was excited. He felt excitement. A feeling so distant and faded that it felt foreign. Seonghwa had forgotten all about this thrill. He didn’t remember how tingles tickled the tip of his cold fingers or how his guts swirled around in frenzy. This feeling was joy. Pure joy. Sweet intoxicating euphoria. And it was all thanks to you.

“I’m gonna have so much fun with you” he whispered to you, as if you could hear him, his eyes glued to the reflection in the pierced circle of deep green smoke, he whispered to the image of the unsuspecting girl discarding the impure magazine. A paltry, too poor of a stratagem to have you yield to the darkness. You, the pious and saintly nun.

***

You never really liked cooking, before you joined the covenant your sister was always the one in the kitchen preparing delicious home cooked meals for the family. But what you did like on the other hand was helping. Usually you cleaned up the kitchen but when your sister was running out of time she would ask you to peel the vegetables or cut them. So naturally cutting the vegetables was not your favorite task around the convent. You liked cleaning and tidying up better. Only because you were more on the active side and you liked how cleaning would make you break up a sweat when the whole monastery needed a dust off but nonetheless what you liked most was to help the community. And knowing the soup you were cooking up with the help of two of your sisters was going to feed everyone was a fulfilling feeling. Well enough to make you happy.

So you were contemplating life cutting off the homegrown zucchinis when Sister Chaeyoung started to giggle. You didn’t pay much attention until Sister Nayeon started to snicker along with her.

You lift your eyes up and the both of them instantly stiffened up and started to act suspicious.

“What are you laughing about you two?” you asked, an amused smile playing on your lips.

“Oh nothing” Nayeon said, hiding something behind her back.

“Come on, I want to laugh too” you said, the smile spreading further on your face, lifting up your cheeks adorably.

You three were the youngest in the convent so you did many duties together, you grew quite close with the girls.

Chaeyoung ripped something from Nayeon’s hand and proudly showed it to you.

“Look at this carrot” she said, puffing an adorable laugh.

It was true the carrot had quite the… interesting shape. First of all it was quite large, abnormally thick for a simple carrot. Homegrown vegetables were never like the perfectly shaped ones you could find at the store and it was definitely the case for this one. It had a slight upward curve and the extremity had a very distinctive shape. It was phallic.

You delicately took the vegetable from the hands of Chaeyoung to examine the orange root closely.

It was almost unnatural how close the resemblance was, like it couldn’t be due to fortuity… The thick tip, the robust and curved upright shaft, the asperities reminiscent of the blood engorged veins, even the small slit at the top… The details were impressive.

“Look look” Mingi exclaimed, nudging Seonghwa in the ribs as he observed you through the green fog. “She looks interested. I think she’s done this time”. He declared self-assured, cocking a single eyebrow. But Seonghwa remained completely silent but a smirk pulled on his lips when he noticed how you were eyeing the forbidden vegetable (no pun intended), how your throat seemed to thickly swallow and how your lip slightly trembled.

It felt so empowering, finally getting to chip away at your strong willed spirit, finally getting lust to creep under your skin. For these long seconds of contemplation, Seonghwa could only imagine the wicked places your mind raced to. But right when he was about to open his mouth and declare victory. You laughed.

Seonghwa’s eyes nearly popped out of their sockets as this laugh ripped through him, like a dagger through the skin.

You laughed so openly, your head hung back, eyes creased. The laugh was like the rest of you, joyful, clear and pure.

You are only amused by such a coincidence. Nothing more, nothing less. Of course it was funny and you were never the stuck up kind and it felt right to have a bit of lighthearted fun with your younger sisters.

“I guess she’s only laughing at your stupid tricks,” Wooyoung said, his sly smirk mocking Seonghwa’s failure.

“Fuck off Wooyoung” Seonghwa spat as he watched the scene unfold.

The three of you just laughed, enjoying this bonding moment together while the stricter, older sisters and the Mother Superior weren’t there to dim down your childish and silly amusement. It was just some playful, innocent humor to you.

Nothing to shake your faith or virtue.

“Now let’s finish up the soup, girls” you said, setting the amusing carrot on the cutting board. Before chopping it up and tossing the pieces in the big pot.

“Maybe we should have kept it” Chaeyoung whispered with pouty lips. “It could have been useful.”

“Don’t be silly,” you replied with a smile.

Seonghwa felt anger bubbling up in his stomach and rushing through his veins to burn down his chest and neck. As much as he hated to admit it… Wooyoung was right, these stupid tricks were no match for the unwavering righteousness of your mind. These would certainly suffice if it was any other soul but not yours. Not you.

So Seonghwa resolved to resort to drastic measures. Something he hasn’t done for centuries. But something necessary. This anger he felt, the deception upon failing once again. He hadn’t felt that in so long, he felt alive finally. It was ironic how an immortal soul would forget how to feel alive for the simple reason that nothing is a threat to their existence. Their presence is immutable, infinite, certain. Therefore unexciting, monotonous and lifeless.

The negative feelings reminded Seonghwa of a purpose he once had, they reminded him of the stakes that used to be. In a way you reminded Seonghwa what it felt like to feel. You reminded him what it meant to be alive. Him, the unholy and vile Sin of Lust.

***

“You cannot be serious,” Hongjoong exclaimed, rubbing the deep crease between his eyebrows, this conversation was starting to give the Guardian of the Gate a headache.

“I am most certainly serious,” Seonghwa assured. “Now is the best time.”

“Why?” Hongjoong asked. “I’m sorry but I can’t let you through unless you give me a solid explanation.”

“Come on Joongie~” Seonghwa said innocently smiling at him leaning on the smaller man in front of him, wrapping his arms around his waist and tilting his head adorably. “You and I go way back, right?”

“Your ways have no power against me, Lust. You know that.” Hongjoong just looked at him scornfully. “Now if you don’t tell me your plan I’ll shut the gates for the next century.”

“What has this place come to? We used to be able to go and play with humans all day and not get questioned,'' Seonghwa complained, throwing his hands in the air and slipping away from Hongjoong. But the latter didn’t budge. “Fine” Seonghwa spat.

“You see my dear friend, today she’s ovulating. Her body is most likely to respond to the primitive instinct of the survival of the species. Meaning that her spirit is most likely to be weaker.” Seonghwa explained his reasoning.

“But how do you plan on actually interacting with her? You know you won’t be able to have physical contact, you'll go through her like a ghost. Unless she summons you. And I don’t see how or even why she would call your name three times” Wooyoung pointed out, as he was watching the feud from afar.

“I know that I’m not stupid” Seonghwa said with an eyeroll and a sigh. “I won’t need to touch her to break her” he assured.

