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unstable-samurai · 3 months

Text

Love is Intention (pt.1)

Male Reader x Sana

word count: 7.5K

tags: possessive girl, angst, obsession, passionate fan, psychopathy, love sex, blowjob, penetration, tease, stalker, sexual fantasy, mature male reader, dom girl...

Everything started on a rainy Friday. It was the damn book launch, your return after 8 cursed years without publishing anything. Your hands were as cold as a corpse. It was a trauma. Ever since the first time you had to put your face out there to promote your work, no one showed up. It was humiliating. People walked into the bookstore at the mall and saw you sitting alone at a table with two stacks of untouched copies of your book. You stayed there for four hours, and when someone finally seemed to come over, it was just a regular customer asking where the hell the Stephen King bookshelf was. And you can bet he had a shelf dedicated just to him, he was a genre unto himself.

But, well, does that really matter now?

This terrible experience didn't stop you from becoming a best-seller, anyway. Starting from the third book signing session, people were lining up just to get your autograph and shake your hand (the selfie craze wasn't popular yet). You didn't get an exclusive shelf with your name like King, but your books were next to those of great writers like Ernest Hemingway and J.D. Salinger and even contemporary geniuses like Chuck Palahniuk. Good enough for you.

There were 5 consecutive knockouts! Each book released broke the record of the previous one. In a span of 10 years, you reached your literary stardom, and, look at that, even Stephen King read and praised one of your books (the second one, where the schizophrenic protagonist believes she killed her own husband in a fight and now must decide whether to turn herself in to the authorities or get rid of the body. Plot twist: it was the husband who killed the wife. Good surrealist shit.)

Then you never published anything again.

Problems arose and your creativity seemed to vanish, along with your desire to write. The divorce, the alcoholism, the insomnia... depression, perhaps? All of this exploded in your face at once, leading you into a self-destructive spiral that seemed endless. You almost didn’t recover from it. Well, you were still recovering, truth be told. One day at a time and all that. And, well, a new book was yet another step towards a normal and stable life again. God and the devil knew how difficult it was for you to find the strength to write again. Your new book was just a collection of short stories, but we all need to start over from somewhere, right?

And what if no one shows up?

That damn thought wouldn’t leave your mind. 8 years… it’s enough time to forget an author. How many new ones must have appeared and become best-sellers by now?

“Don’t be so nervous. It’s still early. People will show up,” said Jessie, the assistant hired by your literary agent. He was unable to attend the occasion as his wife was in labor.

“Yeah… You’re right.”

“I know thinking is kind of your job, but don’t overdo it. Come on, have some coffee.” She handed you a cup; it was very hot, helping to warm your cold, lifeless hands. Jessie continued:

“Twitter got pretty excited when the publisher announced your book’s release. It must be the rain messing things up around here.”

She was a good girl. She knew how to read people, and she also knew you needed a bit of encouragement.

"The latest news about me was about my divorce and my problems with alcohol. I'm happy to still have a bit of credibility."

"An author only loses credibility if they publish a bad book and then another one right after. You could have committed a homicide and people would still be excited for a book of yours. That whole thing about separating the author from the work, you know what I mean? Literature is a world apart."

What she said was quite accurate in your view, fortunately or unfortunately. You noticed that she was very smart for a woman of just 20 years old.

"Did you know that I published my first book when I was your age?"

"Yeah, I know! You took over the literary scene in that decade. 'Young Writer Applauded at Festival and Becomes the Newest Best-Seller of the Year.' I read that old article when I found out I was going to work with you. You were really a phenomenon. And not to take away from your art, but that handsome face of yours helped to win over some fans."

You just lowered your head and laughed timidly.

"I guess now I can't count on my young face anymore."

"'Dilfs' are the trend now, sir!"

"And what the hell is that?" you asked curiously.

Suddenly, four people entered the bookstore together. They smiled upon seeing you, and you instantly knew they had come for the autograph session. Then two more people entered. They waved at you, and you felt the nervousness take over your body again, but this time for a good reason: people kept coming in. And there were still 20 minutes left before the book launch was to begin.

You had forgotten how special a book launch could be. Unfortunately, the mark left by the first event made you forget the good part of it. But from now on, you would strive to remember only how it was a warm and memorable occasion; being a relatively private event, you were practically surrounded only by people who truly appreciated your art and you as a person.

You had just finished the author's reading part. The first 20 pages of the first story seemed to please the audience, and the applause at the end of the reading was a relief for you. When was the last time you were given a standing ovation? A long time ago, obviously. It was time for questions, Jessie had warned you in advance that there were 3 journalists among the 61 readers present. The journalists were not wearing identification badges, so they were mixed in with the public, which included booktubers, superfans, and key influencers in the literary market. Perhaps with the idea of getting a 'pure' response from you to then publish in the media. So you should be prepared to get a good headline.

"Alright, hmm, I think now is the time for questions..." you announced to the audience, somewhat nervous.

Many people raised their hands. You chose the bearded bald man with glasses.

He stood up and asked:

“We know that there was a long gap between your last book and this new one. Has your writing changed during this time? Can we expect a more mature version of you in terms of your approach to delicate events that are the highlight of your writing?”

“Great question, thank you! Well, I have always approached these themes as an ordinary man. I am not a psychologist to make a clinical and scientific approach to certain things that my characters decide to do in the story. I have always valued accessible communication with the general public. Pain and feelings are universal, and the way we deal with them tends to be different, varying from person to person. Unconsciously, my writing has matured, a result of time, I believe, but I still follow the same approach that brought me here.”

“Thank you, sir,” said the bald man. He then pressed a button on his iPhone, which he had held up the entire time you were speaking.

You glanced slightly to the side, and Jessie winked at you. Your intuition was right about him being one of the journalists.

"Next question."

You chose a young Black girl wearing a beige overcoat.

"Hello! I just want to say that I'm happy to be here! My name is Carol, and I'm a big fan of yours! Hmm, ah, my question! Let me see... According to the synopsis and now the first pages of the story you read, it seems that each story, although different from one another, is connected by a central theme, which is the lack of connection with today's society. I wanted to know, how did you come up with these characters? Are they portrayals of current people, or are they mere fictional figures trapped in the past?"

"That's an excellent question too. Thank you, Carol. So, in the last few years when I wasn't writing, I wandered around a lot of places. I was a bit lost, to be honest, but one good thing about that difficult phase was having the opportunity to talk to all kinds of different people. Poor and rich. Everyone had something to say about the world, as well as their own problems with it. All I can say is that I didn't draw inspiration from any real person to create the characters, but rather from the experiences I accumulated during the good conversations I had with various people of different races, ages, and genders. Despite this, it's easy to recall someone familiar who has a story similar to Milly, the protagonist of the first story in the book, for example. My characters are almost always ordinary people."

"Thank you for answering!"

“You're welcome. Next question.” You paused briefly to drink some water, then continued, choosing a young woman sitting at the far right end of the last row of chairs, where the light from the lamp didn’t reach as well.

“Hello! Good evening, everyone! My name is Sana, I’m a big fan of your art and I’m happy about your return,” she said, quite excited.

You were startled when she stood up and you could see her better. Your heart suddenly raced. It was a strange sight. The girl, Sana, was wearing a long white dress with some flower prints.

Your ex-wife had a very similar dress. Quite a coincidence. So, you hid your look of astonishment and said:

“Thank you, Sana. You can ask your question.”

“I would like to know if your return is definitive. Are there more drafts stored or ideas for future projects? I read on the internet about a leak that revealed you were writing a script for a mini-series on a streaming service. Does this mean you are now dedicated to writing without long breaks?”

“I can't comment on this supposed leak. And I can't guarantee that my return won’t have more long breaks, but I am making an effort to maintain a healthy pace for myself and that also allows me to produce good works without delays.”

“Your long pause was due to external problems like the divorce and your alcohol dependency. Now that you’re rehabilitated, what are the chances of you returning to your old publication window of every two years?”

“Excuse me!” Jessie intervened. “I’d like to remind everyone that this event is dedicated to the book, not the author’s personal life. So, let’s keep the questions focused on the fiction, please.”

“Oh, sorry! I didn’t mean to be intrusive,” Sana explained, smiling. “I’m just another fan who is immensely happy about the return of the favorite author, and who hopes to continue reading many of his books.”

"It's okay. As I said before, I can't guarantee anything. I hate unfounded promises like anyone else. I appreciate your kindness, Sana. I will strive to continue publishing frequently."

She smiled at you, satisfied with your response.

For the next question, you chose a gray-haired woman who seemed quite intellectual.

"There are rumors that your first book will be adapted into a movie. Can you tell us a little about that? And regardless of whether it's true or not, how would you feel about seeing your work being transferred to another medium, like with a new vision and maybe without your creative control?"

"We are in negotiations at the moment. I can't say more than that. Well, I wouldn't mind seeing someone else putting their vision into my stories; it would be something different, you know? Another work, not necessarily mine. I find it interesting and I am always open to film adaptations."

You continued for about 30 minutes. This stuff was quite tiring and after a while, it seemed to lose its purpose, but you kept smiling until the end.

Now all that was left was to sign the books. Each reader got your autograph and a copy of your new book. Everyone praised you and practically 90% of the audience took a selfie with you.

There were only 5 people left to finish the autographs when it was that girl's turn.

"Hello!" she said, extending her hand to greet you. You shook her hand. It was small and soft, like a porcelain doll's hand. "I was quite anxious for this."

"I hope I didn't make you wait too long. Lines can be quite unbearable."

"It's all right, I've learned to be patient.”

You noticed that she was staring at you. For a fan, she was not shy at all. She was beautiful too. Very beautiful. You would probably be falling in love with Sana if you were the same age as her and were the type of writer who gets dazzled by any special attention from a pretty girl.

“Sana, right? Well, I’ll sign your book now.”

You picked up a copy and signed it.

“‘To Sana, a special fan. May these pages entertain you and perhaps mean something to you in the end.’” You finished with your signature. “Here. Thank you for coming.”

“Oh my God! You don’t know how happy I am! Can I ask you to sign another book of yours? It's my favorite!”

She took the book out of her bag and handed it to you, then you signed it with quick precision.

“You’re so sweet! Oh, could you tell me how long you will be in the city? And sorry if I'm being too nosy..."

“I’m leaving tomorrow afternoon.”

“Oh, what a shame. You don’t know how special this evening has been for me.” Sana sighed. “I just wish I had more time to talk to you.”

“Hey, girl!” exclaimed the woman in line behind Sana. “You’ve been talking to him for about 5 minutes! There are more people wanting to get an autograph, you know?!”

Sana didn’t reply but shot a cold, empty look at the woman that made her nervous.

“It was really a dream to meet you in person.” She placed her hand on yours. Slowly, she said, “Maybe we’ll meet again sometime, won’t we?”

You gave a soft laugh and replied:

“Yeah, I’d love that.” You smiled formally at her. “Have a good night, Sana.”

“You too.” She said in a voice a little too sweet for your taste.

"The night was amazing!" said Jessie cheerfully. The two of you were eating at a diner after the book launch had ended. "You answered all the questions really well. Especially the ones from the journalists."

"Thank you. I did my best."

"When it becomes a bestseller, and it will, obviously, we'll organize a new book signing session, this time a lecture. Your arm will get tired from signing so many books!"

"I'm very grateful for all your help, Jessie."

"It's just my job. Besides, actually, I should be grateful to you for employing me. I had some bills to pay that were keeping me up at night."

"But it was my literary agent who hired you."

"Yes, he needed an assistant for one of his writers, and here I am. There were no openings available for me, and I was starting to worry if I would find a job or not. Then a miracle happened! Suddenly the preparations for your new book launch began, and 'boom!', Jessie is working again, baby!"

"In that case, I guess we helped each other."

"You bet!"

"It's good to be back. I had forgotten how much I loved writing."

"It's good to have you back! Now that all the launch chaos is over, what are you going to do?"

"Write."

"Already?"

"I'm just going to start drafting a novel I have in mind. I'm thinking of spending a few weeks in a secluded cabin I bought to write in peace without interruptions."

"That sounds great! It's a good way to relax, actually. But I personally wouldn't go where Amazon delivery doesn't reach; that's my limit of isolation. Another cup of coffee?”

"“No. I need to sleep.”

“You can order a decaf coffee.”

“Even so. I've already exceeded my daily caffeine limit.”

Jessie asked the waitress for another cup of coffee for herself.

“I'm sorry we're not celebrating in a bar as tradition dictates.”

“Don't say that! It's no problem. I appreciate your more reserved style of celebrating; the last writer I assisted liked to let loose with his pseudo-intellectual friends. I was completely uncomfortable at those parties, damn it.”

"Okay, so get ready 'cause next time I'll take you to play bingo with some elderly people!"

"Fuck yeah!" And she laughed. "Hey, the people who were at the event are already tweeting about it. Really positive feedback! Hmm, and even that annoying literary critic released a review of your book. I haven't read it yet, but from the headline, it seems he liked it. His idiot followers are going to sell out your book on Amazon now. Flawless victory!"

You two talked for another hour about various subjects, and then you realized that you would like to have her around always because working with Jessie sped things up and she was fun company too.

Around midnight, you both decided to call it a night and go back to the hotel. She went in first, and you decided to stay outside a bit longer to smoke a cigarette. You sat on the curb near the hotel façade and lit a cigarette. You weren't exactly a smoker. Only about five cigarettes a month, at most. The urge to smoke at that moment came naturally, healthily, just to end the night and have more time to reflect on the day before going to sleep. Things were finally falling into place, and you wanted to enjoy this feeling of peace a little longer. The street was very calm. The cold, damn, was intense. Although the rain had stopped, the wind remained relentless, and your blazer was your hero.”

"Can I join you?" asked a sweet voice.

You instinctively looked back.

"Sana?! Is that you?" you asked, quite startled.

It took you a few moments to recognize her because Sana had changed clothes, now wearing something more comfortable and that protected her from the cold.

"I'm glad you haven't forgotten my name."

She sat down beside you.

"What are you doing here?"

"I was heading back to the hotel."

"Oh, are you staying at this hotel too?"

She smiled at you.

"What a coincidence, right?"

"Yeah... It's quite chilly, isn't it?"

"True. Can I ask you something?"

"Yeah, of course. Feel free to ask anything."

"Who is that girl who's always with you?"

"What?"

"The brunette girl who wears glasses. She was always around you at the bookstore."

"Oh, you mean Jessie? She's my assistant. She helped with organizing the event. Very smart girl."

Sana scoffed and laughed.

"Smart, huh? Okay... Do you like girls like that?"

"It's a good quality in anyone."

"Except when they're arrogant towards people," Sana remarked, a little bitterly.

"That's true. Luckily, Jessie isn't that kind of person."

"Oh, really?" Sana questioned. "But let's stop talking about her now."

"Did you stay here just for the book launch?"

"Of course. I traveled just to see you, silly." She placed her hand on your knee. "You looked so lonely sitting here."

"I was just about to go into the hotel."

"Can we go in together? What do you think?"

"What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean. Don't pretend you don't."

Yeah, you could get an idea. Her tone of voice was unmistakable. Sana obviously wanted to go to bed with you, and since the bookstore, you felt something different coming from her. It was hard to explain exactly what it was... whether it was good or bad... You couldn't say.

"Please, Sana. I'm much older than you..."

"I'm not as young as I look. And I know you want this too."

Her hand slid up your thigh. Sana had a warm, comforting touch, and an intrusive thought made you imagine what it would be like for that hand to touch your cock.

"Look, I'm not that kind of guy," you stood up. "I don't take young girls infatuated with idols to bed. It's not right."

"There's nothing wrong with it!" she said, almost shouting.

"For me, it's wrong, Sana."

"Am I not attractive enough?"

The devil knew how attractive she was. That face, those eyes, that smile, the scent... It was all too familiar. And her slender body... It had been a while since you had sex. Since the divorce, you hadn't been with anyone else. There were attempts from some women, but you pushed them away due to the self-loathing you felt.

Were you still doing this? Had therapy failed?

No, this was a different situation.

"Sana, you're beautiful. You caught my eye the moment I saw you at the bookstore. Not just mine, I bet. You're a stunning woman, but this just... isn't right for me. I'm sorry, I need to go in now."

"Your attention is the only one I want. We can get to know each other better if that's the issue. I rea-"

You left her talking alone on the sidewalk and entered the hotel. You felt bad for doing that, but damn it, you knew she wouldn't give up if you kept stringing her along.

In the bedroom, finally, you were getting ready to go to sleep. You needed to get up early for a meeting with your literary agent via Zoom; in the afternoon, you would catch a flight back home and finally rest properly. You lay in bed, eyes closed, trying to sleep, trying to think of anything other than that woman. Girl. She was just a girl. After a while, it became difficult to hold onto any thoughts; you knew you would fall asleep soon…

Knock, knock!... Knock, knock!

You opened your eyes, somewhat groggy. Did someone knock on the door? You could have sworn you heard it. But sometimes you heard sounds from beyond, mere creations of your mind. Despite that, you got up and decided to investigate anyway. You looked but didn't see anyone through the peephole. You thought about going back to bed, but something stronger than you made you open the door and glance down the hallway.

She was leaning against the wall to the left of the door.

"Sorry to bother you again," Sana said timidly.