“But how if she can’t even see you?” Hongjoong yelled, ready to pluck the hair out of his head. Seonghwa was about to become the Guardian's breaking point.

“Hey relax, okay” Seonghwa said, slipping behind the man and gently pinching the muscles of his shoulders. “You are starting to look like San.”

“What did you say about me? “ San yelled from across the empty space, interrupting his card game with Yunho.

“Just play” Yunho instructed with a monotonous fed up tone, pointing his chin towards the deck of cards.

“This game is stupid anyways!!” San screamed before flipping the table over in a loud grunt as the cards flew everywhere, floating gracefully to the ground. Yunho sighed deeply.

“He always does this…” he whispered to himself, getting off the chair and walking to Hongjoong and Seonghwa as Jongho was peacefully snoring close by.

“How can he sleep through this?” Yeosang looked at Jongho in disbelief, as he was stuffing more cheesecake into his mouth. Yunho scoffed.

“How can you eat through this?” Yunho underlined and Yeosang just shrugged before smiling with his mouth still full, earning disgusted grunts and complaints from the others.

“Can we focus for one minute here?” Hongjoong interrupted, desperately trying to get back on track. “How are you going to corrupt her if she can’t see you?”

“Oh but she will see me” Seonghwa smirked.

“Not in the monastery she won’t, not on sacred ground” Wooyoung mocked his overly confident tone.

“It’s true, you know” Yunho chipped in, putting his large palm on Seonghwa’s shoulder. “I can’t believe I’m about to say that but… I think you’re being greedy” Yunho concluded, as Seonghwa whipped his head to him.

“Wow… That’s so out of character for you.”

“Well that should speak volumes about the foolishness of your plan” Yunho shrugged, taking his hand back.

“It’s not foolish because she will see me. For the simple reason that she will invite me in” Seonghwa’s smirk grew wider as silence settled in the unholy space between hell and earth. Wooyoung laughed hysterically, holding his ribs as he wiped off a tear in the corner of his eyes.

“And how will you manage that?” Hongjoong asked with a raised, unimpressed eyebrow.

Just then a chiming sound could be heard in the emptiness. Seonghwa fished out of his pocket a small human device. All in the room looked incredulous As Seonghwa smirked at the small screen illuminating his pretty face.

“Since when did you-” Hongjoong started but Seonghwa simply brought his long pointer finger to his lips and shushed him.

“She’s waiting for me”

***

“A disaster” Mother superior exclaimed as she threw her arms at her side, looking at the flooded basement. “We cannot go to the retreat and leave until the problem is fixed. The humidity can damage the foundations of the monastery. “I’ll stay and sort it out.”

The sisters all let out frustrated sighs.

“You should go Mother” you stepped in. “The sisters need you at the retreat as well as the faithful… I’ll stay and get things in order. You can count on me” you said with a determined nod and a smile, tightly holding the wooden cross on your chest.

As much as you wanted to go. Someone needed to stay, that much was undeniable and the wisdom of the Mother Superior was needed at Lourdes. So it wasn’t without a little sting at the heart that you waved goodbye to a bus full of your friends, your sisters.

You went back in and sighed at the mess. The ancient timber beams were slowly soaking up the stagnant water, the old stones of the walls were being eroded and the humidity was not good news for the cheeses you were maturing, not even mentioning the ruined mushrooms you were about to harvest before the disaster. Of course the boiler was old and rustic but Mother Superior always made sure it was checked annually and repaired when it was needed before any damage could be done. But even the most diligent measures sometimes can’t prevent the unforeseeable hazards of life.

You went back up and searched for a plumber in the local newspaper. Luckily there was an ad for one that was living in town.

Park, plumbing/heating engineering at your service, the flashy ad read.

You looked at the time, it was late afternoon, probably a little too late to take up a new job, but you figured there was still hope he could at least pick up the phone and maybe appoint a day to come have a look at the leakage. You didn’t waste anymore time and dialed the phone number in the ancient and only phone located in the Mother Superior’s office.

As the tone rang you suddenly got nervous. Ever since you joined the convent you didn’t interact much with the outside world except the followers coming to church or the people you were helping. So this upcoming conversation was making you agitated.

“Hello, Park, plumbing and heating engineer, how can I help you?” You are surprised by the voice at the end of the line. You never expected such a smooth, melodic voice to pick up the phone.

“H-Hi! I’m Sister y/n from the Monastery of the Sacred Mission, our basement flooded, we think the boiler possibly needs to be replaced. Is it possible for you to come take a look?”

“Oh! Sorry to hear that. I’m guessing much damage has been done…” his concerned tone somewhat eased your nerves.

“Unfortunately yes”

“I see… I can come right now”

“Really?” you blinked your eyes twice in surprise. “Well that would be marvelous” you said cheerfully “but wouldn’t you be working past hours? I fear there’s quite a lot of work” you ask concerned.

“It’s okay. You help others so much. Now it’s my time to help you” his tone changed, a subtle switch you can’t put into words but the difference sent a shiver down your spine.

“Thank you”

***

“Thank you so much for coming this quickly” you thanked the man as he stood in the impressive frame of the heavy convent door.

You took a step aside to let him in but he just stood before the front steps not moving an inch. You threw him a puzzled look but he just stared back blankly at you. There was a moment of hesitation on his behalf that left you quite perplexed.

“Please come in” you hesitantly said while amicably smiling at the man.

“Thank you” he simply responded, almost sounding relieved.

As soon as he stepped foot in the door frame you felt a cold breeze run on your neck under the habit and shivers run down your spine. Autumn was indeed well advanced now but such cold winds were usually never felt before winter. Of course, you made little of a simple gust of wind.

“Hi. I’m Sister y/n. Nice to meet you” you stuck your hand out to him. He looked down at it and fumbled with the tool boxes but opted for a polite nod instead of a handshake.

“Sorry, I’ve been working all day and my hands are dirty” he laughed nervously “and the name is Seonghwa” he flashed the brightest smile you have ever seen. For a second your heart skipped a beat and a foreign feeling blossomed in your chest. You never expected this unknown plumber to be this handsome.

He had long and shiny raven black hair perfectly framing his face and just as healthy thick eyebrows complimenting the dark, round and benevolent eyes, reminiscent of boba pearls. A long elegant neck, a defined jawline, high cheekbones and tanned olive glossy skin.

His body was cladded in an unbuttoned navy blue overall that let peek out a simple white t-shirt underneath. You could tell the outfit had undergone various difficult jobs as the fabric was thinned out at his knees and had various stains of paints and plaster.

He looked like a kind man. Like the kind of person you would give communion to without confession. The kind of person that just has a good heart. It was that kind of reassuring and warm aura that you felt from him, something that put you at ease right away.

You led him to the faulty boiler.

Right away he got on one knee and started to inspect the recalcitrant piece of machinery.

“Well I’ll leave you to work on your own” you said as you retreated to take your leave. Seonghwa only politely nodded and smiled in your direction before turning his attention back to the problem.

While the plumber was working you put your time to good use and organized the paperwork of the Mother superior. Doing such work was always tedious for her because she wasn’t exactly the organized kind of woman but you were. You knew doing that you would be of great help. Since the task was quite large, it took quite a long time and it’s only when your stomach emitted a loud grumble that you realized the evening was well advanced.

You figured Mr. Park was hungry or at the very least thirsty after working for so long. So you grabbed a metal tray and brought him a set of the specialty sugar cookies the convent was selling along with a generous serving of cold water embellished with a dash of freshly squeezed lemon juice to make sure Mr. Park’s thirst would be thoroughly quenched.

When you passed the archway that was leading to the boiler room your heart nearly stopped beating when your eyes met the working man.

Swiftly you spinned on your feet and hid behind the wall, only peeking an eye out the corner to still be able to witness the novel scene taking place in front of you.

Seonghwa had tightened the sleeves of his blue overalls around his waist and was wiping the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand, clearly the labor was not restful. You couldn’t tell if it was from sweat or from the leaking water but his white t-shirt was wet and sticking to his skin, making the fabric lightly translucid. You could guess the dark pinkish color of his nipples and the outline of his well built body underneath. The short sleeves of his t-shirt were rolled up and were tightly hugging his arms while his long fingers were wrapped around a wrench as each twist of his wrist was making the veins of his forearm bulge out.

You loudly gulped down a lump in your throat. Your hands tightly held onto the tray in fear of letting it fall to your feet.

But your misery was far from over because before you could realize it Seonghwa was pulling on his shirt and passing it over his head. Every muscle of his back moving around, contracting and relaxing in a beautiful dance, shining under the golden hour sun seeping through the small single window of the basement. Water and sweat was running down his back and at his flanks, when he turned around, your eyes dashed around his naked upper body. You couldn’t decide where to settle them. His collarbones, his pecs, his abs, the dent at the sides of his abdomen, his (very) low resting overalls…

Your heart was about to give out. You had seen male bodies before, never in real life that was true but you did once or twice on TV or on billboard ads of men’s underwear.

But, never, you felt something like that. That feeling. This tingly feeling budding in the low pit of your stomach, making your guts stir around, making your palms sweaty, making your heart helplessly hammer against your ribs, making your eyes widen as you couldn’t peel them off the naked wet skin of the handsome stranger. This feeling of immoral interest for another person’s body, this longing for somebody else’s touch.

This feeling of Lust.

It was completely foreign to you.

If it wasn’t for Seonghwa you would have chugged the whole carafe of lemony water by yourself because you never felt your throat as dry as it felt right now.

“Look! Look!” San shouted, wrapping a strong hand around Wooyoung’s forearm and making him wince in pain as they both stared at you through the green smoke. “Y/n is giving in!”

“Look at the way she’s staring at him!” Yeosang said, briefly reaching for a napkin to wipe his mouth.

“Wow” Yunho added “She definitely isn’t thinking about church-appropriate things”. Yunho laughed but Mingi scoffed.

“If she likes him, wait till I show my human form. I’m infinitely more good looking than him”

“Not everything’s about you, Mingi” Yunho scolded him.

With trembling hands you settled the metal tray onto the window sill. You poured a glass of water and presented it to Seonghwa.

“Here” you unexpectedly manage to keep your voice calm and steady. “I figured you might be thirsty or hungry.”

“Oh thanks” he said, wrapping his hand around the glass, carefully avoiding touching your hand in the process, probably trying not to get sweat and dirt smeared on you. “I just got done actually”

“Oh wonderful” you exclaimed, maybe a little louder than expected. Maybe eager to get rid of that immoral feeling that was awakened by his presence. Seonghwa cocked an eyebrow and gave you a puzzled look at the unexpected outburst of joy.

“Why? Are you impatient to throw me out?” he smirked, pushing his long and soaked hair back as he took a step closer, doe eyes narrowing, becoming sharp. You did your best to lock your eyes with his, not to let them wander down his still half naked body. Seonghwa didn’t make any effort to cover himself. Your heart seemed to be trying to break through your rib cage to get a chance to beat closer to Seonghwa’s chest.

“No, it’s just that…” you took a step back “you have been working for so long you must be wanting to go back to the comfort of your home” you quickly get back on your feet before smiling politely at him, trying to conceal your uneasiness.

“Why?” he asked tit for tat, taking a step closer again, siren eyes bored deep into yours, trying to lull you in. “No one is waiting for me at home.”

Seonghwa heard the faintest little gasp escape your lips and he knew you were shaken. You, the unwavering nun, the faithful saint. You were at last considering him. Contemplating giving in to the primal and lowly instinct of desire.

Seonghwa sensed it. He saw it in the way you hurriedly licked your dry bottom lip, he saw it in the way your eyes darted between his lips and his eyes, he saw it in the way you stopped backing away from him.

You, y/n, you were giving in to pure sensual need. No love, no sentiment involved. Only desire to feel a complete stranger’s body against yours, only pure, untainted lust.

If only he could touch you. If only he could, it would be so much easier to help you gently fall into the welcoming and serene arms of corruption. But he couldn’t and that was making the whole experiment that much more exciting. He had to use deceit and trickery. Like a siren numbing your mind with a beautiful song.

But if you gave the slightest hint of submitting, if you let your guard down and let him into your heart then he would have won and that was all that mattered. If you tilted your head and you puckered up your lips to kiss him, if you took a step towards him to press your body against his, if your lifted your hand to feel his wet, glistening skin under your fingers, if you did anything to welcome the unholy desire, if you opened yourself to lust, then touching you would have been unnecessary because Seonghwa would have won and you and God would have lost.

And victory was oh so close. So close when he was as near to you as he could. So close when he slowly approached his face to yours. So close when your heart was pumping scorching hot blood through your veins, so close when your mouth started to water, so close when your lips started to quiver, so close when your eyelid started to flutter but…

Again, you stepped back.

“WHAT?!” San shouted.

“No way!!” Yeosang added, staring at your unsuspecting reflection in the green smoke.

Seonghwa’s shoulder dropped along with the satisfied little smirk.

“Thank you for fixing the boiler this quickly, Mr Park” you said, averting your eyes, finally breaking the spell he had casted on you and peeling your eyes off him.

Seonghwa had cried victory too soon. He had counted the chicken eggs before they hatched, he had put the cart before the horse. In other words… he had underestimated you.