"What are you doing here? And how did you find my room?" you asked, not in an annoyed tone. You were still half-asleep to fully grasp the situation.

"That doesn't matter. I wanted to apologize to you for everything I said."

She seemed genuinely sad, remorseful maybe. And faced with her sadness, the first thing you thought about was how beautiful she looked in that silk pajama, casually sexy, with long sleeves and short shorts that revealed Sana's beautiful thighs. It was the pajama you most enjoyed seeing on women. Tremendous coincidence.

"It's okay. Look, I'm not angry with you. Let's forget all this, alright? Go back to your room and get some sleep."

"And you think I'll be able to sleep?" she asked, looking deep into your eyes. "If you were in my place, could you sleep knowing that the love of your life is in another bed on a floor above yours?"

You took a moment before answering.

"Probably not. But there's nothing I can do about it, Sana."

"I've dreamed of this moment for years. When you turned your back on me out there, I felt like dying. It hurt."

You took a deep breath. It was like being trapped in a submarine that kept sinking. You saw her eyes shimmering with tears that could spill at any moment.

In these dilemmas, everything seems to lose its purpose for a moment. And a moment is enough to derail everything else. You knew that, but even so:

"Come in," you said to her.

"Seriously?"

"Yes. It's cold out in the hallway. Let's talk a bit in here."

Sana entered; you asked her to sit on the edge of the bed with you.

"I'm not exactly sure what to say. But maybe you're fixated on a parasocial relationship doomed to fail."

"How can you say that without even trying first? I know you're hurt. Believe me, I understand that perfectly. But I want to prove to you that you can trust someone again. I want to repay what you've done for me."

"This is so damn strange, Sana. So strange that I can't even properly grasp what's happening."

She moved a bit closer to you.

"You've been my peace of mind since I read your first book. Your characters, your stories, your interviews, your lectures — everything was a refuge for me! I followed everything you did. I never missed an episode of that segment you and your friend hosted on the radio talking about movies. And the signal was awful in my town," she told you, ridiculously excited. You almost felt sorry for her in that moment.

"Sana, you don't understa-" You suddenly felt a chill run through your entire body. A tightening in your chest. The scent of Sana... It was familiar for a reason: she was wearing the same lilac perfume that your ex-wife used to wear. You thought you'd never smell that fragrance again.

"Is something wrong?" Sana asked, concerned.

"No, nothing," you replied.

Your voice wouldn't pass through your throat. A sudden urge to cry overwhelmed you.

"Are you sure?" She held your hand. "Your expression changed so suddenly."

"I'm just tired."

"I know you've been through a lot in recent years. So many problems... You've been terribly lonely." She touched your face. So soft... You just wanted her to continue. "You need a woman to take care of you. Someone who truly knows you and admires you, and who will never, ever leave you.”

“No. Look, Sana, you’re confusing things again. I didn’t call you here to-”

“Shh! You think too much! Just for tonight, set reason aside and feel the vibe a little.” Sana slowly slid her hand over your chest, stopping where your heart was. Then she whispered, “You realize? Your body wants it. And if I put my hand on your cock now, I’d be twice as sure of it.”

Sana sat on your lap. She kissed your cheek slowly and whispered in your ear: "touch me. Please, touch me." The words seemed to float with some kind of magic, and before you could notice, you were enchanted by her. You held Sana’s waist and brought your face closer to her neck, breathing in that fragrance that was once so familiar to you. "Kiss me", Sana said. Your lips touched her neck, kissing every inch of her delicate skin very slowly as your mind was transported to a place you missed. You heard her breathing grow heavier, then Sana started lightly kissing your earlobe while stroking your hair. The kisses turned to licks, then to nibbles, and finally, to sucking. You pressed her body against yours, overwhelmed with shivers. Sana moved her hips over your groin; you knew she was feeling the outline of your cock, enjoying driving you crazy, and, of course, adding more fuel to the fire spreading inside her.

“Lie down on the bed, baby,” she purred.

You didn’t have time to react as Sana pushed you down while staying on top of you. Viewed from above, Sana exuded a frightening confidence, and the way she guided you made it clear that this was obviously not new to her.

“I’m going to suck you now. Just lie back and relax. I’ll take care of the rest.”

You felt Sana's teasing touch as she pulled down your pants along with your underwear, her eyes shining with insatiable lust. Her warm lips enveloped your cock with hypnotizing skill, each movement of her tongue tracing paths of pure pleasure. "I’ve always wanted to taste you," she whispered, her voice laden with malice, before taking you deep into her mouth. The sensation was electrifying, and you felt every nerve in your body pulse with excitement; your extremely sensitive cock reacted intensely to each suck, lick, and kiss from Sana. You hadn't had sex in years, and even masturbation was no longer part of your life, so the intensity of the situation consumed you quickly to the point of making you explode like fireworks. "I’m gonna cum," you warned, but she just kept eye contact, Sana’s eyes challenging as she sucked harder. "Cum in my mouth, you pervert," she commanded, and you did, a hoarse moan escaping your lips. Sana swallowed all your cum, smiling mischievously as she slowly licked her lips. "Mmm, delicious," she murmured, then squeezed your cock to get every last drop left at the tip, capturing it with her tongue as it dripped, licking it like ice cream while you rolled your eyes in pleasure.

Sana didn’t give you time to catch your breath. Before reason could return to your mind, she was already sliding her lips over your body, planting wet and voracious kisses on your thighs. She asked you to take off your shirt, and so you did. Her lips reached your nipples, licking and sucking them with an almost painful intensity. "You’re going to get hard for me again, you naughty writer!" she murmured against your skin, her eyes shining with a wicked determination, her adorable face carrying a demonic facet at the same time. "I know you still have breath for me; I can see it in your eyes," she teased, her hand working skillfully on your erection, the firm and rhythmic movements quickly bringing your cock back to life. You felt the excitement growing again, unable to resist her skill.

Sana took off her shorts and turned around, getting on all fours in front of you, raising her ass invitingly, her hips swaying provocatively. "Come fuck me, I want to feel you filling me," she taunted, her voice both an invitation and a challenge. "Come on, don’t be shy now," she laughed, looking over her shoulder with a naughty smile. "You’re mine, only mine," she said, her voice laden with possession. You positioned yourself behind her, your hands firmly gripping her hips as you penetrated her forcefully. The sensation of being inside her, so warm and tight, was intoxicating. Sana moaned loudly, pushing back against you with every thrust. "Yes, harder," she begged, her voice filled with desire and need. "Fuck this tight pussy," she ordered, and you obeyed, each thrust making her moans echo through the room, the humid and hot atmosphere building to a crescendo.

Soon, you both got out of bed. Sana was being pressed against the wall by you, her hands held above her head by yours. "You're a fucking slut," you whispered in her ear, your voice a possessive growl as you penetrated her deeply and squeezed her small breasts. "And you love this, don't you?" she responded, her voice a mix of command and plea. "Come on, fuck me more," she teased, her eyes closed in pleasure. "I want you all to myself," she moaned. You lifted one of her legs, allowing an even deeper and more intense penetration. "Yeah! Like that, baby!" she moaned, the sound of skin against skin, her moans, and heavy breathing filled the room.

Finally, you returned to the bed, where Sana positioned herself on top of you. She began to sit on your cock with her back to you, her slow and sensual movements driving you crazy. "Your cock goes so deep in my pussy! Admit it, I fuck better than your ex-wife, don't I?" she teased, looking over her shoulder with a naughty smile. "You know I'm right, you're loving me so much!" You could only nod, pleasure dominating every fiber of your being. "You're mine, and only mine. You can do anything to me, I don't care," she murmured possessively. Then, she turned around and started riding you facing forward, her hands entwining with yours. "I'm going to make you cum again, you naughty boy," she promised, increasing the pace. Every movement she made was erotic, your bodies moving in perfect harmony. And she smiled at you between moans with passion and devotion, Sana was simply incredible. "Tell me I'm the best you've ever had, tell me I'm better than your ex-wife," she demanded, her eyes locked on yours. "Tell me you love me," she insisted, her voice loaded with an obsession that only made the sex more exciting.

The tension was growing, the arousal becoming unbearable, and you could feel the climax approaching rapidly. "I can't take it anymore," you panted, but Sana just smiled wickedly. "You can cum inside me if you want. I'm all yours!" she whispered, her eyes gleaming with desire. With a sudden realization, you stood up and pulled her, laying Sana on her back on the bed (the last thing you wanted right now was to get a fan pregnant). Your sweaty and trembling body positioned above her. "Come on, fuck me more! Don't stop now, love," she taunted, her eyes locked on yours, her voice laden with desire and possession. "You're making your woman so happy, did you know that?" she whispered, her voice trembling with pleasure.

You penetrated her again, the movements intense and fast. Your moans intensified, the bed creaking softly as you fucked Sana with renewed ferocity. The pleasure was palpable, an electric current between you. You felt every muscle in your body tense, the climax inevitable. "Come on, fill me with your cum," she moaned, her voice laden with lust and desperation.

"Cum for me, please!" she moaned, her eyes locked on yours with passionate intensity. With one final, powerful movement, you withdrew from her, feeling your body pulse with pleasure. You quickly started to masturbate, your fingers moving frantically along your cock as the pleasure built up. "Yes, cum on my belly, make a mess on it," she encouraged, her gaze fixed on yours with insatiable hunger. Finally, you exploded, spraying your hot cum on her belly, each spurt accompanied by a hoarse moan of relief and ecstasy. “Cum more, baby! Give me all that milk! Yes! Yes! Mmmm, so warm, baby.” The hot liquid covered Sana's sweaty skin, and you rubbed the head of your cock on her thigh... soft as hell.

Sana smiled, satisfied, her eyes shining with a sickly love that at that moment even seemed logical to you. She was irresistible; that was the problem. Before you could see it, you were on top of her, planting kisses on Sana's lips while her fingers traced circles on your chest, somehow still connected by the moment of pure lust. "You are mine, and I will make you feel that every time," she whispered, her eyes still shining with desire. "See? We were made for each other. This is love, dear," she murmured, making it clear that this wouldn't be the last time she claimed you so intensely. "I’m going to get you addicted to me, my little writer," she promised, making the moment even more erotic and suffocating.

Still gasping for breath, you gazed at each other, bodies pressed together, sweat mingling between you. Without a word, you leaned in and kissed Sana with overwhelming passion, your tongues meeting with deep desire. Sana responded with equal fervor, her hands tracing lines of fire across your body wherever they touched. "You taste so good," she murmured between kisses, her fingers gripping your muscles, pulling you closer still. "It's just like I dreamed it would be."

Your lips trailed down her neck, nibbling and sucking on delicate skin as she softly moaned in your ear. "I love you… Don't leave me, please," she pleaded, struggling to suppress a compulsive urge to cry in your arms. Your bodies moved in perfect sync. Your hands slid down her back, firmly holding her waist as she rubbed her body against yours, sparking renewed excitement.

You rolled on the bed, bodies intertwined, exploring every inch of each other's skin. "You're mine," she repeated, her voice laden with possessive desire, her hands roaming your chest, her lips never far from yours for long. Every kiss, every touch, carried an almost unbearable intensity, a need to reaffirm the delicate connection that had formed between you.

Finally, the two of you settled down, still kissing, the caresses becoming gentler but no less passionate. "I want you more than anything," she murmured against your lips, her fingers lazily tracing patterns on your chest. "You don't need to speak right now. I accept all this silence, for now. I know you're processing what just happened, but understand that I will make you want only me… You'll see," she asserted, her gaze meeting yours, making it clear that the promise of pleasure and possession wouldn't end there.

You woke up in a silence too good to be true. Terribly calm and comfortable. Of course, because you were not alone. That girl, Sana, sleeping peacefully like an angel on your chest. She had a serene and innocent expression, very different from the girl you saw last night. You got up slowly, being careful not to wake her.

What the fuck!!

You checked your phone and saw that it was already past noon. You had slept through the entire morning and missed breakfast with Jessie, where she was supposed to give you the details of your participation in a YouTube literature channel. Several missed calls from Jessie and your literary agent. Damn, you also missed the meeting with your literary agent.

Failing again. You were letting people down, and that's how everything started to go downhill in your life. ‘I’m a Best-Selling author, these things don’t affect me.’ Your arrogance was part of your downfall.

You looked at Sana, she was still sleeping.

And it's all her fault...

No, you were just blaming someone else again. You thought you had set the alarm on your phone but it was on silent mode. Weird as hell. You never leave your phone on silent.

Ah, screw it all! You went to take a shower; it would certainly help clear your mind. Then when you came out of the bathroom, Sana was sitting on the bed.

“Good morning, baby,” she said. “Come here!” Sana extended her arms, expecting you to go to her.

“You need to go now,” you said curtly.

It was time to end this once and for all.

“Sorry, I don’t understand.”

“Now! What we had was a mistake, Sana.” You took a deep breath. No point in getting stressed now. “I can call a car for you if you want.”

She looked at you, confused.

“What do you mean by ‘a mistake’? Wasn’t what we had special to you?”

“It meant nothing, Sana. I lost my mind at that moment.”

She got up from the bed, deeply irritated.

“I thought I knew everything about you, but I guess I was wrong! Yeah, even I can be wrong sometimes... Do you do this to all the girls who are your fans? Take them to bed and then discard them like trash?”

“I never slept with a fan! This was the first and last time.”

“Don’t do this to me!” she shouted, pointing her finger in your face. “You can’t use me like a toy, I’m warning you, this will have consequences!”

“It was you who came knocking on my door, Sana! Look… just forget it, okay? If I misled you, I apologize. I was a jerk. Is that what you wanted to hear?”

“You don’t understand. Damn it, you don’t understand… You are the reason I live! I waited so long for this, waited so long to find you… I thought I did everything right… How can you do this to me?” Sana asked, her voice breaking.

“Don’t do this to yourself, Sana.” you tried to comfort her with a hand on her shoulder. “Take a shower, eat something. You’ll feel better. And go home, please.”

“You can’t do this to me,” tears were in her eyes. “I did everything for you, you know? Everything, you bastard!”

You were caught off guard by a slap. The sound echoed loudly in the room.

“What the hell is your problem?” you asked, more incredulous than angry.

She walked past you and went to the door.

“I swear to God, this isn’t the last time you’ll see me. You’re mine, understand? I’ll forgive you this time because I still feel that affection you showed me last night. I know it was real! I’ll try not to think about what happened now.”

“Hmm, okay.” you said, relieved. “That’s great.”

In a few hours, you’d be flying back to your city and, obviously, would never see her again.

“You don’t mess with a woman’s feelings like this, you know? You hurt me here, but I forgive you because I love you, okay?” she was silent for a few moments, perhaps waiting for you to return those words or apologize. But you stayed silent. “I love you more than my life, and I will fight for our love. And next time... you won’t be able to escape me.”

She closed the door.

“Fuck, finally!”

The words she said during sex… they weren’t just dirty talk to turn you on… she really meant them.

You went to the bathroom and looked at yourself in the mirror. To your dismay, Sana’s hand was marked on your face.

"Wow! You must have been incredibly tired!" Jessie said to you as you met at the airport.

"I'm really sorry for missing breakfast and lunch. I promise it won't happen again."

"It's all right. You were a hit yesterday; the boss and I will give you a pass. By the way, you talked to him, right?"

"Yes. Everything's sorted out."

"He's really freaking happy about the new baby, isn't he?"

"Yes, he is!"

"So, I'll give you the details of the interview during the flight. Hmm, did you eat anything?"

"Burger and fries."

"You need to eat better. You can't just eat that kind of stuff. When your schedule gets really busy, you won't want to get sick." She warned, and you couldn't help but find it funny that a 20-year-old girl was acting like your nanny. "Lunch was great, sir. You really missed the best part of the day."

"You must have waited for me a long time, huh? I feel terrible about it."

"Oh, of course not. After you texted me saying you weren't coming to lunch, I went ahead and ate alone!"

"What?"

"Hmm?"

"The message. I didn't text you."

"You literally sent me a message saying you were exhausted and would keep sleeping. You must have been half-asleep when you typed it and forgot."

You took your phone out of your pocket, completely desperate. You opened the chat with Jessie and there it was: 'I'm more tired than I thought, not coming to lunch. Oh, and the meeting is postponed too. Sorry!!'

Fuck...

You felt a chill in your stomach. Sana had sent that damn message. How the hell did she know your phone's password? The most plausible answer was that she used your fingerprint to unlock the phone while you were sleeping. That girl was really sick.

"Are you okay?" Jessie asked.

"Yes, sure! It's nothing."

It wasn't worth mentioning to Jessie that Sana had sent the message; you would have to explain everything to her, and the whole story was embarrassing and weird. When it came to revealing that you slept with a young woman just because she wore the same perfume as your ex-wife (there were other things besides the perfume, but mentioning the rest would only worsen your image), you would have no credibility left and would certainly be considered a disturbed person by Jessie.

The best thing to do was to forget everything that happened yesterday, except for the book launch, and then move on with your life. You were going to 'take a vacation' soon, so this series of bizarre events would soon fade from your mind… Thank God!