He underestimated your will, your faith and your unwavering sense of righteousness. The other Sins had warned him though but he didn’t listen. They told him it was impossible to bend you. All of them had tried before and none succeeded so it was undeniable now that Seonghwa was just going to join them in failure.

“Don’t worry about it” he smiled at you, disappointment peeking behind his shiny brown orbs.

Seonghwa had accepted defeat when you led him back to the door of the convent. He walked away but turned around half way only to see your still body standing straight in the doorframe, perfectly incarnating your strong, unbending mind.

You only politely smiled when you pushed the big heavy door with difficulty, finally closing it in with a loud thud.

“Fuck… I guess Seonghwa failed too…” Yunho stated as he watched you close the door. But Wooyoung looked at you with a knowing grin.

“I’m not so sure…” he said as the smirk tugged further at his lips.

***

When you finally escaped Seonghwa’s taunting eyes, you leaned your back on the sturdy door, your spirit drained, your mind exhausted. You closed your eyes to catch a breath but the only thing you could see was the working man’s godlike figure carved onto your retinas, the translucent white t-shirt clinging to his golden skin, the sweat dripping down his temples and wetting the beautiful long strands of black hair, the bulging veins of his forearms and the dents engraved at both side of his lower stomach. And the more you thought about it, the quicker your breathing got.

You were all alone here… Your sisters and Mother superior were all gone. What wrong could it cause if you gave in just this once? Not that much, right?…. Just this once.

With big strides you walked to the kitchen and handpicked a nicely shaped carrot, almost regretting not listening to Chaeyoung and keeping that other one.

But this one was going to do the trick. It was not too thick and just long enough to help you carry out your shameful business but not too big to actually taint you and strip you of the precious veil of chastity that you managed to keep intact all of these years.

You climbed up the stairs with haste, avoiding the marble eyes of the holy figures represented in the halls only to take refuge in your bedroom.

You slipped out of your shoes and laid on your bed. You didn’t even bother taking the habit off, it wasn’t going to take long anyway, you simply pulled it up.

When you slid off the white panties you realized how soaked you were. You couldn’t believe it. Your whole life you’ve never felt this way, the feeling was overwhelming and needed to be dealt with immediately. Yes, that was what you were doing simply ridding yourself of an impure feeling!

You whipped out the orange root and clumsily rubbed the thinner tip on yourself. The cold sensation took you aback and pulled a small gasp from your lips.

You coated the root with your juices and then you aimed it at your entrance. You slid the carrot inside, it was too thin to hurt in any way but it was well long enough. When you reached the bottom of yourself you couldn’t help but to let out a satisfied grunt at the sensation of the vegetable rubbing against your sensitive spot.

You pulled it back out and slid it back in, this time a little faster. Heat gained over your body as your eyes fluttered close and you recalled the unfairly handsome and devilishly sexy working man.

The muscles of his back, his long slender neck, his collarbones, his beautiful sun kissed skin.

“Aaah” you sigh. “Seonghwa” his name rolled off your tongue so naturally, almost like it was meant to be said like this.

His long and dark wet hair, his plush lips getting close to yours, his warm breath fanning your face.

“Seonghwa” you moaned again, more high pitched this time as your wrist was getting more and more reckless, each time deliciously scrubbing your walls in divine and forbidden pleasure.

The way he looked at you, the way his dark eyes were filled with the same desire you had for him. The way they spoke volumes about the sinful things he wanted to do to you. And God… did you almost let him have his way with you.

You started to clench around the root, each time you pulled it out your walls were eagerly gripping on it, refusing to let it go, so you smashed it back in with force to grant their wish. Your walls quivered around the vegetable, a foreign and unknown euphoria was taking over you and you knew you were done for.

“I’m… ngh… c-cumming” you whispered to yourself as you felt the tightness in your core reach a brand new level. “Seonghwa” you cried out one more time, being only a few back-and-forths away from your sweet release but alas you couldn’t pull it through.

Because without knowing, without realizing, completely unsuspecting, you called his name. You called his name three times. You summoned him.

Purple smoke started to erupt from the corner of the small dimly lit room by the late evening sun. With terror you ripped the vegetable out before you could finish and covered your modesty with the habit you were still wearing.

From the smoke appeared slick black leather chelsea boots resting under a pair of anthracite gray dress pants coated with a shiny silverish finish. As the smoke got thinner you could distinguish a matching cropped blazer with an asymmetrical and deconstructed silver vest underneath that was held together by one single button right under his neck, you could see the soft and glistening golden skin underneath. And finally when the smoke was completely gone you saw his face. The sharp features and the slender slithering body reminiscent of the one of a serpent, eyes just as sharp and presence just as menacing. A face you hadn't known for long but couldn't forget. Seonghwa’s face.

But he looked different. His long bangs weren’t framing his face anymore, instead he had tied the long wavy strands in a high half bun. His aura was also different from when he was wearing the blue and spotted overalls. Now cladded in the revealing ensemble he looked expensive, confident and sensual.

Your jaw practically dropped to the floor when your mind finally wrapped around the information your eyes were transmitting.

“Well well…” Seonghwa stepped closer while you jolted yourself up the bed, your body cornered between the headboard and the wall.

“What are you?” you whispered with trembling lips, heart pounding, adrenaline rushing through your veins, ready to flee if need be.

Seonghwa looked at you, puzzled for a second. Then he laughed, head tilting back. The laugh made the hair in your nape stand. It was unnatural, cold and fundamentally evil.

“Me?” he asked. Right then you felt your body being magically lifted from the soft mattress. You shrieked again, utterly confused while Seonghwa’s magic slammed you against the bare walls of the humble bedroom, the tip of your toes barely scraping the worn out wooden floor.

“Oh my, please pardon my awful manners,” he said in an overly polite tone. “I’m Seonghwa, Cardinal Sin of Lust” he said, bowing respectfully, elegantly bringing his right hand on his chest in a princely manner. “But for you, love…” Seonghwa stepped towards you, taking his time to look at you. He leaned on your ear to whisper.

“I’m a dream come true” his voice was deep, sultry, self-assured. Everything you’d imagine it to be.

A faint gasp escaped your lips as you felt his warm breath on your neck.

You wanted to scream to all heavens, you had brought a demon into the convent. You had desecrated the sacred ground of this place of worship, your home. You led the wolf to the sheeps. But you couldn’t scream, you couldn’t even if your life depended on it.

“W-what do you want?” you managed to push the few words past your teeth. Your voice, perfect opposite of the one of the demon: muted and trembling.

“Just want to finish my business with you” his face stayed right where it was, nestled in the crook of your neck. Lips so close you could feel the heat radiating from them but somehow they were still too far, unable to touch you.

“What business?” you whimpered.

“Darling.” Seonghwa clicked his tongue and shook his head in disapproval. “There’s no point in fighting anymore. Stop playing dumb with me. I know you’re a smart girl.” He took a deep breath, inhaling the sweet scent of your shampoo. “I already won, darling… that very second you decided to give in to the thought of me. That second you closed the big heavy door and thought you escaped my eyes. That very second I had won.” A wicked smirk pulled on his lips. But his words didn’t make any sense to you.

This languish was torture, this state of expectation, of suspense. This proximity. You wished it would just stop. Be it touching you for good or get away finally. Just as if he read your mind he got even closer. Now it wasn’t only his lips taunting the thin skin of your neck, it was his whole body, hovering over yours; but still… Not touching you.

“Sure winning felt good. But you know what feels even better, darling?” You couldn’t bring yourself to formulate words and only whimpered in response.

“I asked you a question, sweetheart” he grinned, relishing on your anguish, placing both of his palms at both sides of your face, trapping your frail figure between his arms and the wall.

“It’s to finally touch you.”

So he finally let himself take a deep dive into you. The plush warm lips crash onto your neck, giving wet sloppy open mouth kisses while you couldn’t help but to tilt your head back giving him more access.

“What a good girl you are” he purred, not taking the time to part his lips from you.

His left hand went to your chin and turned it to make you face him, without much hesitation he planted a wet kiss on your lips, your cute whimpers and gasps were the perfect opportunity to deepen the kiss.

The kiss got heated as Seonghwa pried your hesitant mouth open with his long thumb and pushed his tongue inside to breach your lips. His delicious taste spread through your mouth, making your head dizzy. He tasted like candy, like you just took a bite of the juiciest strawberry. Ripe, just in season, absolutely delicious.

You moaned into his mouth and he smirked as his grip around your chin got tighter, he lifted his knee to part your legs and his thigh rubbed against your center through the habit. You couldn’t help but to moan louder, the unsolicited pleasurable friction made you incapable of reciprocating the kiss, your dangling feet nervously giving small kicks in the air.

Seonghwa finally parted from you, allowing you to catch your breath. But he was far from done with you.

“I know you long for more than this, angel” he whistled while his hand went up your thigh, still clothed with the thick black fabric of the habit. “I know you languish for pleasure” his blunt nails went up your arm and you realized you were still holding onto the carrot. He ripped the root from your hand.

“You won’t need this anymore” he said before smashing the poor vegetable on the ground sending millions of orange pieces flying across the room, you flinched once more at the demonstration of strength.

“Mine is much bigger than this. But don’t worry, love, I’ll make you nice and ready for me” he purred before placing both of his strong hands on the habit and just like that with astonishing ease he rips through the black gown. But not only, everything covering you is ripped in two and that also goes for your bra that fell to the ground. With the deafening sound of the fabric ripping you found yourself completely naked in front of the demon apart from the veil on your hair and the rosary beads laying on your chest.

You flinched and your hands flew to cover your nude frame but Seonghwa once again laughed and you felt an irresistible magical force pin your wrists at each side of your face. You sniveled and squirmed trying your hardest to go against the invisible force to hide away from the avid eyes of the demon.

“How cute.” The demon snickered when you failed to fight back. “Sweetheart, you don’t get to hide anything when you look this good” he said in a breath, eyes darting over your naked figure. From your dangling feet, to your thighs tightly pressed together, to your flushed face and to the Rosary beads sitting between your gorgeous breasts, swaying every time you kept trying to break away from the spell pinning you against the wall.

He brought a cold hand to the side of your breast, you couldn’t help but to moan as you felt his soft hand against you, his finger suddenly pinching your sensitive and hardened nipples. You let out a high pitched whimper.

“So sensitive” Seonghwa mocked you before he flicked the sensitive bud. Then he lifted his hand to harshly slap against the innocent lump of flesh, you jumped in surprise at the sensation. The surprise didn’t lie in the sudden surge of pain but rather from the enjoyment you got out of it, the sting sending electricity down your spine to light up your core.

With another faint movement of the head Seonghwa made you open your legs widely. You whimpered and felt tears build up in the corners of your eyes when he finally laid eyes on your most private part. And you realized with dread how wet you were. Soaked. Juices streaming down to your inner thighs making them glisten under his persistent gaze.

“Fuck, sweetheart” he exhaled out one heavy breath. “You got this fucking wet for me?” he said as he crouched down, inching his face dangerously close to your exposed center.

Embarrassment and shame reached an unbearable level, tears finally spilled out of your eyes, wetting your cheeks as you squirmed, trying your best to escape Seonghwa’s spell.

“So here’s the little hole I’m going to split in two” he said as his breath brushed over your wet folds.

You squirmed even harder, somehow feeling Seonghwa’s spell loosen around your wrists and ankles. But when he aimed his pointer finger right on your swollen bundle of nerves, earning a loud scream from you, the sudden pleasure from the perfect amount of pressure he applied on you made you completely immobile. Torn between the need for more of the foreign forbidden joy but also the fear and shame of letting the demon have his way with you, tainting you, taking away your most precious possession: your purity.

“What? Are you not fighting me off anymore?” He started to draw small circles on your bud. Your wetness made it easy for his finger to glide across the small and stiff nub. You moaned a little louder and he started going faster.

“Does it feel good, angel?” his voice went down an octave as pleasure got to your head, making the room spin, luckily you don’t have to stand on your legs.

Seonghwa went even faster when you didn’t reply.

“I said, does it feel good?” his tone was as harsh as his restless teasing of your clit. Hellish circles sending blazing heat to your whole body as you felt the pleasure rising in the deepest part of your core, your walls quivering on themselves.

But Seonghwa slowed down at the worst moment, a wicked smirk pulling on his plump lips, narrowing his piercing siren eyes.

“Good little sluts should answer when asked a question.” His pace was now just fast enough to keep you at your limit, each spasm of your core, testifying of the agonizing muted pleasure he was inflicting on you.

“Answer!” he ordered while he delightfully pressed on your painfully sensitive bundle of nerves.

“YES!! Yes it feels good” you blurted out, panting, sweat pearling between your breasts, giving in to the pressure.

“Good girl” he praised as he finally lifted his hand from your sensitive parts. You sighed in both relief of finally being let off the hook but also in frustration at the displeasing feeling of his denial.

But before you could celebrate or pester he pushed that very same finger inside you. You didn’t know by what ungodly miracle he managed to aim straight at your sensitive spot, but he did, applying divine pressure deep inside you. Your eyes instantly rolled to the back of your head as you felt the will of fighting off slipping through your fingers.

Seonghwa chuckled at your reaction, he was enjoying himself very much. After centuries of boredom he intended to savor every second of your agony.