Later on the plane, you were looking for some photos of the book launch to send to your sponsor, the guy who was helping you avoid alcohol relapses. He was a good man and would surely be happy to know that your return to literature had been successful. You were scrolling through the photos taken last night when one of them caught your attention. In fact, it scared the hell out of you. You kept scrolling through the gallery, and the photos seemed endless, many in a row that looked very similar to each other. You almost dropped your phone on the floor.

You quickly turned off your phone screen and looked at the seat next to you. Fortunately, Jessie was sound asleep.

You turned your phone screen back on and opened one of the photos, analyzing it for a few seconds. It seemed unreal. It was as if the surprises never ended. While you were sleeping, Sana had stealthily taken your phone to snap all this photos. It was conclusive proof that she had indeed violated your privacy, perhaps thinking the would be a special memento of that night.

But

In reality

It was a reminder of a terrible mistake you made.

To be continued...

792 notes · View notes

bvidzsoo · 5 months

Text

Darkness prevails

᯽ Author: bvidzsoo

᯽ Pairing: Jeong Yunho x female reader

᯽ Warning: suggestive, cursing, violence (lots of it), maiming/marking, extreme possessiveness, manhandling, blood, beheading, death, dubious consent, morally grey subjects (you'll see what I mean, but I promise nothing like that actually happens), let me know if I forgot something cries

᯽ Word count: 25.6k

᯽ Genre: Fantasy, Royal, Dark Romance, Gore

᯽ Summary: King Jeong Yunho, first of his name, was a ruler everybody feared and nobody dared mess with. Anyone who didn't oblige to his laws, suffered the consequences. Perhaps stealing an apple seemed like a misstep that many would've overlooked, but not Jeong Yunho. Go against the laws: get punished, branded, humiliated, forever outcasted by society, and the King himself. Unfortunately, you were way too familiar with the King's tyranny, having been the subject of his torture more than once. But what happens, when once and for all, Prince San, his brother, finally decides to get rid of the cruel monarch? Will you succeed with your mission? Will you kill King Jeong Yunho? Or will he wrap you up even deeper in his sick web of lies and threats.

᯽ A/N: My wrists are about to fall off and my eyes are dry despite the eye drops I'm using, but here it is my lovelies, the first part of the Beyond the Obscure series! Guys...it's dark, I'm sorry, so yeah, take the warnings seriously, I promise I haven't written them very in detail (imo) but they are there. I think this is my darkest work so far (even worse than San's part in my pirate series) and y'all have no idea what I have planned for Seonghwa and Yeosang's part (clawing at the wall because that one will be even worse NAUR). I'd like to point out a few things before you start reading:

∞ Yunho is continuously mentioned as the King in the story or Your Grace

∞ perhaps keeping in mind the interaction between Mingi and the redhead will come in handy for future purposes *wink wonk*

∞ I hope I did a good job with this story, and I'm sorry if it sucks, I really tried to tackle this beast of a piece...and sorry for any mistakes, I always proofread but some just slip past me *sighs*

Enjoy the story and let me know what you thought of it, I'm always so grateful to all the feedback I get!! Taglist is open, so just comment on the post if you're interested in the future parts (check out the series' masterlist too to understand how the series works, thank you!) (divider)

᯽ Taglist: @seonghwaddict @thunderous-wolf @simpforyunsangho @kitten4sannie

─═☆Series M.list☆═─

At such an ungodly hour no lady was supposed to be roaming the streets alone, unguarded, exposed to the horrors of the slums. But some ladies had no other choice but to do so if they wanted to survive, to see tomorrow’s sunrise. Not that there was anything to anticipate or love in the Kingdom of the Fallen, ruled by a ruthless and malicious King, who slayed his people left and right whenever he pleased to do so. And perhaps that’s what ebbed me on to keep on walking, made me straighten my back to the point my muscles were straining as I made sure to become one with the shadows as I passed by the long fallen asleep households, headed towards the outskirts of our well-guarded burgh of Aurora. Don’t let it fool you, despite its name, there was nothing beautiful nor welcoming to this place, only terror, fear, and darkness. Our King made sure of that.

I tried to ignore the trembling of my fingers, but it became harder and harder to do so the closer I got to the well-concealed mansion. Large trees loomed over the gravel pathway that led to its enormous marble stairs, not one light was on inside. One would think the mansion was abandoned, but as soon as you stepped foot inside, its well-maintained state gave away the truth. Perspiration had started gathering on my brows, and I realized that underneath my pricey leather glove the skin of my right hand had started itching, begging to be scratched, but I knew doing so would cause my freshly healed wound to open up again. That wound was something I would have to live with forever, maimed, tainted for life. Marked for a wrong doing that cost the life of my little brother. It was hard not to blame or hate yourself when your sickly brother died in his sleep after you failed showing up for three days, begging and screaming to be let out of the dungeons of the wretched Castle, but my pleas fell to deaf ears, unsurprisingly.

King Jeong Yunho didn’t care about his people, and he never would. Famish and crime were at its peak despite the harsh punishments and executions. Despite the King having ears and eyes everywhere, some people managed to get away, escape unscathed, and one of those people just so happened to be Choi San, the crown prince. He fled the night his brother killed King Choi, aware that he would be next to suffer the same faith as their beloved father if he stood in his older brother’s way. Nobody really knew where Prince San went, but upon seeing his most trusted servant and Royal Guard, Sir Jung Wooyoung, around town, it became obvious that Prince San and Sir Jung were still lurking around. And despite what it seemed like, despite King Jeong being awful and vicious, Prince Choi wasn’t like him. He loved his people, he mourned with his people, he laughed with his people, and he lived for his people. Many hated him for disappearing, thinking he had abandoned us and was letting his older brother do however he wished, but many failed to understand that Prince San was powerless if it came down to a war between the brothers. Prince San didn’t have enough men to fight back against King Jeong’s tyranny. And that’s when I was summoned. Barely a day ago, a black envelope with a crown stamp on it had been slipped in my pouch without me noticing. Having opened it, I was rather surprised to find myself being summoned to the abandoned mansion, which belonged to the Royal family, on the outskirts of the burgh.

And when a royalty summoned you, you showed up without asking questions or making them wait too long. The roads were drenched in darkness, mist surrounding the narrow cobblestone streets, and smog escaped my mouth as little puffs left through my lips, heart beating even faster now that I stood in front of the dark mansion. I never fully showed my face in public, but being well past midnight without another soul out on the streets of Aurora, I offered myself the luxury of breathing in the chilly air of the night. The moon was in waxing crescent, and averting my eyes from it, I stared up at the massive mansion and steeled my nerves, pushing away all the swirling thoughts threatening to turn me back around just to run off in the night, far away from Aurora. But even if I ran, I had nowhere to go. And even if I ran, the King’s men would find me and bring me back. I never had a choice, nor the freedom to indulge in my dreams and wishes. So, I took a deep breath, fixed the sheer scarf around the lower half of my face, and ascended the marble stairs with chills running down my spine due to the biting cold. It felt like it had seeped through my clothes, nagging at my skin, injected straight into my bones. But if I dwelled more on this feeling, I knew it was mostly the fear spreading through my blood system that made me react so strongly. And there was no place for fear tonight.

When I reached my hand out to push the front door of the mansion open, I found it already slightly ajar, beckoning me inside. My heartbeat was loud in my ears as I cautiously ventured inside, closing the heavy door behind myself, needing a second to take in the majesty of the interior of the mansion. The floor and walls alike were covered in white marble, glinting under the moonlight as the large windows had no curtains in the large entrance hall. A sturdy round table sat in the middle of the chamber, a large vase filled to the brim with flowers of all kinds sat on top of the table, in the center of it. There was a sweet scent wafting through the air, and as I ventured further inside, the cold chill present in the entrance hall slowly turned into blush inducing warmth, making me shiver as I finally started feeling my frozen limbs.

I was wandering around mindlessly, having no idea where I was supposed to go as nobody seemed to be waiting for me, my eyes straying to the walls, admiring all the expensive paintings. They were brought from lands far from ours, from a land where life was easier and happier. The Kingdom of Light, much like its name, was ruled by a Queen that loved her nation and thrived to unite the two Kingdoms. However, as long as King Jeong was our monarch, that would never happen. Faint whispers caught my attention as I came towards the end of the hall, a large door separating me from the next room. A huge painting was hung up on the wall to the left of the black door, and my jaw clenched as my eyes fixated on the family portrait, more specifically, on King Jeong Yunho. Despite him looking a lot younger in the photo, the evil glint was still present in his sharp stare, and suddenly the skin of my right hand itched again, prompting me to mindlessly try and scrape at it through the leather glove. But the whispers coming to a sudden halt from inside the room, and the faint yellow glow coming to life through the little gap under the door ripped my attention away from the young King and made me tense up as footsteps neared the door. And then, there was a click and the door was pulled open, an emotionless man, with asymmetrical eyes, stood in front of me, taking me in just as closely as I took him in.

“Sir Jung Wooyoung.” I bowed my head, keeping my eyes on the marble floor until the man made a sound of approval.

“You have arrived,” He said, voice sharp and impassive, “Come inside.”

The door was further pulled open and as Jung Wooyoung stepped aside, I stepped forward, hands clenching into fists as I tried to fight the desperate need to turn around and just run. Far away from here, from the crown prince and his loyal guard, far from Aurora. But the King would always find me, and he’d bring me back, matter not if dead or alive, he’d bring me back.

As the door slammed heavily shut behind me, I fought the need to jump at the loud sound, and instead made eye contact with the crown prince. He sat in a large chair, straight across from me, at a round table. The table was massive and could fit at least twenty men if gathered around it, but now, it was just Prince Choi, Sir Jung, and myself in the room. The blackout curtains were drawn together, its color a blood red, shutting out the gentle moonlight, masking whatever would go down in this room from the celestial. Nobody had to know what would conspire in this room soon.

“Your Highness,” I bowed forward, keeping my eyes on the carpeted floor as a low hum traveled through the otherwise quiet room, “you have called for me.”

“I have, yes.” Prince San’s voice was low, and quiet, his sharp eyes narrowed as I straightened back up. We made eye contact as there was movement behind me, Sir Jung walked past me and came to a stop behind Prince San, placing a hand on the chair’s back, grip tightening instantly, “Do you have any idea why?”

“I do not have the power to assume anything.” I answered, eyes quickly seizing the room I was in. It wasn’t awfully big, like the rest of the mansion, and it was a lot less warm in here. Bookshelves aligned the tall walls behind the prince and his guard, and a comfortable sofa was pushed up against the left wall, drenched in shadows as the candlelight didn’t reach there.

“You may speak freely with me, Miss Hong, I am not my brother.” Prince San said, teeth gritting at the mention of King Jeong, “And I do not wish to be ever like that, which is why I have called you here.”

“Don’t you deem it dangerous, Your Highness, calling me here?” I quirked an eyebrow and walked further inside, approaching the table, “King Jeong knows you are still residing in Aurora, and now you’ve given your location away to a mere civilian.”

“Are you threating the crown prince right now?” Jung Wooyoung’s voice was rough and words biting as he leashed out, vein close to popping on his forehead, eyes ablaze. He looked menacing, especially with the long sword sheathed at his hip, handle hidden by the red wool jacket decorated with golden accents falling over it.

“Wooyoung,” It was strange how soft the prince’s voice became, eyes finding the guard’s, “she’s not the enemy. You don’t have to be so on edge.”

“How do you know?” Sir Jung hissed back, eyes still on me, glaring me down. I gulped, but didn’t look away. I didn’t want them to think I was scared, even if I was.

“Miss Hong,” The prince’s attention was back on me, expression losing its coldness for a second, “May I ask you show us your hand?”

My jaw clenched as I remained silent, heart thumping fast. I wanted to tell him no, that he had no right asking such thing of me, but I couldn’t deny the crown prince’s request. And despite detesting what I had to do, with shaky fingers, I still ripped the leather glove off my hand, breathing hard as I threw the piece of fabric on the table, letting my arms fall limply next to my body. Nobody said anything nor moved for a few seconds, Sir Jung’s gaze hurriedly falling onto my exposed right hand. The room was poorly lit, yet it wasn’t hard to miss the discoloration on the top of my right hand, the skin raw and burgundy despite the long-healed wound. It was just a scar now, yet it remained fresh looking, forever a reminder of who I belonged to.

“You don’t have to trust me,” I found my voice, and perhaps I shouldn’t have been surprised to hear myself sounding so cold and harsh, “but you can trust one thing. I, in no universe, serve King Jeong Yunho. And I never will. If the scar isn’t proof enough, send me out to kill him, and I will do it with a smile on my face.”

I didn’t expect any reaction from the two males across from me, and so it surprised me when the two held matching smirks, sharing a quick look before Jung Wooyoung slowly approached me again. My eyes stayed on him, and I flinched as he gingerly grasped my right hand, raising it up. I couldn’t bear looking at the skin, so I looked at Prince San instead.

“I’m sorry for what my brother has done to you.” And his words were sincere, there was pain in Prince San’s eyes, and I knew he was sincere. I don’t know why, but despite Jung Wooyoung’s calloused hands, the way he traced my scar with the tip of his finger gingerly, made me relax a little. If they wanted me dead, they would have killed me the second I approached the front door of the mansion.

“You shouldn’t apologize for something that’s out of your control, Your Highness.” I muttered, looking at Wooyoung alarmed when he pressed his lips against my scar, the warm and plush skin lingering against mine for a second. Nobody has every touched my scar, let alone kissed it. When Sir Jung looked at me, he held the same guilt and pain in his eyes as Prince San. It was overwhelming, and so I ripped my hand out of Sir Jung’s gentle hold, and scurried to wear my glove again. I didn’t need their pity, what’s done is done.

“How many times has that devil seen you?” It was Sir Jung asking this time as he slowly stalked back towards Prince San, stopping next to his chair this time. I didn’t fail to notice the way the crown prince grabbed onto the back of his royal guard’s thigh, thick fingers digging into Sir Jung’s skin. They seemed used to the contact, both unphased, so I averted my gaze from it.

“Twice.” I answered, lowering the sheer black scarf from the lower half of my face, “I always wear my scarf in public.”

“And do you think he’d recognize you if he were to see you again?” Prince San asked, his hand slowly sneaking up towards Sir Jung’s ass. My eyebrows furrowed before I shook my head.

“No, he never got a good look at my face the second time, and I was branded three years ago.” I answered truthfully, “There’s not a world in which the King remembers the faces of those he torments.”

“You’re underestimating my brother,” Prince San’s lips pulled into a sneer, “he’s a sadistic man, Miss Hong, you’d be horrified to find out just how much he remembers and gets off to.”

I gulped, but remained silent as Sir Jung bit his lower lip when Prince San’s hand traveled even further up. There was movement to my left, but when I looked over to the sofa, I couldn’t see anything, so I focused on the males again.

“Are you willing to kill him?” Jung Wooyoung seemed to have gotten tired of going around and not getting to the point as he spat, eyes watching me closely. I didn’t hesitate with my answer.

“Yes.” I hissed, eyes turning steely as Sir Jung just smirked, leaning forward as he placed his hands on the sturdy table.

“Then I, Jung Wooyoung, Royal Guard of the Crown Prince Choi San, third of his name, task you with killing King Jeong Yunho, and ridding this Kingdom of his cruelty and horrors.” Sir Jung’s voice was laced with passion, eyes burning with an insatiable fire as Prince San rose from his seat, his strong physique making Jung Wooyoung look small for the first time.

“I promise you immunity and a respectable life once you’re done with your task. You won’t be suffering any consequences, and I will fulfill your biggest wish.” I chuckled, but it lacked humor as my eyes bore into the prince’s.

“I doubt you can bring back the dead, Your Highness.” Tense silence fell upon us, both looking like they understood what it meant losing someone dear. And if Prince San was being honest, then this would be my way out of Aurora, out of the Kingdom of the Fallen, “I shall proceed with the task, Your Highness, Sir Jung. Give me at least a month.”

“You can take even a year as long as you do your task.” Prince San said with a chuckle, looking like a stone had been lifted off his chest.

“Don’t fail us, Miss Hong.” Sir Jung didn’t let his guard down as easily as the prince, however, and the subtle look he sent my way was threatening. I understood. Failing meant death. But I wouldn’t let that happen.

“I won’t.” My voice was strong and I bowed, out of respect and a way of letting them know that I would be leaving now, I wouldn’t want to overstay my welcome.

“Take care, and send us a letter if you need anything,” Prince San smiled, just barely, “I will be keeping an eye on you still, just to make sure you’re safe and everything is working out.”

“Thank you, Your Highness.” I bowed my head again, and was slightly startled when a girl, who was smaller than myself and frail looking, emerged from the sofa. How did she manage to conceal herself so well? She looked shy as she avoided looking at me, eyes fixated on Sir Jung as she hurried towards him, “I’ll be on my way.”

“Safe travels.” The prince’s voice carried over the faint whispers of Sir Jung as I turned and stalked towards the door, intrigued by the gasp I heard. I gripped the heavy door and as I went to push it open, I dared a glance backwards, finding the girl seated where Prince San had been previously sat, her eyes round as she stared up at a smirking Jung Wooyoung. And Choi San sported the same expression as he walked behind her, hands slowly slipping over her shoulders, towards her chest. I didn’t want to witness something that wasn’t for my eyes, so I hurriedly fled the room and then the mansion altogether, mind a mess as I tried to work out the best plan to approach the King, and kill him. The waxing crescent moon witness to my new turmoil.