“Darling, you really are hungry for my fingers, aren’t you? Your slutty little cunt is gripping so tightly” he chuckled again while he pulled his finger back. You hated how right he was. You hated how you felt your walls clench around him, how you felt your own body crave for more of him as soon as his finger slipped out.

But the yearning didn’t last long because he pushed past your entrance again, this time fitting two fingers inside you, taking the time to gently stretch you until his blunt nails reached as deeply as they could.

You let out a moan through gritted teeth, the pleasure making beads of sweat pearl at the sides of your face.

“Fuck! Your virgin little pussy just loves to be stretched out like this, doesn’t it?” He leaned even closer to your sopping center.

Tears continued to run down your cheeks as pleasure rose again. Seonghwa picked up the pace, stretching your walls so deliciously, pumping his two fingers in and out of you, each time he pulled out he ripped a moan out of you. Again, you started to twitch around his fingers and he smirked down on you. Pleasure continuously grew as you made this silent prayer that he would finally take you over the edge, over the barrier of this beautiful and forbidden land that you stayed away from all these years.

But again he slowed down and came to a stop. This time tears of pure frustration ran down your cheeks as you pathetically bucked your hips up trying to fight against Seonghwa’s spell pinning you down the wall.

“Aww.” He cooed in a mocking tone. “Darling, I’m sorry… were you about to cum?” He said while you shot him a death glare. He chuckled at your reddened cheeks and your frowned brows.

His finger swiped across your fold, pressing on the lonely bud once and you instantly dropped the angered look, your eyes drooped at the sensation and you couldn’t help but to grind against him, your womanliness made so eager by his touches.

“Fuck, look at you” he slipped one finger back inside, pumping it very slowly in and out. You bit down on your lip. “Acting so fucking distant only a few minutes ago…” he added a second one as you moaned out in bliss. “When in fact you were craving this… craving me…” he fitted a third one inside your already crowded heat as your moans now mixed with confused sobs. The intense feeling of pain and pleasure blending into a dangerous cocktail.

“Fuckkk” you cursed out, allowing yourself another sin you managed to avoid up until now, which has the demon showing more teeth.

“What a good little slut taking all of my fingers so good” he said as he took his time thoroughly stretching you out, his blunt nails pushing against your sensitive spot, while his face was closing in the distance with your intimate parts. Your eyes fluttered close as the muscles in your neck gave out and you let your head hang back on the wall.

“Look at me” Seonghwa grunted and your eyes snapped back open instantly meeting his dark ones, his irises seemed to go black with perversion.

“Now I’m gonna make you cum” He announced as he picked up the pace once more, you can tell he didn’t intend to stop before it was over. “I want you to never forget this. This feeling you’re about to experience.” His wrist took on a punishing pace as your eyes were locked with his. Pleasure sending radiating heat through your body, chest heaving up and down as you moan out loudly with your jaw hanging open. “Every time you’ll think of me I curse you to feel exactly… like… this”

Seonghwa finally wrapped his mouth around your lonely and eager little clit, flicking his tongue on it as his fingers relentlessly punched your g spot, both sources of pleasure go to your head and your first orgasm finally drops over you like a wave, taking you away with its raging current.

Your cum squirts out of your body, water like fluid rushing out of you and filling Seonghwa’s mouth, drenching his neck and exposed chest in the asymmetrical silver vest. He moaned, lips against yours and sending delicious vibrations into you.

You screamed out as the level of pleasure ripped through you, your walls clenching around Seonghwa and twitching uncontrollably as your whole body shook, still magically pinned down to the wall.

When you finally settled down he slowed down and took his fingers out of you, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and licking his fingers clean.

“Hmmm” he hummed contentedly and smacked his lips, seemingly enjoying your taste. “It’s true… Good little sluts, like you, taste much better”.

Seonghwa cut the spell and stood back up, your exhausted body dropping to the floor, your weakened legs unable to support your weight.

Seonghwa had enough of this teasing and had grown impatient. He brushed back the cum-soaked locks of charcoal black hair sticking to his forehead and cheeks, the wet skin of his chest glistening under the silver asymmetrical vest. Your eyes trailed down below the belt you gasped as you saw the outline of what was hidden from your eyes all this time… Even still restricted by the fabric of the shiny gray dress pants, the thickness and the length had your heart racing again.

“I want to feel you around me. Now.” he ordered, in a sultry tone that lifted goosebumps all over your naked skin.

Suddenly your body was magically lifted up again but this time Seonghwa threw you on the bed. The veil was barely hanging onto your hair anymore.

Seonghwa walked to you as he took off the cropped blazer along with the rest of his clothes. You gulped down at the sight of his nude and perfectly sculpted body standing beside you. The glistening chest made wet with sweat and cum, dripping down his abs even down to his groin where you barely even dared to look.

There it was. The Absolute Sin.

Seonghwa’s long, thick, twitching, veiny, hard cock.

You could have screamed at the monstrous thing if you weren’t still in a daze from your first crushing orgasm . It was so thick, so long you couldn’t even begin to imagine how this was about to fit inside you.

Seonghwa chuckled when he caught the panic swimming in your wide eyes. He thrived on this fear. And he knew exactly how it was going to go. And he couldn’t wait. He couldn’t wait to see the very same doe eyes grow heavy with pleasure and look back at him with need when you will inevitably beg him to keep going, to never stop fucking you. Because he broke you once and he intended to do it over and over and over again until you will no longer remember anything but him.

Seonghwa dipped both his knees at your sides, his body weight making yours sink in the soft mattress while he shimmied his way up between your wide open legs.

He rubbed the thick blazing hot tip on your still very sensitive bud while he stared down at the place your two bodies met. You tried not to moan by biting down on your bottom lip.

“Please” you meekly whimpered, his dark eyes shot back to yours.

“Please what?” he slithered between his teeth, smirking.

“Please don’t… do that…” you puffed, as fear crushed your chest. Seonghwa snickered again and brought his hand to very gently and softly brush his thumb over your wet cheeks and lips.

“Darling” his deep voice purred so softly. “You are not under any spell here. You can control this tiny little body of yours. So go ahead” he taunted you as his hand went down from your face to your sensitive nipples. “Go ahead and close your legs.”

What? No… It isn’t possible.

There was no way he was not the one forcing your thighs apart like this. But when you gave it a try, when you attempted to lift your ankle it actually worked. You indeed could move. But… somehow you…. still didn’t.

“Come on show me. Go ahead, pretty” his hand went down again to your stomach. “Close your legs on this poor, aching, desperate….” he flicked his pointer finger on your clit “virgin little pussy”. The sweet sting made you moan out and arch your back instinctively.