The streets of the burgh of Aurora in the daytime were a big contrast compared to its nighttime shenanigans. It was lively and filled with people going on and about their day, trying to catch the last paper at the printing house, buying resources or selling their best products at the market. Despite the wind being harsh today, it didn’t deter people from coming out to bargain, with the occasional fight breaking out in the square, rowdy men desperate to showcase who was most domineering. I remained inconspicuous as I stood behind the stand of a herbal stall, the vendor a very lovely old lady that would let me work for her while my brother was still alive. I rarely came to the market anymore, having found different ways for survival. Perhaps I was dumb for testing my luck day after day, but three years ago, I lost the reason I had been living for. And on that same day I was branded, forever belonging to King Jeong Yunho. I wasn’t afraid of death anymore; it was only a matter of time until it would catch up to me. Stealing and getting caught only resulted in a severed hand, I would still have my other one if King Jeong felt generous that day. But in order to observe the King and follow through with the task Prince San had tasked me with, I needed to be in the most populated areas, areas which the King often frequented. And the market and square were those places. The King would parade around every day with his Royal Guards, surveying the place and taking anything he liked without as much as a ‘thank you’. Everything belonged to him, he could take whatever he pleased without any consequence. It was something we had grown familiar with quite soon after he proclaimed himself the new King of the Kingdom of the Fallen. It was no secret that Jeong Yunho killed his own father to become King much faster, to assert a regime that his father, the late King Choi, would have absolutely hated and refuted. But as long as Prince Choi San was alive, there would always be a glimmer of hope for better times. Times that would perhaps come sooner than expected if I was successful with my mission.

I had been arranging the spearmint when an old lady stopped in front of the stand, leaning on a cane, face wrinkly, her sniffing loud as she stared at all the herbs displayed on the wooden table. It was cold today, yet the old lady lacked a coat that would protect her from the harsh wind. My eyebrows furrowed, and after checking that my black shawl was in place and covering the lower half of my face, I stepped forward.

“Good morning,” I greeted the lady with an easy smile, “How may I help you?”

Her eyes slowly travelled up to my face, and I was greeted with an unfortunate sight. Her eyes were clouded with cataracts, yet they fell perfectly on my own eyes, “Dear one, please help me out a little.”

Her voice was raspy and airy, so I nodded and went around the stand to approach her, the cacophony of the market too loud for her to properly hear me.

“What would you like to buy?” I asked once I have stopped next to the lady, her grey eyes focused on the herbs.

“I’m too old for my own good,” The old lady muttered with a sad chuckle, “my joints aren’t in their best shape. Do you have something to soothe the ache? Something strong and efficient.”

I hummed and glanced at the wooden table, knowing very well what would help ease the old lady’s pain a little, “Nettle will be great for your painful joints, ma’am. Would you like some?”

“Yes, please.” She nodded, eyes falling on me again, “Could you give me five leaves? That wouldn’t be more than two shillings, right?”

“No, it wouldn’t.” I reassured her with a smile as I walked back behind the stand and crouched down to grab a smaller brown parchment roll. I stood and grabbed five leaves as the loudness of the market seemed to get even louder at once, until it slowly started turning into a low murmur, becoming a mere hum. I paid it no mind as I carefully packed the nettle leaves the old lady asked for, slipping in three more without anyone noticing, before I wrapped the parchment up, making sure the leaves wouldn’t slip out, “It’ll be one shilling, ma’am.”

Despite speaking softly, my voice sounded almost too loud in the sinister silence falling upon the market, and it took me a little to realize what was happening. The old lady seemed unfocused as she had turned around, stepping back to the point she was almost pressed up fully against the wooden table of the stand. Nobody moved, nobody blinked, nobody spoke, nobody breathed. My hands clenched into fists and my leather gloves crunched at the motion, almost too loud in the deafening silence. The hooves of the horses were loud against the cobblestones and the crowd parted in the middle, scurrying to make way for the King and his Royal Guards. Despite not wanting to see them, I couldn’t help but turn my head and watch like the rest of the market, as the tall black horse rode at the front, a Friesian, carrying the King proudly on his back. Nobody would’ve been able to guess the horrors caused by the soft featured King, whose cheeks were full and tinged red due to the cold air, lips full and a dark red, eyes rather round than sharp. And yet, the emotionless expression on his face and the constant leer present on his features would make anyone reconsider their perception of the King, cowering in fear as his dark eyes would settle on you, lips pulling up in pleased smugness at the blatant fear displayed by his people. Everybody hated him, yet nobody was brave enough to finally stand up to him.

Four guards followed after him, a man with silver blonde hair and a towering height that matched the King’s following close behind with his own horse on the King’s right side, with his left side being claimed by a long-haired redhead, with eyes so haunting that they always stared right into your soul. Those two were the King’s Royal Guards, always by his side, his right hands. The King went nowhere without the two, and the silver blonde haired man was like a hound, always breathing down the King’s neck, possessive and murderous at the slightest hint of threat. One would think his obsessive behavior was concerning, but he took his job too seriously, having vowed his life to the King a long time ago. The woman wasn’t much better, but she at least was sly and coy about it, always surveying everyone and everything, sensing danger before it would happen.

The King and his guards passed by the herbal stall, and the poor old lady jumped and covered her eyes as she hung her head low, making sure she didn’t look at the King for too long. Nobody dared look at him for more than a few seconds, afraid that he’d misunderstand their curious stare and sentence them to a painful death. It wouldn’t have been the first time. But I wasn’t scared of death nor the King, and I allowed my eyes to follow his form as he came to a halt just a few stands down, where a loose-mouthed man sold jewelry. They were one of the finest you could find at the market, pricey too if you weren’t on good terms with him. I watched as the silver blonde haired guard got off his horse the second the King’s stopped, and hurried to stand next to the tall Friesian as King Jeong released the reigns, turning his head left and right slowly. The redhead followed close behind, stopping mere millimeters behind the tall guard, the two sharing a sharp glance as the male extended his hand to help the King down. The other two older guards remained on their horses, eyes surveying the market as their faces remained emotionless. I glared at the back of the King’s head sharply, his blood red gown decorated with golden accents too bright and contrasting against his otherwise black attire. His black riding breeches were tucked inside his tall riding boots, covering and protecting the King’s calves, reaching almost up to his knees, the fabric of the pants no doubt worth more than everything I’ve ever owned altogether. A thick looking black shirt clung to his broad body tightly, top buttons threatening to pop as the King rolled his shoulders a few times backwards, patting the silver blonde haired man on the back a little forcefully. The guard adorned a coat that reached mid-thigh, colors similar to the King’s, however his was rather black than red and it was adorned with red and golden accents showing his rank, and that he belonged to the Jeong Royal Court. The redhead’s coat reached down to her ankles and had intricate designs of red and golden down the back of the fabric, hair tucked under the coat.

The King moved, and I found my eyes fixating on him again, sneering to myself as he walked towards the vendor with the gemstones and jewelry. My body reacted instantly at the sight of his right hand, memory burned into my skin, quite literally, for the rest of my counted days. The King’s left hand was protected from the cold with a glove that looked like it was a soft material, however, his right hand was bare of such protection. Instead, his right hand was adorned by rings, claws, that I still could feel in my worst nightmares pressing into my skin. They were made of steel, and they were sharp, the jewelry on his fore- and middle finger sharp to the point they could cut your flesh. The ornaments clung to his long fingers like they were his second skin, part of him. The ring on his middle finger adorned a huge ruby, an addition to the piece made by King Jeong himself. His ring finger was decorated by a ring that curved to the side, caging his pinky finger in as well, which was decorated by a piece that could be compared to a miniature spear. The King’s right hand was a weapon in its own, easily able to stab and kill you just with his bare fingers. The ornaments were a family heirloom, one that only the King was allowed to wear, yet they haven’t been this sharp until they fell into the claws of Jeong Yunho. Their intricate design made them beautiful, but they carried too much terror with them for one to appreciate their beauty.

My eyes snapped up from his hand upon hearing his voice, a sound I still had nightmares about, “Chwe, did the gems arrive?”

“Your Grace,” The vendor called Chwe Hansol quickly bowed his head deeply, “yes, the gems have arrived this morning.”

“Perfect.” The King’s lips pulled to the side, the smirk making his whole demeanor more predatory. Despite only being able to see the side of his face, I knew he had a hungry glint in his eyes as the vendor grabbed a small wooden chest and opened it for the King. The redhead had started walking around while still remaining close to the King, inspecting the items the neighboring vendors of Mr. Chwe had. Everyone was tense as the King wordlessly grabbed the gemstones and inspected them from close, face becoming devoid of emotion again, eyebrows pulling into a frown slowly. I was sneering before he spoke up, well-aware that nothing would please the King, no matter how high quality it was.

“You call this a gem?” The King scoffed, irritation lacing his voice as he threw the gemstones back inside the little wooden chest harshly. Nobody would’ve handled the pricey gems like that, but when you had all the power and money in the world, one wouldn’t care, Jeong Yunho certainly didn’t. I couldn’t help the dark expression that crossed my face, eyes boring into the side of the King’s face, wondering suddenly that if I were to throw my dagger straight into his neck, how many more seconds I’d have left on this Earth before his loyal dogs would murder me in cold blood. Scarily, almost as if the silver blonde haired man was a mind reader, his head whipped around and his sharp eyes found mine, small eyes narrowing and making them appear even smaller. His impassive expression would’ve been nerve wrecking to one that appreciated their life, but I didn’t care for my safety. I had nothing left for me in this world anymore. The redhead was still roaming around, commenting at times about the quality of products, and she took a scarf without dropping any shillings to the poor vendor, her face twisting for a second before she fixed it and thanked the redhead for appreciating her merch.

“Your Grace,” Mr. Chwe found his voice, yet it sounded terrified, “These are from the Kingdom of Light, finest of its kind and most sought after—”

“Are you saying that I am stupid and can’t recognize real gemstones?” The King spat, leaning over the stand, his glaring eyes boring into the vendor’s. The man started to shake, and I grit my teeth to stop myself from interfering. If I got killed right now, I would fail the crown prince, and I couldn’t do that.

“No—no, Your Grace!” The vendor exclaimed, shaking his head furiously, “Your Grace knows better than I will ever know! I was merely say—saying what has been relayed to myself as well, Your Grace. I am ashamed of ever suggesting such thing, and I will never show my face around—”

“Now, now,” The King snickered, lips pulled into an amused, yet irritated, smirk, “don’t be a yapping little boy, are you going to cry?”

My jaw clenched and I found myself gripping onto my skirt tightly, breaths coming out shallow as the silver blonde haired man was still staring into my soul, watching my every move. His lips were pulled into a sneer, and I didn’t fail to notice his hand tightening around the handle of his sword.

“N—no, Your Grace.” Mr. Chwe lowered his eyes and shook his head, lips pulled into a thin line as his whole being shook, “Unless it’s what Your Grace wants me to do—”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” The King threw his head back and laughed, yet it lacked amusement and was laced with sheer craze, the sound sending shivers down my spine, “You’d cry for your King?”

Mr. Chwe’s head was shaking as he nodded, still staring at the ground. The King suddenly hissed and I almost took off towards the two as his right hand sprung forward, gripping the vendor’s jaw so hard his claws practically tore into his skin. The man’s face contorted in pain, yet he made no sound except the quiet gasp he accidentally let out, “Then cry for me, you pathetic fool.”

The King leered in the vendor’s face, tone laced with venom, eyes wide as Mr. Chwe watched the King stunned. I bit my lower lip as my eyes switched between the King and his royal guard, whose stare would have long killed me if that were possible. I knew what my eyes conveyed, they were laced with pure hatred and disdain, boring into the King’s profile as my hands shook in anger, threatening to bubble over any time. I was playing a dangerous game; I knew the shawl did little to nothing to conceal my raw emotions pulsating through my eyes.

“Bastards like yourself shouldn’t handle gemstones.” The King hissed just as the silver blonde haired man took off, jaw clenched and eyes set on me, ablaze. I have run out of luck, so it seems. But before he could even come close to the stall I was at, the King’s venomous tone turned to a light and almost airy tone.

“Song Mingi.” It wasn’t a question, nor a chastising, yet the guard froze instantly. His eyes never left my face as the King lazily tuned his head, dark eyes falling on his tall guard. The redhead was by the King’s side instantly, probably thinking that her fellow guardian sensed danger, ready to protect her King. The market seemed frozen in time as nobody spoke or moved, wide eyes now switching between the royal guard, Song Mingi, and myself. For a second, my heart skipped a beat thinking that I have been discovered, recognized, my right hand burning under the leather glove. But as the King’s eyes slowly trailed from his guard onto me, there was no sign of recognition on his face. I gulped, not due to nervousness, but because my throat suddenly felt dry, lungs tightening as the King’s dark eyes burned my skin, tearing me apart. The memory was too vivid in my mind despite it happening three years ago, and I realized that even if I tried my best, I wouldn’t be able to mask my hatred towards Jeong Yunho. But perhaps he was so used to that reaction that he didn’t care anymore as a sinister smile suddenly tugged at his red lips, hastily releasing Mr. Chwe, who fell back with a loud gasp. The King slowly stalked towards his loyal guard, yet his eyes never once left my face, amused smirk tugging at his lips. He was amused at the blatant hatred in my eyes, and I had to steel myself to stop the shaking of my hands at the sudden flare of anger I felt coursing through my veins.

“Stand down.” The King hissed in the guard’s ear as he walked past him, sharp claws grazing against the other tall man’s neck, but he didn’t flinch nor react at the contact. My eyes remained on the King as he neared the stand I stood at, the poor old lady gasping and stepping away with a low bow, probably bad for her already hurting and crooked back. I dared say nothing as Jeong Yunho stopped right across me, the table suddenly not enough to put the much-needed space between us. It felt like he had invaded my personal space, dark eyes boring into mine, narrowing into a blazing glare when I didn’t back down. Everyone cowered before the King, and just last minute, to try to make myself seem less suspicious, I finally lowered my eyes at the various herbs on the table, but I refused to bow. The King chuckled, but it sounded more vexed than amused. I didn’t care.

“Mingi,” He called out, voice low and dark, “grab those gemstones for me, will you?”

I didn’t glance up as I heard Mr. Chwe whimper and mutter apologies, a sharp cry leaving his lips. I could only hope the wound the King’s royal guard left wouldn’t be fatal. The King’s gloved hand suddenly entered my vision as he started touching the herbs displayed on the table, humming lowly in the back of the throat. I followed his hand with my eyes, jaw clenching when he scoffed, probably not satisfied by the scarce display of herbs. Of course, it couldn’t be compared to what he was aided with at the Castle, yet that was a thought Jeong Yunho wouldn’t be able to wrap his mind around.

“You’re running low on spearmint, little dove.” His velvety voice was mocking, and I felt his sharp gaze on my face as I gulped down the retort I had in mind, and slowly looked up.

“I will stock up on them today, Your Grace.” I couldn’t help but allow my tone to turn venomous when saying his title, “Had I known you were visiting our humble market, I would’ve brought out a wider range of herbs.”

The King chuckled, incredulity crossing his features at the blatant mockery and sarcasm dripping with every word I said, “Can you afford a wider range of herbs?”

“Yes, if those who are taking pay me for my services.” It was dangerous saying such things to the King and so openly, and I couldn’t help but glance at his royal guard as his jaw was clenched, the redhead next to him also throwing daggers my way. But surprisingly, the King just laughed, however, it didn’t sound genuine at all.

“Tell me, little dove, if I really hate a person, would this herb help with getting rid of them?” He cocked an eyebrow as he traced his gloved fingers delicately against a green leaf, slightly bigger than most. It was tucked almost underneath another plant, and I had missed that we had it displayed. It shouldn’t even be there; the plant was dangerous and poisonous even at the softest touch.

“Using a Dieffenbachia would lead to a painful and slow death, Your Grace.” I answered as the King grabbed the leaves with his gloved hand, a crazed grin decorating his lips.

“Nothing more entertaining than a slow and painful death, little dove.” The King whispered, dark eyes boring into mine as a harsh gust of wind blew through the market, pushing the shawl off my head, exposing my dark curls. Thankfully it was tied around my nape and it didn’t fall off my face as well, yet I didn’t miss the way the King’s eyes quickly racked over my newly exposed features.

“If you want them to choke to death, you can let them drink the tea ground from its leaves.” I found myself saying, my tone challenging, wondering where this conversation was leading to. The King bit his lower as he looked down at the leaves, chuckling to himself before placing them back down and holding only one still as he raised his hand up, directing it towards my face. I didn’t flinch away, I didn’t even blink as my eyes bore into Jeong Yunho’s, an intrigued glint in his.

“Would you eat it if your King asked you to?” His tone dropped to a low baritone as he tilted his head to the left, features becoming cold. My jaw clenched, and I fought my instincts of turning around and running away as a chuckle left my lips.

“I would like to know how I have wronged you, Your Grace, that you seem to hate me so much you want my dismay.” I raised an eyebrow, the King’s lips slowly pulling into an amused smirk, eyes widening as he tapped the leaf against the tip of my nose, making my palms ball up into fists at my sides. My heartrate had picked up, but I forced myself to remain calm. He could force it down my throat, of course, and then the whole mission would fail because of me.