Seonghwa waited a few seconds staring down at you with amusement as you didn't move an inch. Your body kept your legs nice and wide for him against your own will.

“You know what?” he took his hand back and you swallowed back a whine and the loss of contact. “Okay, I won’t… if you are still this strong headed after all of this maybe you’re right. You are a pure spirit and I can admit defeat when I have lost.”

The smug look he wore completely gave him away. You knew it was a ruse, a ploy to get to you, to toy with you but you weren’t listening to reason anymore, only your delirious body tortured with vicious need and you just couldn’t risk it. You couldn’t risk him leaving you, not like this.

“NO!” you wailed, extending your hand to him as he was already getting off the bed and on to his feet. “I-…I-… Ok… do it”

Seonghwa’s expression here took a turn. The smug smile was completely wiped off his face, only dark brown and grave eyes looking down on your naked frame.

“Yeah?” he came back to bed and laid over you. He brought his lips close to your ear and he seductively whispered against your neck as your eyes fluttered close. “If you want it, sweetheart. You’ll have to properly beg for it”.

Your eyes snapped open. But Seonghwa only looked dead serious.

“I- I-” you started but Seonghwa lifted his hand to let it slap against your wet cunt. The whacking sound bounced off the bare walls and the stinging pain had you grunting in unsolicited pleasure.

“I said properly. I want to believe you” his voice had nothing of the playful undertone it had a few moments ago. You didn’t think twice, maybe not even at all.

“Please, Seonghwa. I implore you to fuck me. Please fuck and use my slutty virgin cunt as much as you’d like. Please hurt me and rip my virginity away. I want to scream and cry out your name. I want to be yours. I want to forget everything about the good girl I used to be, I want to be your whore. Forget about my soul, just take it with you back to hell.”

Silence fell as a grin played on his lips. It’s not smug or playful, it’s wicked, downright evil.

You were not just begging him. The desperate prose was not just a plea. It was a prayer. You were praying for him to taint you. Begging him to take away your purity like it was nothing but a nuisance to you, discarding it. Seeing you abandon your values and principles was the greatest achievement, a victory so sweet it made Seonghwa lose control. The feeling was intoxicating, blissfully filling his veins and making his evil heart thump. In his infinite existence he had never felt that. And it was all thanks to you.

Suddenly his body was elevated in the air and purple smoke enveloped him again. For a second you were scared that he was actually leaving you but the thought vanished as quick as it appeared when you heard the distinctive shrill sound of the metal scraping against the wall. You looked above your head and you witnessed with dread the crucifix above your bed being slowly turned upside down, engraving the white plaster of the bare walls. The foreboding omen lifted goosebumps off your skin and sent a cold shiver down your spine.

Soon you saw his body peek out as the smoke evaporated. It was still him but he had changed.

Huge wings were open behind his back, covered in raven black lustrous feathers, shining under the moonlight peeking from the window as the dark night was now settled. Two black horns have pierced his skin at each side of his head, pointing upwards, resembling the ones of a spanish bull. His body, somehow, looked even more defined, the muscles of his abs and shoulders seemed to bulge out. He looked strong, ominous, dangerous.

“You have such a way with words” he said as he floated back between your legs and settled his huge cock on your stomach. “Now I’m gonna make all of your wishes come true”. He brushed the tip of his cock, wet with precum, once again on your slick folds. “I've never fucked a mortal in my true form before.” he started, still rubbing against you, the muted pleasure making your brain fuzzy. “I can’t guarantee you’ll come out of this alive”.

But you were already set on it and if you had to die, so be it…

“I don’t care” you whispered as your eyebrows met and you looked back at him with need.

You braced yourself when you felt him finally push himself inside you. You could practically hear your hymen rip in two to make way for his huge cock. The puny little carrot could have never compared to the size of him.

“What a good little slut you are,” he cooed, before grunting as you were gripping around him. “Willing to die for a round of fun on my big cock”.

Sharp throbbing pain ripped through your lower stomach as you frowned and grunted.

“I know…” Seonghwa purred as he leaned over in your ear “I’m big” he said as he finally reached the bottom of you, linking his hips with yours. And he pulled out a lot faster than when he came in. Your eyes rolled back and you crushed the pillow over your mouth to yell in it.

But when he went back in again somehow the ache had lessened and pleasure was slowly taking its place. Soon the pain, as sharp as it was, vanished to become only a vague memory you couldn’t even recall as your mind was too preoccupied by the incommensurable pleasure Seonghwa made you feel.

“Fucking whore” Seonghwa grunted as he mercilessly ramed up your pussy, making it the shape of his cock. “Cheating on God feels good, doesn’t it? Your whorish little cunt can’t resist this fat demon cock, can it?” he growled.

You started twitching once again around him and Seonghwa instantly recognized the familiar clench he felt earlier around his fingers.

“Are you going to cum?” he asked, panting above you.

You couldn’t even process the words you were hearing as your eyes rolled back and your jaw fell open. But you were brought back to your senses when Seonghwa’s big clawed hand slapped your cheek forcefully. The burning pain took you aback and stopped your never ending ascension to pleasure. You whined a complaint and Seonghwa grabbed your face into a strong grip making your lips pout.

“Good little whores have to ask first” he said, still deeply pounding your precious little pussy.

“Pleasepleaseplease… C-can I cum?... F-fuckk… Please” you mumbled as his pace made it hard to hold yourself back.

“No!” he responded sternly. “Not now” he said, smirking evilly. Enjoying this anguish in your eyes as you tried your best to control your body. He brought his hand and pinched hard on your swollen little clit.

“Aaaah” you screamed, arching your back and pressing your head back into the soft mattress.

“You’ll cum when I’ll tell you too” he snickered, looking down at you. And the pleasure kept on building, frustrated tears starting to wet your cheeks again.

“My God please…” you whined, as tears streamed down your face and your pussy clenched around his thick cock. Seonghwa scoffed.

“Sorry but he has left you, darling.” He started to draw circles on your sensitive and aching clit, still maintaining the punishing pace of his cock rearranging your guts, making the rosary beads jump along with your breasts with each powerful thrust. You cry out as it’s becoming nearly impossible to keep yourself from cumming. “He abandoned you to me” he growled, his low voice sending electricity down your core.

“Pleaseeeee” you pleaded once more, desperation oozing out of your broken up voice and finally Seonghwa pronounced the magic words.

“Cum. Cum for me like the godless little whore that you are”

Finally you let go. You let Seonghwa’s skillful hand and monstrous, merciless cock take you down to the hellish pit of lustful sin. Pleasure took over you and clouded your vision, everything came to a blur as you could only concentrate on the throbbing of your cunt around Seonghwa’s thick dick. You moaned out his name in pure agonizing bliss. The orgasm was even longer lasting, even stronger than the one he gave you moments ago. And you knew for a fact now that there was no going back.