“Killing people doesn’t always need to have a reason,” Everything in my screamed to break his face in half, but I just bit my lower lip underneath my shawl and tried to regulate my breaths, “I’ll spare you today, little dove. You could be a green witch instead of wasting your life away here, behind a stand, selling herbs to useless people that have no idea how to use them.”

The King placed the Dieffenbachia leaf back to where it initially was and leaned just slightly forward, his eyes searching mine. I huffed, smiling underneath my shawl sarcastically, tilting my head as I raised my eyebrows at him, “So that you’ll have a reason to kill me because I’m a green witch?”

Not that the King needed an actual reason to kill someone.

“No, I wouldn’t kill you if you were my little green witch, little dove.” His voice darkened just as his face did, eyes turning cold and lips turning into a hungry leer as his eyes took in my face, traveling lower, all over my body. I hated the possessiveness he displayed, even more so because I was his, he just didn’t know it. The scar burned on my hand, and it felt so hot that I almost subconsciously yanked my leather glove off my hand. But if I did that, he’d know, and I’d rather die than let the King know.

Just as I opened my mouth to refute such scenario, his royal guard stepped in, looking completely fed up with the exchange between the two of us as his expression was dark, very clearly fuming while the redhead stood a little behind, smirking at the silver blonde man. We made eye contact for a second, and she subtly nodded her head towards me, prompting me to avert my eyes and look at the King again.

“My King, we should get moving.” Song Mingi’s voice was gruff, low, and raspy as his sharp eyes pierced my skull, “We have what we came for.”

“No need to rush, my Mingi,” The King chuckled, grinning at his guard, “I think we should look around today, make sure everything is as it should be. That everyone respects their duties, and King.”

I smirked as the King threw me a glare, for some obscure reason letting me off the hook despite disrespecting him so clearly and constantly.

“Keep your eyes wide open, little dove,” He sneered, jaw clenching, “you might just fall prey to a big, bad, terrifying hunter.”

I bowed my head deeply in plain mockery as the King hissed, turning around and stalking towards his Friesian. To my surprise, and everyone else’s, the redhead walked up to me and tossed a pouch filled with shillings at my chest, smirking in amusement before she was headed for her own horse. Song Mingi seemed displeased and mad, his shoulder knocked against the redhead’s when they crossed paths, and as he mounted his horse, he threw me such a murderous look that it easily rivalled the King’s. And before anyone could even digest the fact that I just got paid by the King despite him not buying anything from me, the King and his royal guards took off, horses neighing and hoofs loud as they galloped away.

Despite the sun settling high up in the sky blazing down on Aurora, the mist settled upon the market never quite went away, the mood of people rather gloomy to after the King’s visit. It had been only a few hours since he had waltzed in with his royal guards, yet it felt like mere minutes. The King’s presence was everlasting and blood-curdling, you couldn’t escape it even if he wasn’t there anymore. It shouldn’t have been surprising, upon one glance, he could make anyone cower in fear, even the bravest and strongest soldier. I had gone about my day, selling and conversing amicably with other vendors while making sure I paid attention to the smallest shift in the atmosphere, so, I wasn’t too surprised to hear a spine-chilling scream cut off the conversation I was having with Mr. Chwe. After the King had left, I rushed to his side and patched him up, the cut on his cheek the only damage done to him, thankfully, and it wasn’t too deep either. Song Mingi had been lenient this time, it was rare. But I suppose the King needs its gemstone supplier alive if he plans on importing more treasures at a low, and illegal, price. What the King wanted, he got, no matter whether it was just or wrong.

Everyone froze as more shouting came from the square, and as the horns were blown, my muscles tensed and my stomach dropped. An execution would take place. The air was charged with suspense as everyone seemed to be at a standstill for a second before they started rushing towards the square, vendors leaving their stands unattended, civilians pushing each other aside to reach the square faster. I wasn’t in a rush, but when the King’s royal guards started shouting at everyone to move to the square while shoving people forward, I knew I had no choice but to actually attend the execution. Not that I had a choice, everyone had to attend these shenanigans of the King. My heart started racing as a man stood on the raised platform in the middle of the square, held by none other than Song Mingi and another guard, who was gruff and angry looking. I gulped as I made sure my shawl covered my face and hair, adjusting my leather gloves as suddenly they felt like they were slipping off my hands. My scar was itching, I knew it was just my brain making me believe that the wound was fresh again, but I couldn’t force myself to stop when my eyes fell on the King, the malicious smirk on his lips morbid. He stood at the side of the platform, looking like he had never been more entertained in his life before as the man his guards held on to was wriggling around frantically, whatever he was shouting didn’t make sense anymore.

I gulped hard as the King’s eyes surveyed the crowd, but when they moved past me, I felt myself relaxing just slightly. The crowd that had gathered around was murmuring lowly, everyone wondering the reason for this execution as there were some people pushing around others in order to get to the front. I did not understand the morbid need of humans to see such gruesome scenes that were to follow in a few minutes, but I couldn’t fight against the wave as I was shoved to the front. My jaw clenched and my hands turned into fists as a man was mumbling to himself behind me, urging the King on to kill the poor civilian.

“Residents of Aurora!” The King’s deep voice boomed over the masses, crazed eyes setting on the crowd. His cheeks were tainted red still, lips redder than they were in the morning, and his black hair seemed dishevelled, “We have gathered here to teach you a lesson, again.”

The crowd froze as the King leered at everyone, stepping up onto the platform, making the civilian scream that he wasn’t guilty, that he didn’t do anything wrong. The King walked past him, but turned sharply and threw such a hard blow against the man’s jaw that I heard something crack. The crowd gasped loudly and I exhaled sharply, trying to calm the rage that was slowly bubbling up in my bloodstream. I couldn’t act out right now, it would bring my dismay, the mission would be over before I could have even started it.

“This man here,” Jeong Yunho’s gloved hands slipped through the strands of the man’s matted hair, and he yanked the man’s head back harshly as he faced the crowd, the King’s neck and ears red from rage, “tried to take something that doesn’t belong to him.”

“Your Grace, I—”

“Silence!” Song Mingi hissed and threw a blow to the man’s gut. He would’ve toppled over if it weren’t for the two guards holding him up. The redhead had sat on the raised platform, shoulders hunched forward as her eyes watched the crowd closely, uncomfortably settling on me for a second too long. I ignored her haunting gaze, and instead looked at the King.

“Will you try and lie your way out of this, peasant?” The King hissed as his ablaze eyes snapped towards the man, who had started whimpering and shaking his head, “You tried to take my riches, peasant. The King’s possessions, more specifically.”

“I—I wasn’t, I swear—” Jeong Yunho’s face twisted into something dark and sinister as he leaned down and got all up in the poor man’s face.

“Were you really not?” The King’s voice was barely above a whisper, laced with calmness. It was frightening, the whole square went silent as the wind howled between the buildings and abandoned stands. The redhead was swinging her legs back and forth, Song Mingi’s face twisted in disgust as the man he was holding had tears streaming down his face.

“I’m sorry, Your Grace.” He averted his eyes to the ground, lips shaking. It was foolish of him trying to take the King’s ornaments, but I could understand him. He was probably so hungry that he was desperate enough to do something like this. Unfortunately, it would bring his end…or perhaps it was a blessing in disguise, a way out of Aurora forever.

“Shame your apology means nothing to me.” The King whispered, releasing the man as he walked forward to the edge of the platform, the redhead’s back straightened and she stopped swinging her legs. The King briefly glanced at her and she got off hastily, standing to the side as Song Mingi directed the smallest of smirks at her, visibly pissing the redhead off. It was slightly frightening how her height almost matched the King’s and Song Mingi’s, barely a few inches shorter than the two men. She was a powerful warrior and a strong soldier of the Royal Guard.

“There’s order in this world,” The King started, voice eerily steady as a slow grin stretched over his features, “There’s laws in this world, and they have to be respected. They will be respected as long as you all are under my watch, bevans. It’s hilarious how dumb you all are to think that you could touch something that belongs to your King, let alone try and steal it. Such behaviour will not be forgiven, and thus it will be punished accordingly.”

The King paused, licking his lips, right hand settling on the handle of the sword he had sheathed around his hips. My body was tense and my heart was beating loudly, almost so loud that I couldn’t hear the King’s words anymore. Goosebumps covered my skin everywhere, and suddenly the shawl around the lower half of my face made it hard to breathe, it felt like panic was overtaking my whole being. I felt like Jeong Yunho could see through me and I’d be the next one executed today. What if he somehow just knew that his brother sent me to assassinate him? What if the redhead and Song Mingi also knew and were only waiting for the right moment to snatch me away and kill me in the most antagonizing and slow way? My breath stuttered in my throat when the King’s eyes suddenly fell on me, as if he remembered who I was after all those years.

“Usually, severing the hand you had stolen with would do the deed,” The King tsked, dark eyes boring into mine as my right hand was burning up, “But this time it won’t be no good. I have been too lenient with my people lately; I fear you are forgetting the rules.”

The crowd muttered in discomfort as everyone hung their heads low, not wanting to be the next targeted by the King. But I couldn’t look away as Jeong Yunho smirked, narrowing his eyes challengingly at me. I would be next if I didn’t succumb to him, so, I gritted my teeth and lowered my head until the cobblestones were the only thing I could see. The King chuckled as I heard his sword being drawn.

“Good,” He leered, tapping his sword against the wooden platform, “Now, watch.”

Almost at an instant, the crowd whipped their heads up as the King walked towards his two guards, nodding once at Song Mingi as the poor man started frantically begging the King to let him off this time, that he’d serve him for the rest of his life, that he could take both hands if he wanted to. Song Mingi and the other guard holding him down suddenly forced him forward, pushing his head down onto the long table, his chin hitting the table loudly.

“No, please!” The man started shouting, trashing around, but the redhead was up on the platform in an instant, pushing his back flush against the table so that he wouldn’t move around so much, “No—no! I swear! I swear I will do anything! Please, please, be merciful Your Grace, I regret what I had done, I really do! Spear me this one time! Your Grace!”

But the King stood by the edge of the table, next to the man’s head, staring down at him with dead eyes, expression soulless. Because he didn’t have a soul, because Jeong Yunho was the Devil himself, not even trying to disguise it anymore.

“You seem to have forgotten that you are my property, bevan, and I do whatever I want to you.” The King hissed, raising his sword up high, held by both hands. My heart was beating out of my chest, and there was a collective gasp as time seemed to slow down. It wasn’t my first time seeing a beheading, and I knew it wouldn’t be my last either, but the ear-piercing shrill scream the man let out before the King’s sword came harshly down on his neck, slashing his skin, was deafening, and it made my ears ring. The sound of skin splitting open, blood gushing out, the crunching of bones, and then the hard thud of something heavy made me so nauseous that I was afraid I would throw up right then and there. My eyes were glued to the headless body that now lay limply on the table, the three guards releasing it as they stepped back. My eyes were frozen on the stray head that fell onto the platform, slowly rolling forward. It brought blood in its wake, oozing out of it, out of the headless body, his once soulful eyes now wide and unblinking, and mouth open in a silent scream. The man’s eyes were now glossed over and empty, mouth making no noise anymore, yet I could still hear his scream. My body was shaking, my mind was numb, and my right hand felt like it was slowly melting off around the scar. There was someone crying in the crowd, loudly, then there were people who were gagging. Nobody was looking at the head, nobody but me. I couldn’t look away, the rage in my bloodstream forced me to keep looking at it, to lament at the feeling, to gather it deep inside myself and channel it into every particle of my body that wanted to kill the King.

I flinched as the head fell off the platform and continued rolling towards the crowd, towards me. And despite how gruesome it looked, I couldn’t look away, I didn’t want to anymore. My body and brain weren’t working in sync anymore, my thoughts were a bit hazy as my leg raised and stepped on the left cheek of the man’s head, stopping it from rolling forward anymore. A woman next to me toppled over and threw up, everyone else gasping and rushing away from us. Everyone watched, yet nobody wanted to touch it. What was so different about it now? Weren’t we all partaking in the man’s ruthless death either way? A floorboard creaked and my head snapped up, greeted by the tall form of the King as he closed in on me, eyes burning and face covered in droplets of blood. It dripped off his chin rhythmically, soaking his black shirt underneath his gown covered in the Royal colours. The smell of iron flooded my nostrils at once, almost as if the King reeked of it himself, and a sudden dizziness hit my head. But I didn’t look away, I didn’t move. The square was dead silent as the King crouched down without breaking eye contact, he was breathing through his nose hard, jaw clenched. I kept my eyes on his as I looked down at him, left hand fisting my long skirt, brushing against the metal handle of my dagger hidden underneath my thick belt. It would’ve been so easy to kill him, but the risk of failure was too high.

Suddenly, something was yanked out from underneath my foot and it hit the ground harshly, rattling my ankle, making my eyebrows furrow as the King stood to its full height, looming over me. The smell of iron was strong, but something even stronger clashed with it, the smell of vetiver. The King’s lips were parted as he breathed through his mouth, tongue poking out to wet his lips, his chocolate brown eyes blown wide with a darkness I didn’t understand yet. He looked like a man who was crazy, ready to annihilate anything in its path. I was in his path, and he would get rid of me just for the fun of it. I didn’t even realize I had been holding my breath until the King’s eyes finally left my face, he looked over my head at the shocked crowd, holding the dead man’s head up high.

“This,” His harsh voice boomed over the silent square, “is what happens to those disobeying their King!”

I felt eyes on me, I was aware of everything around myself, but I could only stare at the King’s face as everyone else looked somewhere else. Everything was too fresh in my mind, that day when he maimed me, the day I lost my brother…it was suffocating, it was eating me up. I couldn’t breathe anymore, I needed to get air despite being out in the open square. The harsh wind wasn’t cold anymore, my body had become numb to it. My figure was trembling so hard I could hear and feel my teeth clattering against each other, my lips quivering. Yet no tears clouded my eyes, heart too stale and dry to cry anymore. There was nothing except rage and fright left in my body, and the desperate yearning for freedom. The terror wouldn’t stop as long as Jeong Yunho was alive. And when I looked up at his face again, eyes shaking in blind rage, I was surprised to find the same expression on the King’s face. He was sneering, cheeks red and nose flaring as he glared me down, his hand holding the head shook. He wanted all of us dead, and all of us wanted him dead.

My hand tightened around the handle of the dagger, and if I closed my eyes, I could everything play out in front of me. All I had to do was yank the dagger out from underneath my belt, grab onto the King’s gown and yank him closer to myself, pull him down so that we’d be eye-level so that I’d stare into his eyes full of hatred while I plunge the dagger deep inside his neck, cutting his artery. Blood would gush out, spraying on me, coating me in his royal blood, one that was red instead of blue and tasted of iron, just like of the man’s he’s killed. I wanted to stare him in his dark eyes as the life left his, wanted to hear him gargle on his own warm blood, wanted to hear his gasp for air helplessly as everyone watched him fight for his stupidly mortal life. I wanted him to suffer, to feel like everyone he’s ever hurt or killed. I wanted him to shake in terror as his life slipped away from him without him being able to do anything about it. I wanted him to beg to be speared, to be saved, to be forgiven. I wanted him to crumble at my feet and clutch at my legs, grip loosening the harder he fought to stay alive. What a stupid mortal this King was.

Powerless, defenceless, helpless.

“Scatter around everyone!” Song Mingi’s harsh and raspy voice boomed through the square, sharp eyes frightening everyone away, “Go back to your stands!”

There was a promise in the King’s eyes before he turned and threw the head onto the platform, some men from the pub rushing over to clear the platform. And I was walking away stiffly, hand still clutching my dagger as I tried to ignore the painful itch of my scar. It felt like daggers were thrown towards me, and I didn’t have to look back to see the King, the redhead, and Song Mingi stare at my retreating form. I didn’t have to look back because I knew I had made myself the King’s target, a price on my head if I were to misbehave even in the slightest bit. And I didn’t have to see or hear the King as his lips moved, words hushed as he instructed his trusted royal guard to keep an eye on me, suspicious of my identity and intentions.

Once the devil catches you, you can’t escape its clutches ever again. He holds you down, robs you of your soul and sucks the life out of you until you’re nothing but a shell of what you once used to be. He sucks you dry of your life essence; he robs you of the light in your eyes, of the love harboured inside of you, of all of your joy, of the will to continue living. And once he’s done with you, he leaves you alone in this world to rot away, to suffer, to cry, to hate, until your heart is nothing but a rotten fruit. A damned fruit.

Forbidden, tempting, dangerous.

If famish wasn’t such a strong state of mind, so strong that it consumes your thoughts in its entirety, the damned fruit would’ve remained untouched. But when famish mingles with fear and pain, it leaves you desperate enough to go to lengths that you know once caught would make you suffer.

There was nobody but myself to blame as I was veered inside the cold Throne Room, heart pounding and eyes tear filled as people moaned and groaned in pain, a line consisting of five people in front of me. The grip on my right arm was so painful and so tight that it probably had already cut off my blood flow, and I couldn’t fight it off. I was frail and small, a man twice my size and height could easily do whatever to me. And yet, despite knowing that I might not see another sunrise, all I could think about was my sickly brother laying in his bed, struggling to breathe while hungry. I had almost made it outside the market when I heard someone chase after me, shouting as they closed in on me. Somebody saw me take the damn apple, and they snitched to the Royal Guard, to Song Mingi. All I wanted was to feed my sick brother, to prolong his time in this world and fulfil one wish of his. He just wanted to eat an apple.

My body trembled as the lady at the front of the line wailed in pain, choking on her own screams as the smell of burnt skin was horrid in the room, bringing acid into my throat. I was nauseous, I felt like passing out. I tried to yank my arm free again and bolt out of the Throne Room, but the guard holding me just hissed and yanked me forward as the sobbing woman was dragged away, hand cradled to her chest. I couldn’t look, I was too afraid. I knew what would happen to me, everybody knew what would happen to them if they dared steal, but I didn’t want to accept it yet. I just couldn’t. If the King branded you, you were his for eternity.

The Devil would find you in his next life, and he would claim you again as his. He would make you suffer; he would torture you and laugh while you beg for forgiveness.

I jumped as a man at the front started begging loudly, falling to his knees as his arm was forced onto the marble table, the fireplace blazing the closer we got to it. There were only three more people in front of me. The man started crying, trying to free himself, but the King’s laughter echoed in the vast Throne Room, and then the man’s scream was so loud it made my ears ring. I fought against the grip on myself again, breathing getting shallow as my heart was beating so fast, I thought I would die from heart failure before the sizzling metal rod could even touch my skin.

“Stop whimpering, you stupid bitch.” The tall man holding me hissed, sharp eyes boring into mine as he loomed over me with his lanky form. He was frightening, he was the Devil’s right hand, he was his Beelzebub. It felt like the room was closing in on me despite its grandiose size, like it was about to swallow me whole as perspiration gathered on my brows, slowly dripping down my temples. I couldn’t breathe when another man was maimed, marked for life, screams echoing in the vast chamber. My captor just smirked as the fear I felt reflected off my face, pulling me closer towards my tormentor. I wanted to run away, I wanted to save myself, I needed to return to my brother, but I wasn’t strong enough.

The King’s face was twisted in a sick expression as he pressed the metal rod into another man’s hand, his victim having long fainted. The man lay limply on the floor when the guard holding him up released him, and the King kicked him, but the man didn’t budge. The King’s jaw clenched and he groaned, looking at the guard who had held the man as if he was exasperated by his incompetence.

“Take this scum away, you fool!” He hissed, dark eyes settling on his guard as he bared his teeth at him. The King was even scarier in person, from up close, in the Throne Room. His red cheeks and burgundy tainted lips could’ve fooled anyone who didn’t know him. Why did a Devil like him have such soft features when all he did was hurt and hurt others, terrorize them and make them wish they were never born? Why was someone with an Angel face a creature so dark everyone feared its name and existence? My body shook uncontrollably as I realized I was next in line. Time stood still for a second, everything disappearing around me as my ears rung and eyes saw white only. And then, as my captor tugged on my arm, everything hit me at full force.

My rapid heartbeat, the thumping of my head, the desperation crawling up my throat, the need to save myself, I had to get out. I had to return to my brother, he just wanted an apple. Why was life unfair? Almost as if awoken from a dormant sleep, adrenaline kicked hard through my system, flooding my whole being like I didn’t know it was even possible. My lungs expanded and muscles tensed, and when Song Mingi tugged on my arm again, barely three steps away from the marble table, I jumped. I jumped and I kicked at the man’s chest, scratching his neck and making him yelp in pain. Yet he never released me, but I wasn’t giving up. I had to save myself, nobody else would do it for me. And so, I kicked when I was hoisted up by my waist, I screamed at the top of my lungs, I even punched whoever dared touch me. But as if I weighted nothing, I was thrown on the marble table, back hitting it hard, head crushing into the cold table. I gasped, vision fuzzy for a second, until a dark and sinister laugh snapped me back to reality. I froze when I realized I was being held down against the table by Song Mingi, expression so dark I would’ve recoiled if I could’ve. His jaw was clenched and his gaze was so sharp it could’ve cut me if it were possible. But the King, Jeong Yunho, he was calm. He looked the opposite of what his Royal Guard looked like, and something dropped deep in my stomach.

The King looked entertained by the fight I was putting up; he was enjoying it. My lower lip quivered as a hand decorated with rings, metal ornaments, reached out and lightly traced my bottom lip. I couldn’t breathe as my eyes were captivated by Jeong Yunho’s dark ones, pupils dilated as he sneered, a crazed look crossing his features as I gasped for air, trying to catch my breath. The King gripped my jaw tightly, so tightly that I thought he’d break it in two, but what was even more painful were the sharp ends of his rings cutting into my skin. I whimpered as I tried to pull my head away, but I was immobilised by Song Mingi, who was smirking as he watched the exchange.

“Oh, little dove,” The King whispered as his eyebrows furrowed, mock concern crossing his features, “Look at how frightened she is, My Mingi.”

The royal guard’s eyes turned even darker, a predatory look crossing his features as he chuckled, hold on me tightening just a little more as my body started shaking more violently, breathing loud as I breathed through my nose. The King’s smirk matched his guard’s, and he released a long sigh, making me whimper when he dug his sharp claws more into my skin, something hot prickling down my jaw and my neck, disappearing underneath the neckline of my black dress. The King’s eyes followed the drop of blood, and he closed his eyes for a second as he took a deep breath. When he opened his eyes again, a look so evil was present in his eyes that I shook my head at him involuntarily, begging him wordlessly to spare me, to let me go just this time.

“Oh, little dove,” The King whispered, pursing his blood red lips, suddenly releasing my jaw as he grabbed something. My heart raced faster than before, if that were even possible, and I shook my head as I felt sobs bubbling up my throat.

“Please, please, please,” My voice was hoarse and shaky, my mouth struggled to form the words I so desperately tried to speak, “My brother is sick, please.”

“You know the rules, little dove.” There was almost something like sadness tinging Jeong Yunho’s voice as his mouth pulled to the side, eyes staring off into the blazing fire. My jaw clenched as I looked at what he was holding, and my stomach coiled in even more fear. I couldn’t let this happen, I just couldn’t.

“Let me go, I promise I will never do it again, Your Grace.” I begged, hoping that I could get to him somehow, but the King just hummed as if he wasn’t truly listening to me. I was terrified, but I couldn’t help but feel wronged. If the King provided us with everything we needed, with sufficient food, then we wouldn’t have to go out and steal as a means of survival. He was the one forcing us into doing these things, and yet he was the one punishing us for something he would never change. It was unfair, and I couldn’t help but soak in the sudden anger that flared through my body, making me fight against the royal guard as he pinned my right against the marble table, holding me down by my shoulders with his other hand.

“Why should I pay for something I’m forced to do because you have never once helped your people, Your Grace?” I snapped, glaring at the side of the King’s head. He didn’t react, and I couldn’t remain silent anymore, “Why are you punishing me when you’re the one forcing us to live in poverty and famish, My King?”

I winced when Song Mingi’s elbow dug into my shoulder painfully, but I didn’t stop glaring up at the King as he looked borderline bored, uninterested in what I had to say.

“My brother is dying because of you!” I screamed, losing my sanity as the King didn’t react, only chuckled quietly, “My brother is dying because you took away everything from us and forced us into the slums. My brother is dying because you hold people in such terror that not even an apple can be gifted anymore. I stole that apple, because nobody would give it to me anymore out of kindness. While King Choi was alive, the Kingdom was flourishing. Everyone was happy and content, everyone enjoyed life. You—you are no King, Jeong Yunho—”

“Shut up, wench!” Song Mingi’s face was suddenly looming over mine as he screamed in my face, his whole face red and enraged as I stared back at him wide eyed. My heart was racing and I started trashing around violently, trying to fight the guard off again, but to no avail.

“My Mingi,” The King’s voice was light and soft, head turning to glance down at us, “don’t rile yourself up over the words of a poor peasant.”

“But—My King, she’s—” The guard looked shocked as he stared at the King wide eyed, seemingly confused.

“A stupid, confused, little girl,” The King chuckled, looking down at me with pity on his face that made me sick to my stomach, “she doesn’t know better. Perhaps this will teach her a lesson for once and for all.”

My eyes widened when the King’s hand moved, the sizzling hot rod pulled out of the fire, getting closer and closer to my body as the King moved agonizingly slow, taunting me by the large grin on his face. I whimpered and bit my lower lip, aware that Song Mingi was holding me even firmer than before, jaw set tight as his eyes were glued onto the King.

“No—” I stuttered, gasping for air as the King lightly grazed my hand with his gloved hand, “No! Don’t—don’t touch me!”

A serene smile appeared on his lips, looking into my eyes with a look that made me feel like a small child who had misbehaved and was now getting lectured for it. My eyebrows furrowed as I tried to wriggle myself free, trashing my legs around and trying to push Song Mingi off myself, but his strength was incredible, and I was too frail to even as much as make him budge, “Let go of me! I didn’t do anything wrong! Don’t touch me!”

My throat hurt from my screams, but I wouldn’t give up. I would never, I had to get back to my brother. I couldn’t let that iron rod touch my skin; I’d be the King’s forever. I couldn’t let the Devil bound me to himself, I just couldn’t. I’d never be free again, I’d never be able to leave Aurora, “Now, if you stop throwing a fuss it’ll hurt less, little dove—”

The saliva that had gathered in my mouth landed on the King’s cheek as I spat at him, nose flared and eyes wide in rage and fear as my lungs heaved for air, “You’ll burn in the depths of Hell for—”

The iron grip around my throat rendered me speechless in seconds, before I could finish my curse. My eyes bulged as I clawed at the large hand wrapped around my neck with my left hand, Song Mingi’s grip the last thing I’d feel before I’d meet my death. The King just watched us, he didn’t blink, he didn’t react. His lips twitched, but he said nothing as my spit slowly dripped down his cheek, “My Mingi.”

And before I could even wrap my mind around the sudden oxygen rush in my lungs, a searing pain shot through the top of my right hand, so hot and so painful that a scream was instantly ripped from my hoarse throat. My back arched and fingers scraped at nothing as my right arm was still held down by the guard, the King’s eyes boring onto my face as he watched me frail around in excruciating pain. The smell of burnt flesh was disgusting and it made me gag knowing that it was my own flesh burning, branded by the Crown’s emblem for life. My vision went white for a second as the rod was still burning into my flesh, it felt like it would go through my hand at any given moment, creating a gaping hole in it. I heaved for air as I couldn’t scream anymore, body shaking in shock as suddenly the King smirked, yanking the rod off my hand. A loud sob ripped through my body, right hand shaking so badly that it felt like it was an alien limb, not controlled by my own body. The restricting hands were gone from my body, and I was afraid to look at the damage done. I was on the brink of passing out and throwing up at the same time, when suddenly the King’s gloved hand was in the air, and the next second it was connected to my cheek, sending my head flying to the side. The slap echoed in the vast room, and my sobs instantly stilled as my curly hair fell over my face, shielding it from the eyes of the two tyrants. My body stilled, yet my right hand never stopped shaking. The pain was searing, pulsing, traveling from my hand up to my wrist and my whole arm, making me grit my teeth as I tried not to cry out. It hurt so badly that it made me want to claw at the scorched skin.

“You’re mine, little dove,” The King’s dark words were whispered in my ear, voice deep, “and if you try to run, I will find you, and I will kill you with my own hands.”

“Burn in hell.” I managed to grit out through my teeth, throat feeling like sandpaper. The King chuckled; sound high pitched as I heard the metal rod being thrown onto the marble floor of the Throne Room.

“She’s a handful, My Mingi,” The King mused, and I felt a gloved hand grip my right thigh as I was veered off the table. I managed to sit up last minute and save myself from tumbling onto the floor, “Take her to the dungeons, let’s teach her another lesson for being disobedient and trying to curse her King.”

My eyes widened, desperation clawing at my bones as I tried to push the guard off, but he just grabbed my arms and tied them behind my back before I could even as much as protest. My head was spinning and it was a little hard to realize what exactly was happening, the pain coming from my hand the only thing I could focus on as Song Mingi made me walk, veering me towards some stone stairs at the back of the Throne Room. Yet, I was aware that I needed to go back to my brother.

“No, no, no—my brother—” A sob cut me off as I tried to plead with Song Mingi, but he wasn’t looking at me anymore, expression stone cold as I cried harder, “He’ll die, please!”

I was yanked back by my hair and forced to stop as Song Mingi breathed hard through his nose, eyes burning as he glared at me sharply, “I do not understand why My King spared you, but if you won’t shut your fucking mouth, I will gut you right here and right now. Then, you’ll join your brother you keep wailing for in Eden.”

I gasped as I shoot up, clutching at my chest and right hand shaking from the dull ache coursing through it, sweat covering my face and neck. My heart was beating frantically as I gasped for air, eyes searching my surroundings wildly. It was dark around me, but the moonlight shone through the opened curtains. The little candle I had lit before going to bed had burned out, and the sturdy wood of my bed made my back ache. I was safe. I was in laying in my bed, in my pathetic excuse of a cottage, far away from the Castle and the Throne Room. I tried taking deep breaths, tried slowing my heartbeats, tried to reason with myself that all of that was just a dream. But it wasn’t, it was a reoccurring nightmare of that cursed day. It made me miss my brother even terribly more, and as my eyes shifted towards the small dresser I had across from my bed, my eyes landed on the sketch of the King given to me by Sir Jung. Fury flamed inside my chest as my left hand slipped underneath my cold pillow, and in a swift movement, I pulled my dagger out from underneath and flung it at the sketch as a scream ripped through my lips. Jeong Yunho will pay for everything he’s done.

It had been two weeks since the beheading in the square, two weeks of me spying on the King to my best capacities. It wasn’t easy to remain unseen, but I managed to sneak by his Royal Guards just fine each time. Song Mingi and the redhead weren’t as attentive as they thought they were. Perhaps the King wouldn’t sleep so well at night knowing that his most trusted guards were incapable of sensing danger and noticing the littlest changes around themselves.

The King’s schedule was quite simple and easy. He left the Castle grounds early in the morning to go on a hunt in the forest surrounding his estate, then he’d go down to the market and parade down the wealthier parts of Aurora. It wasn’t too often that he went anywhere else but straight back to the Castle once he was done agonizing his people in the streets, however, he had gone once or twice dangerously close to the mansion Prince Choi and Sir Jung inhibited now. There was also a time when the King was headed to the slums, to a shop famous for its otherworldly businesses, meaning witchcraft. The King wasn’t opposed to it as long as the witches served him, and him alone. Anyone who dared use their knowledge against the King would be burned on a rug, in the square. There had been witch hunts before, they used to be more frequent while King Choi was the ruler as he was opposed to anything that dealt with darkness, however, Jeong Yunho wasn’t like that. He embraced the dark and he craved the power that came with it, a false sense of immortality laying within him. It only took me two days to realize that the King was plotting something, something that was kept hush-hush and a secret from even his two most trusted guards. The King had let them go back to the Castle one afternoon and then he galloped out of Aurora, only returning the next day. I couldn’t go after him, and curiosity ate me up when the next day the King had gone to the same witchcraft shop, staying in there for hours, looking pale and almost ghostly by the time he finally left the shop. If it weren’t for Song Mingi, who was at an instant by the King’s side, he would’ve crumbled to floor and fainted. The King was doing something very highly illicit, and I needed to find out just what. Both for my own sake, but also to help Prince Choi and Sir Jung in taking the Crown from Jeong Yunho.

Tonight hadn’t been different from the King’s daily shenanigans, however, for a change, the King had gone to a run-down pub, located a little bit too close to the slums. He was joined by his two loyal guards, Song Mingi and the redhead. They wore long black gowns to hide their identities as they slipped past the dark shadows coating the streets, the lamplighters not bothering to light the candles in this part of Aurora. Of course, that did not come as a surprise. The only adequately lit parts of our burgh were the market and square, where the royal guards would march around to check if the lamplighters were indeed doing their duties. Nobody cared about those suffering outside of the richer parts of Aurora, nobody cared about people like me.

I pressed closer against the cold brick wall of a rickety hut, barely holding itself up. Many houses looked like that in the area, and it was a truly saddening sight, especially when families with lots of children were forced to live in such conditions due to the King taking everything from them, leaving them to the rats. I tried not to think of those people, it made me remember my brother, and tonight I had to focus. I needed to get closer to the pub somehow, to gain more intel on whatever was going on inside, of what the King was up to once again. But by the time I gathered my courage and came up with a flawed plan, the door to the pub was kicked open and a drunk man stumbled outside, followed by two tall gowned figures. The drunk man was loudly whistling and he stumbled on a misplaced cobblestone, roughly crashing into the side of the pub. He howled in pain, but I paid him no mind as the tall figures turned the opposite way of the drunken man had started tumbling towards, and started walking. Their pace was fast, almost as if they were trying to get away from something.