The good girl that you were had died, Seonghwa killed her. And you had let him do it without batting an eyelash. But fuck did it feel good. You felt no shame, no regrets, only unholy desire for the demon’s heavenly cock.

Soon the high wore off but Seonghwa didn’t seem to care and kept on pounding you, taking a bruising grip on your parted thighs with both his hands.

“Please” you whimpered again as your poor little pussy might split in two from clenching and throbbing this much right after an earth shattering orgasm. Seonghwa chuckled in between heavy breaths.

“I just came” you cried out, turning into an over-stimulated mess.

“I don’t care” he spat, using you like a fucktoy just like he pleased, after all you had asked him to do so… ‘to fuck and use your slutty virgin cunt as much as he’d like’. The exhausted quivering of your restless pussy started to build up again and before you could even realize it, Seonghwa’s thick cock had you flirting with the edge of the bottomless pleasure pit again.

“Please” you whined “Please stop” you begged him, breast lewdly jumping up and down with each of his brutal thrusts. But he kept on going, growling as his eyebrows met, handsome face contorted in pleasure, biting his lip. Body pressed over yours and full black feathered wings completely concealing you, one of his horns even scraping the wall with one too violent move.

“Pleaseeeee” you whimpered yet again. And suddenly your body was being lifted and flipped over by Seonghwa’s spell. You land on all fours, completely confused but worst of all, completely empty.

“Don’t you get it?” Seonghwa said as he slowly pushed himself back into your soft, warm little throbbing cunt. You moaned as you gladly took him back. “You sold your soul to me. You don’t get to ask for anything anymore. So I’ll fuck you for as long as I see it fit” He said before pushing down on your face, shoving your head into a shamefully submissive position, your ass up in the air, ready to be destroyed by him once more.

His fat cock parted you so deliciously as lewd wet sounds rang to your ears. It was like your once virgin pussy had completely taken the shape of his monstrous dick. Every movement he made ripped a delighted moan out of your lips, you didn’t have the will to fight anymore. You only wanted him and this delectable high he made you feel.

“Fuckkk” you cried out as he started to go faster again, the quiver in your lower stomach making a quick return.

“You’re my thing now.” He ripped the veil of your hair, the last relic of your past self and sent it flying across the room. He grabbed a fistfull of your hair, harshly pulling on it maintaining your face forward but your chin still firmly planted in the mattress, asserting his dominance on your frail figure. “My toy, you hear?” the sting on your scalp added to the full feeling of his cock had you completely fucked out. Your eyes rolled as heat spreaded through you again, your jaw fell open and your tongue slipped out. You were fucked out dumb, completely. Brain nice and thoughtless just from him.

“Yeshhh” you mumbled.

“I’m gonna make you cum again and this time I will fill your dirty little cunt with my cum” The obscene sounds of his balls slapping against your slick folds and clit bounced off the walls.

“Yesshh pwweathe” you replied as your tongue slapped against your chin with each inhuman thrust of his hips deep into you, sending strings of drool on your chin and staining the sheets.

“Today you’re ovulating, you know what it means?”

Your eyes snapped back open.

“I’m gonna force a child into you. You’ll take my seed into your fertile womb and life will sprout inside you” His grip on your hair tightened and you felt him start to twitch inside you.

“You’d like that?” he teases, knowing the answer.

“Yesssshhhhh!!!” you yelled, you were ready for anything if it meant he’d let you cum again.

“Then take it. Take my cum you depraved slut” His second hand left your hips to grab the rosary still around your neck, twisting his wrist to wrap the beads around his fingers and pulling on it while still maintaining his grasp on your hair.

Bloodstream to your brain became restrained and you started to feel dizzy. A deliciously light headed sensation filled your head up as your pussy quivered with a third orgasm. Your hungry cunt squeezed Seonghwa’s thick length as if its life depended on it, demanding every last drop of cum the demon had to offer. You clenched and throbbed around him in pure joyful sin as he took you to the deepest part of this abysmal and cursed pleasure, taking your sanity and everything that was left of the old you to the pits of hell with him.

Seonghwa’s rhythm faltered and he shuddered and grunted in bliss as his throbbing cock gushed out streams after streams of piping hot cum that stained your walls with white, shooting straight up to your womb, assuredly knocking you up in the process.

You yelled and moaned one last time. You were so full of him, belly round and swollen with the ungodly amount of cum Seonghwa gracefully gifted you. You were so unbelievably full that you couldn't help but to let it flow out of you and run down your thighs, no matter how much you clenched to keep it all inside.

You were in heaven. This was pure euphoria. A kind of contentment not any amount of spirituality and virtue could ever give you. The kind of happiness you could only experience when you let go of everything you’ve ever known to throw yourself into the arms of the most pleasurable sin of all.

Lust.

***

The next morning when you woke up at dawn with the chirping birds you felt nauseous and disoriented. You looked around the room and found it immaculate. Your habit was not ripped in two, it was neatly folded on the wooden bedside table along with your veil and underwear. The room was clean and neat: no traces of small pieces of orange carrot anywhere or puddles of cum on the wooden floor. And you were wearing a comfortable full length pyjama gown.

In a flash, disjointed memories came back to you. You remembered the anthracite gray suit, the black bull horns, the raven wings, the defined abs, the devilishly handsome good looks, the tempting smirk and the huge thick angry cock and the immense forbidden pleasure that came along with it.

You sat up and looked behind you hastily, the wall was perfectly smooth, no scrapes of the black horns and most of all the crucifix was perfectly normal, hanging right side up.

You spotted the small, thin, intact carrot next to your pillow and sighed in relief. Yes, you had sinned but you knew if you confessed and prayed hard enough God would forgive you. Afterall, you had never done such a thing and it was shameful and wrong, yes, but they were far greater sins than this one, like selling your soul to the Sin of Lust and bearing his child… You shook your head, chasing away the blurry memory of the nightmare, feeling a weird tingly build up in your lower stomach as you saw flashes of the evil smirks and the huge monstrous-

“It was a dream” you said out loud, sighing, hoping the sound of your own voice would prevent your mind from imagining more of the sinful imagery. “Just a meaningless dream” you told yourself again.

Convinced the soreness between your legs was only due to masturbating for the first time, that the nausea was nothing to worry about and that the spasm inside your belly were benign little cramps.

Seonghwa smirked in victory as he looked at you through the pierced purple smoke. He made it. He broke you beyond repair. He went, won and marked you. And soon he would back to take what you had promised him: an offspring and your soul, body and mind, you.

“See you soon, y/n” he chuckled.

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