I took a deep breath and remaining in the shadows, I crept after them, eyes fixated on their tall figures. I kept a few good meters between us, and I made sure to keep my footsteps light, so that they wouldn’t accidentally hear me. The sky was clear for once, and the moonlight was your only guide through the dark streets. For once, I was grateful that the lamplighters didn’t perform to their full capacity and left the slums unattended, making my job so much easier right now. I tried to decipher who was who, but the King and his Guard’s similarity in physique was a scary realization. Perhaps Song Mingi’s shoulders were wider and stance firmer, but I couldn’t say for sure. Especially when their strides seemingly were the same. I couldn’t tell the King and his Guard apart from behind, and I felt anxiety crawl up my throat as I prayed to God that the two wouldn’t separate.

The long street we had been walking down came to a crossroads soon. Going to the left would lead you back to the prettier and cleaner district of Aurora, however, turning right would take you towards the dense and haunting forest, towards the mansion Prince Choi and Sir Jung inhabited. As the two men took a left turn, I came to the alarming realization that the redhead was seemingly nowhere, and she had arrived with them to the pub. Could she have stayed back? Had the two men gotten rid of her? That sounded absurd, everybody knew those in the Royal Guard gave their lives to the King, and the redhead was one of his most devoted soldier, she surely wouldn’t have committed treason against someone she so blindly worshipped. But then where was she? My heart was thumping wildly in my chest as I had started glancing behind myself, paranoid that I was also being followed, probably by the redhead. If they were to catch me now, I would most certainly die as they outnumbered and outpowered me easily. I might have gotten stronger over the past years, but I still remained with a smaller built. And I was no warrior, I lacked the skills they have mastered a long time ago.

The streets turned narrow once again as we got closer and closer to the richer area, cottages in better conditions littering both sides of the street. There were very few candles still alight in the houses, and I had to be more careful as the candle lighting of the streets was better in this area. I pulled the shawl tighter around my face, and made myself smaller as the two men continued walking, but faster than before. I had to run, almost, to keep up with them. My breaths left my mouth in short puffs and as the two men rounded the corner, the main street leading them back to the Castle, I followed suit. However, I almost yelped as I crashed against a hard body, sending me backwards. I instantly panicked, eyes wide in fear as my left hand went to grab my dagger, but the man that I had stumbled into was neither the King nor Song Mingi. It was just a drunken civilian, looking borderline sick. His eyes were squinted and as he tried leaning closer to get a better look at my face, I grabbed his head and pushed him to the side, making him stumble. If I wouldn’t have caught his arm quickly, he would’ve stumbled to the hard cobblestone covered road. I have underestimated his state, and I took pity on him as he looked confused.

“Go home, old man, it isn’t safe out here.” I snapped at him; eyes boring into his. The man just blinked and then nodded once, clumsily taking off again, stumbling into every possible bench and bush he could. I shook my head and quickly rounded the corner, hoping that the distraction wasn’t long enough to make me lose my targets. But, to my misfortune, there was only one tall figure walking down the long street, their pace a lot slower this time. I gulped and pulled the neckline of my own gown tighter around my shoulders, heart beating fast as I hoped the man I was following was indeed the King himself, and not Song Mingi. But I couldn’t be sure, and I was helpless as I followed after him. He was a little ahead, a few good steps, and I refrained from closing the gap again, hesitant to give away my presence just yet. If it wasn’t the King, then I had no reason to follow his Guard, he was of no use to me. My eyebrows furrowed when the tall man took a right turn, going down a street that wasn’t leading towards the Castle anymore. What had they planned? Looking behind myself, left and right too, I made sure I wasn’t followed as I quickly ran down the rest of the street before rounding the same corner the man had, gripping the handle of my dagger. It was a narrow backstreet that connected to a dirt road which led down to a small field if you continued walking left, however, it met with another even shorter path, which was a dead-end behind a fancy Inn. The man continued walking, pace once again hurried, until suddenly a black shadow leaped from the side of a building, knocking the tall man into the narrow dead-end. My eyes widened as I froze in the middle of the street, heart pounding in my chest. What was happening? I should’ve turned around and left, but I had to know whether it was the King or Song Mingi getting attacked in the middle of the night. And so, I pressed myself against the brick wall of the Inn and crept to the edge of the building, peeking my head around the corner, just barely.

The unmistakable silver blonde hair was glinting underneath the moonlight as the hood of Song Mingi’s gown had fallen down, and I hissed in displeasure. I had been fooled. I wasn’t following the King, but Song Mingi. So where had the King gone then? What was he up to again? Or was Song Mingi just getting frisky behind an Inn after a night spent at a pub getting drunk? My question was quickly answered as a hard blow was thrown against the guard’s jaw, sending his head in the opposite direction. The guard hissed and suddenly sprung forward, hand wrapping around the throat of his attacker. But the attacker was quick to fight back, and the person’s nails dug into Song Mingi’s wrist until he was forced to release his attacker. The person grabbed the collar of his gown and pinned him against the wall, face leaning dangerously close to Song Mingi’s. The height difference was minimal between the two, and my eyes widened as the person’s hood slipped from her head, revealing her red hair. What were Jeong Yunho’s royal guards doing in a dead-end, mauling each other around?

“You complete scum!” The redhead’s voice was shaky, laced with venom, “How dare you go to our King and say such lies about me?!”

Song Mingi remained unmoving, finally having given up fighting the redhead. Instead, he leaned his head against the tall cement fence he was pressed up against, and smirked.

“I see My King has let you know about the little change that’s happened.” I watched as the redhead’s grip tightened even more around Song Mingi’s gown.

“I was supposed to go on that mission, Mingi.” The redhead pressed; tone hard.

“And now it’s me going, foxy.” Song Mingi chuckled in amusement, and I heard the redhead let out a frustrated yelp. I pressed myself against the brick wall, turning away from the scene. I could hear the two guards throwing insults at each other, their voices gradually getting louder, but I wasn’t interested in their quarrel. I was here for the King, and I had lost him. Now I wouldn’t know if he was headed back to the Castle or off to doing something unlawful again.

I sighed and rubbed my eyes for a second, gathering my thoughts and energy to head back to the slums, to my pathetic excuse of a hut. The air was chilly again, and I was thankful for the thick gown Prince Choi had sent me three days ago, a small note saying to ‘dress up well, it’s getting colder day by day’ placed on top of the heavy garment. I was thankful, and more than grateful for the gift sent by the Prince. I had nothing to repay him with, but perhaps getting rid of the King was the biggest treasure I could offer to the Prince right now.

I was headed down the short alleyway I had just followed Song Mingi down, meaning to go back onto the main street and then head back home. However, before I could even round the corner fully, gloved fingers curled into the fabric of my expensive gown and yanked me around the corner, throwing me against the bricked wall. I gasped as the wind was knocked out of my lungs, head hitting the wall loudly, making me groan as it shook my skull. As I tried to regain my bearings, I felt the gloved hand slip up towards my throat, long fingers wrapping around my throat and squeezing. I froze, left hand shooting up to hold onto my attacker’s wrist as my eyes finally cleared and were able to focus on the one holding me. And it was none other than Jeong Yunho, the King himself. His jaw was clenched and his eyes were mere slits as he glared down at me, towering over me due to his great height. The pressure around my neck grew stronger and I gasped for air, eyes widening just a little, trying to control the panic raising in my whole being. Being immobilised by the King felt too familiar, I couldn’t help but respond with panic as memories of the day I had been marked by him tried to resurface, remind me of the pain I had felt under his hands.

“What do you want?” The King hissed, lowering his head until he was eye level with me. I tried to gulp, but it was hard. My grip tightened around the King’s wrist, nails digging into his leather glove. I didn’t answer him, and even if I would’ve tried to, the way his hold was tightening stopped me from doing so.

“Who are you, peasant?” The King snapped and leaned even closer; eyebrows furrowed as his eyes travelled all over my face. He wasn’t able to see much of my features, but I knew he could see my eyes just well, and so I glared at him. My heart was racing and I tried to push his hand off, but it only made him squeeze tighter. My lungs started burning, the King was slowly choking me, antagonizing me even now.

“Speak up, wench.” It seemed he had realized I was a woman, disgust coating his features as his hot breath fanned over my cheeks. I grit my teeth and tried to push the King backwards, but he wasn’t budging. Dark sports started covering my vision, and I tried not to gasp for air, refusing to show weakness in front of him again. But as his right hand raised, the sharp edges of his ornaments grazing against the little exposed skin I had, I knew I had to do something. His ring clad fingers gripped at the shawl and my eyes widened more as I realized he was about to yank it off my face. I couldn’t let him see me; it would compromise the whole mission. In my panicked state, I did the next best thing I could that came to mind. I turned my head and bit his exposed right hand, biting through the material of my shawl. It probably wasn’t as painful as it would have been if my shawl wasn’t in the way of my teeth, but the King still hissed and ripped his right hand back, looking surprised. It allowed me little momentum to shake his grip off my neck too as it had loosened, and I lived with the opportunity, grabbing his arm and yanking it off myself. Before the King could fight back, I sprung forward and pushed at his strong chest, making him stumble back a few steps as he didn’t expect my attack.

“Who sent you, little dove?” He leered, eyes ablaze as a smirk slowly slipped onto his lips, looking like he had no intention of holding me again. Yet, he took two steps towards me, watching me like a predator watches its prey. I gulped, suddenly feeling helpless, just like the day I had been held down against the marble table, marked and maimed. I felt like that little girl again as my hands started shaking and mind got clouded with memories, making it harder to breathe through the shawl. The pain I had felt that day suddenly felt too vivid, too real, as my right hand burned, the Crown’s emblem forever burned in my skin. All the King had to do was yank my glove down and see for himself. He would’ve taken me back to the Castle and killed me, or worse, tortured me until he became bored of me.

“If you don’t speak now, I’ll kill you.” The King said in a light tone, smile spreading into a wide grin as his eyes glossed over with darkness. I gulped and steeled my nerves, reminding myself that I wasn’t that defenceless little girl anymore. I wouldn’t sit around and mop as I wait for Death to take me away. I have become stronger, both physically and mentally, and I had a mission. A mission which placed the fate of the Kingdom of the Fallen in my hands.

“You’ll kill me even if I speak.” I hissed, glaring at the King as he started laughing. There was nothing amusing about what I said, it was the mere truth. And as he extended his ring decorated hand towards my face again, I pulled my right arm back and swung it towards the King’s cheek with all the force I could muster. I was breathing hard as my gloved hand made contact with the King’s cheek, and I’ve never felt anymore more satisfying than having the King’s head snap to the side as my fist connected with his red tinged cheek. The night was quiet and my punch was loud. My heart was racing as a huge grin spread onto my lips, a grin the King couldn’t see and wouldn’t see as I suddenly took off, sprinting away. I was fast, but I knew they would catch up with me sooner than later, so, upon spotting vines coming down the side of a smaller cottage, I gripped onto them and climbed the wall as fast as I could. My heart was racing as I took off running again, hopping from roof to roof, praying that it wouldn’t give out underneath me as some felt a little too loose. I was also praying that the roof tiles wouldn’t slip underneath my weight, sending me tumbling to the cold and dirty ground.

I could hear the King and his two loyal guards chase after me, but it seemed like neither could climb onto the cottages, offering me the little advantage I needed to get away tonight. And knowing that I managed to instill even a little pain in the King would help me sleep better tonight.

Tonight had to have been the most nerve wrecking night of my whole life as I walked past the tall guards at the heavy front doors of the Castle. The air was warm as I stepped further inside the vast hallway, scenery way too familiar. I tried to remain calm and collected as a butler stepped closer, an inviting and warm smile on his lips, as he helped me slip out of my expensive fur coat. The dark brown fabric reached down to my ankles, shielding me completely from the biting chill the late autumn wind brought with itself. My heart felt like it would leap out of my chest anytime now as I clutched the white envelope tightly in my hands, the stamp of the Crown a blood red, asking for attention against the snow-white paper. I forced a small smile onto my lips as I followed the crowd towards the ballroom, gut twisting as we were ushered past the Throne Room, a room that had witnessed so much horror ever since Jeong Yunho had become King.

Despite completely fitting in with the rich crowd surrounding me, curtesy of Prince Choi, I still felt like everyone could spot that I didn’t actually belong here. The fabric of my white dress was soft against my pale skin, the best I had ever had the chance to wear, and it fell loosely around my body. There wasn’t anything too eye catching or special about the dress Prince Choi had sent for this specific occasion, and that was the purpose. I was supposed to blend in with the rich crowd and lure the King away from the masses, where I would make sure he’d never again see tomorrow’s sunrise. It wasn’t an easy task, but tonight was the perfect timing. There wouldn’t be another one like this anytime soon as these balls were organized on full moon’s only by the King, whispers about a ritual practiced by him resurfacing every time the ball took place.

The top of my dress was low-cut and it made me feel uncomfortable for exposing so much of my skin, the tops of my breasts quite visible to anyone who looked my way, the slit in the ruffles of the skirt at least decent enough that it didn’t reach too high. The straps around my shoulders were puffy but delicate, the prettiest V line I had seen a dress have so far. Thankfully, the design of the expensive dress allowed to match gloves with it, and so, I was delighted when I saw the matching white silky gloves placed at the bottom of the box this dress had arrived in. The gloves were delicate and soft, a little cold when I have tried them on, and reached just above my elbows, the rest of my arms exposed. It was warm inside the ballroom; therefore, I didn’t worry that I would catch a cold accidentally. I have smoothed down my hair, the long curls reaching down the middle of my back, and kept it minimal when applying a little beauty enhancer to my face. The blush on my cheeks was artificial and so was the glitter on top of my eyelids, and the redness of my lips. I couldn’t do much about my pale complexion, and could only hope that the rich people wouldn’t think that I looked sick. The goal was to catch the King’s eye tonight.

When I had finally reached the top of the stairs that would lead down to the ballroom, further inside the lively chamber, a man dressed elegantly smiled widely and extended his hand towards me. I could only hope he wouldn’t pay enough attention to notice the nervousness on my face as I handed the envelope to him, watching as he delicately opened it. Inside it, there was a letter addressed to a respective Bae Joohyun, who happened to be fourth cousins with the King and the Prince. I found the idea crazy, to come to such an event under the pretence of being someone else and someone so close to the Royal family, but Prince San had assured me that they hadn’t seen their little cousin since they were five, and so, the King wouldn’t know what she looked like now. The pretence was perfect in the Prince’s head as he said my looks fit exactly that of their cousin: pale, petite, black haired, and dark eyed. Apparently, she was beautiful beyond comprehension, and I oozed a tenderness their cousin also had. I didn’t dare refute the Prince’s claims and just thanked him for helping me out once again. After all, if he wanted my mission to be a success, he had to play his part from the shadows.

“Miss Bae Joohyun, first of her name, eldest princess and head huntress of the burgh of La Rouge.” The man announced loudly to the ballroom as he read off my fake title from the invitation, and I tried to keep an amicable smile on my lips as a servant quickly rushed to my side, helping me down the marble set of stairs. It felt like everyone was staring at me in the room, which they were, and I tried to slow my heartbeat with deeps breaths in order to keep myself from fainting. I couldn’t even blame it on the restricting dress as I didn’t wear a corset, unlike many of the ladies present here tonight. It made me feel out of place, but trusting Prince San’s words, the actual Bae Joohyun wouldn’t have shown up in a restricting and puffed-up dress. She was a free spirit and often times went against the rules in order to live her life the way she wanted. Her parents weren’t too keen of her attitude and the choices she had made so far in her life, but they’d rather keep her close and not her younger sister, who apparently was a rascal and everyone’s nightmare in the burgh of La Rouge. The burgh resided on the other side of the Kingdom of the Fallen and was a lot more lenient compared to Aurora, that is, until King Jeong manages to expand his believes that far out, poisoning the innocent people of La Rouge, like he had done to us in Aurora.

And just like that, the night seemed to go on uneventfully, besides the unwanted attention men, and women alike, seemed to offer me. I wasn’t looking for anyone’s company, but I knew if I kept to myself, hidden in a corner, I would get nothing done tonight, and I couldn’t let that happen. I had to raise attention onto myself if I wanted the King to find me appealing, and that was only achievable if I was surrounded by men who made me laugh loudly, even if it was forced often times. I had managed to come closer to the King more than once, but so it seemed he was too busy staring down the cleavage of the dress of whatever lady he had been talking to at the moment, clearly uninterested in whatever they had to say. His loyal dogs were around too, of course, both dressed to the nines as they surveyed the crowd, mingling with the people at times. Song Mingi remained close to the King, however, but wasn’t breathing down his neck like usual, his outfit a lot more casual than one was used to seeing him wear. His body was littered with accessories, and I accidentally had caught sight of the redhead ripping the silver chain off as it hung around the man’s narrow waist over the tight vest Song Mingi was wearing. A heated exchange between the two seemed to happen afterwards, with the taller guard backing the redhead against a pillar, sneering into her face, until the King showed up and merely tapped the two on the shoulder before walking away, beaming at a blonde woman with a dark look in his eyes.

The longer I watched the King, the angrier I became that nobody could see through his obvious façade, of the fakeness in his laughter and smiles, that they couldn’t see his eyes darkening and a sick twist crossing his features any time someone said something he didn’t enjoy. Everyone remained oblivious to his so obvious show of dominance whenever a man managed to capture the attention of those around themselves. It was pathetic really, how badly the King needed to have all the attention in the big room on himself, yearning for the praises and ass-licking these rich people were doing. It was sickening and so infuriating as I watched him throw his head back in delight, laughter melodic but loud enough to have others glancing his way, flocking towards the small group, because it was the King. And if the King found something hilarious and worth his time, everyone else wanted to know what it was about, striving to capture his attention like that. My jaw was clenched as I watched another woman wander towards him, looking abashed when the King so much as glanced her way in passing, batting her eyelashes at him. I couldn’t even fathom the thought of wanting the King’s attention purposefully, not when so much blood lay on his hands, so much terror and horror committed under his reign, under his command.

I nursed a tall glass of champagne in my hands as I surveyed the crowd, searching for Song Mingi and the redhead, finding them in different parts of the ballroom, both seemingly busy with the people they were respectively talking to. The King, however, happened to be closer to me as he was talking to two gentlemen, face impassive as he only hummed and nodded at whatever they were saying. For a second, he glanced ahead, and our eyes connected. My breath hitched and I fought every fibre in my body wanting to look away, knowing that the King liked a good chase and a little provocation. If I looked away, I would admit defeat, and he didn’t like women who weren’t a little fiery, harder to break. The thought made me sick but I quickly disregarded it and hid my fake smile as I took the smallest sip I could of my champagne, knowing that my plan was working as the King’s eyes bore into mine, narrowing. It wasn’t the first time our eyes accidentally met during the night, and I was completely convinced that his curiosity was growing the more I seemed to be teasing him. Always around, yet never approaching him. Always around, yet never actively asking for his attention. I could see his fierce eyes on me every time I laughed a little too loudly, or anytime I playfully touched a gentleman’s bicep for a second too long. The King might’ve thought I wasn’t looking, but I was. And my plan was working just perfectly. The mission would finally turn out to be a success tonight.

“Miss Bae,” My attention was ripped away from the King as a moderately tall man stopped in front of me, lips heart shaped, and kind eyes sharper rather than rounder. The man’s voice was rather deep, yet soft, and he looked almost a little shy, “I did not know you would be attending tonight’s ball.”

I plastered on a soft smile and tried to act like I knew the man in front of me. Prince San didn’t really tell me who I was supposed to know tonight, and so I had to be creative when catching other people’s names, “It came as a surprise to me as well.”

The man chuckled as he covered his mouth with a soft looking hand, eyes glinting in amusement. He didn’t look like he had dubious reasons for talking to me, unlike many other men so far tonight, and his eyes had not even once fallen onto my cleavage, “Did your father send you in hopes of finding a suitor?”

“Perhaps that was the reason,” I mussed as I took a sip of my champagne, aware of the King’s eyes on me as I continued talking to the kind man, “it seems like he won’t accept the fact that I do not wish to marry.”

“Perhaps you haven’t met the right man yet.” Ah, the likeableness of this man just plummeted as my eyebrows furrowed, and he seemed alarmed as he realized what he had said, “Oh! I was not suggesting that you should marry or anything else, Miss Bae! It is completely alright to not want to marry, I do not wish to marry either.”

“Lovely,” I hummed, not interested in the conversation anymore. The King was moving away and I had to remain close to him, “I didn’t catch your name, sir.”

“Do Kyungsoo, Miss Bae, I see the passing of the years made you forget about me.” I gulped, nervous all of a sudden as Mr. Do chuckled. I had no idea who he was, but I was sure the real Bae Joohyun would know. So, I chuckled abashed, looking down in fake embarrassment.

“My apologies, I haven’t been to Aurora in so long…” Mr. Do nodded in understanding, downing the rest of his champagne in one go.

“Then I must leave you alone to mingle some more, right?” He sounded slightly disappointed, and I couldn’t help but think that the bond between Miss Bae and Mr. Do once had ran deeper than it seemed. I cleared my throat and excused myself with a bow of my head, looking for the King. The crowd was large and as the music had gotten louder, a dance floor had formed in the middle of the big room. Everyone was loud as more champagne and expensive wine was consumed, both men and women getting bolder and handsy with each other. I tried not to see the disappearing couples behind pillars and curtains as I walked past them, quiet moans or groans alarming to hear. I was no prude, but doing anything like that just felt wrong in a place like this. Besides, I wouldn’t have dared doing anything relatively inadequate in the house of the King, under his watchful eyes.

“Miss Bae.” I jumped as the velvety voice whispered in my ear, almost making me punch their gut as I whirled around, “You’ve been alone ever since I have left your side.”

Mr. Byun wasn’t exactly the man I wished to be around right now; eyes hazed over as his breath reeked of alcohol. He had set his eyes on me the second the servant had announced my name and title, lurking around me after presenting himself and talking to me.

“You are quite wrong,” I chuckled, trying not to glare at him as he reached out a hand and twirled a dark strand of my hair between his fingers, “I have been talking to others too, Mr. Byun.”

“None as promising and handsome as myself, right?” The man smirked, overly sure of himself, making my jaw clench as I forced a chuckle to leave my lips. All this unwanted attention certainly hadn’t been part of my plan, I thought nobody would give me even as much as a second glance, busy with others, with people they already knew. All these men were making this experience even less pleasant, as if being in the lion’s den was pleasant in the first place.

“What a confident man,” I smiled widely, placing my empty glass on a tray as a servant walked by us, “I bet the ladies love being around you, Mr. Byun.”

“Hopefully you are one of those ladies yourself, Miss Bae.” Mr. Byun winked and suddenly bowed, extending a hand towards me, “Would you offer me your first dance of the night, love?”

No, I would not like to offer you my first dance of the night, but I didn’t have a choice. I couldn’t refuse a dance, whether I liked the idea or not. I had started thinking that my plan had been flawed from the very beginning and that I wouldn’t succeed in fulfilling my mission, that is, until I felt a gloved hand sneaking around my waist, firmly yanking me into the side of a body. My eyes widened as I gasped at the sudden feeling, head snapping up, dread filling my whole being. The King was glaring down at Mr. Byun as his hold tightened around my waist, and I almost flung myself out of his grip, skin burning through the fabric where the King had touched me. Despite my goal being exactly this, to find myself in the arms of the King, it felt wrong. Very wrong. I wanted nothing more than to run away, but I steeled my nerves and hushed the thoughts that were screaming to run far away from the tyrant, and managed to ease a soft smile on my lips.

“Mr. Byun,” The King grinned, however it didn’t reach his dark eyes, “already drunk and close to passing out? It’s been only two hours since the ball started, you fool.”

Mr. Byun’s jaw clenched, but he had no choice but to bow his head in respect, “My apologies, Your Grace, I might have gotten carried away.”

“Most certainly if you thought you could dance with such beautiful maiden.” It was my turn to clench my jaw at the King’s insinuation, but I willed my heartrate to calm down and muscles to relax as the King’s dark gaze was directed onto me now, “Shall we dance, gorgeous?”

“Yes, Your Grace.” I bowed my head and forced a timid smile onto my lips as the King’s ring, claw, decorated hand found my waist too, grip firm as he veered me in front of himself and made us walk towards the dance floor. My back straightened as I tried to calm down and not tense up when the King’s hands squeezed my waist just a little bit more, narrowly avoiding a couple as they were dancing around a little too wildly for the King’s liking as he leered at them. I closed my eyes when I felt ourselves stop in the middle of the dance floor, and took a deep breath. I could do this, for the future of the Fallen of the Kingdom, for our nation, and for Prince Choi San. I could do this, and I would do this.

When I blinked my eyes open, the King was stood in front of me, a dangerous smirk on his plush red lips, staring down with hunger in his eyes as they racked down my body. I gulped and gasped when I was forcefully yanked against his broad and strong body, ring decorated hand curling into my hips as his gloved hand took mine in his, holding it a lot gentler than I expected him to. As I looked up, making eye contact with the King, he took a step forward, slowly easing us into a waltz that matched the pace of the orchestra and of those dancing around us too.

The King wore fine garments, moulded for his body, almost like a second layer for his venomous skin. His black trousers with fine white stripes clung to his long legs perfectly, enunciating his proportions even more as they were tucked into shiny tall boots that reached just bellow the King’s knees. The brown belt was hidden by the black vest clinging onto his upper body, the same fabric of his trousers seemingly sewn together with the vest’s fabric on his left shoulder and the lower right side of it. However, the back of the vest was completely different, a white fabric with black swirls on it. A black necktie was tucked underneath the King’s vest, a fine necklace with beads and a silver cross sitting on top of it, with a matching rosary hanging on top of his vest and necktie altogether. There was nothing holy about the King, it was a mere display of mockery in the Lord’s name that even such dark creature could wear and touch something so holy. The white shirt’s right sleeve was rolled up to the King’s elbows, bracelets that matched his rosary hanging snugly against his thin wrist, his metal rings, claws, eye-catching and on display for everyone to see. The left sleeve of his white shirt was tucked underneath his black leather gloves, crunching quietly as the King’s fingers tightened around mine. I tried to remain calm as the prolonged eye contact put me on edge, and I fought to stay confident and repress all the nightmarish memories of the King.

“It’s been a while, cousin.” I couldn’t completely read the expression on the King’s face, and so I only gulped. Words seemed to have escaped me, and it only made my stomach clench more when the King’s eyes fell onto my cleavage again, all too aware of how exposed I was. But it was on purpose, Prince San knew the King’s vices, and he was using it to our advantage when he had gifted this dress to me, “I don’t remember you being this quiet, Joohyun, dear.”

I gulped and scoffed, irritation not so fake anymore, “People change, Your Grace, and I have too.”

“Did your daddy tell you to behave well tonight?” His question didn’t sit well with me, especially the tone he had said it with, but I just ignored it as I rolled my eyes at the King, “Did he think you’d be rewarded for it?”

My face flushed at the implication, and it took me everything to not rip myself away from the King right then and there as I felt the sharp ends of his ornaments dig into my skin through the thin fabric of my white dress, “I’m not looking for anything, Yunho, I’m merely here to socialize, see what my cousin is up to lately.”

“I’m doing just fine, dear, as you can see.” The King chuckled, and I felt him pulling me flushed against himself, making my heartbeat quicken as I had to crane my neck to look up at him, “The Kingdom is flourishing and Aurora is doing better than it had been under King Choi’s regiment.”

“You’ve certainly brought some changes to it, Your Grace.” I couldn’t contain the snarl in my tone as I averted my eyes, staring at the rosary instead while the King just chuckled. There was nothing hilarious about what I had said, but of course, it would’ve been alarming if the King thought the way he ruled wasn’t right, “Do you plan on ruining the Kingdom of the Fallen even more?”

The King’s eyes hardened as I looked back up in his eyes, jaw clenching as I felt his right hand slowly slip lower, pressing flat against the small of my back. The action made goosebumps erupt on my skin, and I tried not to shudder as the King merely smirked, no doubt noticing my reaction to his undesired touch.

“I see your passion for the wellbeing of my Kingdom hasn’t changed, dear Joohyun.” The King smiled, but it was far from genuine, he looked irritated, “Why don’t you become Queen and mould it to your own likes?”

“Is that what you are doing right now?” I cocked an eyebrow and chuckled, “Playing with your people as if you were playing chess? What’s next, a war against the Kingdom of Light? You know their Queen can’t wait to destroy you, Yunho.”

“How saddening she’ll never get the chance to do so.” The glint in the King’s eyes was scary, they held a secret so dark I probably didn’t want to know, but I was curious. He was planning something, something dangerous and big, and I needed to find out what. But that would take time, and if I managed to kill him tonight, that dark secret of his would die with him.

“Indeed,” I chuckled and tried to ignore the way the King’s hand slipped further down, fingers barely brushing against my ass. Why was he doing this? He surely could’ve found other ladies that weren’t related to him, since he was under the impression that I was his cousin, even if not a close relative, still blood-related to him, “I see your goons never leave your side, Your Grace.”

The King’s head fell backwards as he laughed, chest shaking with the motion, the first genuine reaction I had ever seen on him. It stunned me, but I tried not to gape. I glanced to the side, unsurprised as I found Song Mingi staring daggers our way, twirling a knife in his hands. The redhead was dancing, but her eyes were solely fixed on the King as well, probably deaf to whatever the man holding her was saying to her.

“My goons, are my most loyal guards, dear, of course they never leave my side.” The King finally seemed to get over my words as he had stopped laughing and was instead grinning, glancing to the side like I had done so. His eyes softened for a second as they fell on Song Mingi, and then his cold exterior was back on as his eyes fell down on me, “It’s their duty, after all.”

“It looks like a little bit more than just duty, Your Grace.” I smirked, heart stilling when I felt the King unashamedly squeeze my ass. I jumped and tried not to sputter as he flushed me fully against himself, a sickening smirk pulling at his lips.

“Perhaps it is more than just duty.” The King whispered, winking as he lowered his head just a little bit, closing his eyes and inhaling deeply. I tensed, eyes wide as I continued staring at him slightly frightened, “You smell like fresh roses, so sweet.”

I tried not to show how disgusted I felt, and instead chuckled lightly, “Thank you, Your Grace. Tell me a little secret…do your loyal dogs follow you everywhere?”

The King quirked an eyebrow, prompting me to continue as his clawed fingers pressed a little harsher into my clothed ass, “Or do your guards offer you privacy when times call for desperate measures?”

The King chuckled, leaning down so that he’d be able to whisper in my ear. I tried to remain relaxed as his hot lips brushed against my ear, tone low and words dripping with allure, “They know when not to follow, dear, would you like to see for yourself?”

As the King pulled back, bottom lip between his teeth as his eyes dropped to my cleavage again, I knew this was it. I wouldn’t get a better chance where the King and I were alone, “Since you offered so nicely, My King.”

The King’s eyes darkened significantly as he released his bottom lip and licked his lips, nodding once. Before I could change my mind about what I had agreed to and flee, the King took a step back and released my body, however still kept a firm grip on our intertwined fingers, our gloves a clash of colours against each other. The crowd seemed to part as the King walked through it, curious eyes watching closely as I followed after the King, struggling to keep up with his long strides, but he wouldn’t slow down for me. I gripped the skirt of my dress and raised it above my ankles in order to not trip, paying close attention to my surroundings for when I needed to escape. It wouldn’t be easy as we were on the third floor and all windows seemed to be locked in the long corridor, and I could only hope I would find a hidden door that would lead through a passageway, helping me escape once I had killed the King.

I didn’t expect us to stop so soon, and so I ran into the back of the King, making him chuckle. He wordlessly pushed the door open for us, and allowed me to walk in first, releasing my hand. I took a deep breath before I stepped through the threshold and tried not to gape at the size of the library I had just stepped foot inside. The walls were covered in nothing but endless shelves of books upon books, a room that had two floors, ladders pressed up against the tall bookshelves for when you needed something from a higher shelf. The room was beautiful, and something vexing like jealousy plunged deep in my gut, jealousy that the King had all of this beauty at his feet while others had to suffer out in the cold streets, begging for a shilling as nobody had much money to pay up. But before I could marvel at the beauty of the library even more, I felt myself yanked backwards. The wind was knocked out of my lungs as my back collided against the sturdy bookshelves, and I panicked thinking that my identity had been discovered, that the King finally had enough of me. I was ready to fight him, grab my hidden dagger and stab him in the heart, fight and flee afterwards, but what I didn’t expecting was to feel his blood-red lips pressing against mine. I froze, eyes wide in awestruck as the King’s lips were warmer than I thought they would be, and really soft. It was a crime that somebody like him had lips like that. Out of distress, I grabbed his biceps and went to push the King away, but I realized that would be a mistake. How else could I distract him if not like this? He’d have his guard down, offering me the perfect chance to stab him. And so, I swallowed the disgust bubbling up my throat and forced my eyes to close as my fingers dug into the King’s skin through the soft fabric of his white shirt.

His right hand grabbed my jaw to tilt my head up, making it easier for him to continue leaning down to kiss me, his rings not quite digging into my skin, but dangerously close to doing so. My heart was racing as the King’s lips started moving against mine, not soft at all, not careful nor patient as I forced myself to reciprocate it. It was hard, every fibre in my body was screaming at me to stop this, that I could distract him somehow else, but a more logical side of me knew that I just couldn’t. I was doing this for Aurora, for the Kingdom of the Fallen, and so I relaxed against the King’s strong body and forced my thoughts to silence. My arms raised and I wrapped them around the King’s shoulders, pressing up on my tip toes to kiss him better, opening my mouth for his lips to fit better against mine. The King didn’t waste time as his tongue slipped past my lips and lapped at my mouth furiously, a moan slipping past my lips as I fisted the black strands of hair sitting neatly on his nape. The King seemed to enjoy that as his claws suddenly dug into my skin, making me whine as his tongue brushed against mine, licking at it in a way I didn’t know was possible, my knees weakening involuntarily as the King’s body pinned me against the bookshelf, immobilising me, caging me between himself and the bookshelves. It was a little scary, but I didn’t dwell on it as the King sucked on my tongue, completely dirty and nothing like I have experienced before, my cheeks flaring as I felt his gloved hand settle at the base of my throat. My heart picked up thinking that he would try and choke me, rob me of my already waning air, but instead, it slowly slipped towards my breasts, cupping my right one harshly. I moaned and chased after his mouth as he pulled slightly back, slotting my upper lip between his, suckling on his bottom one as the King started massaging my breast through the thin fabric of my dress, groaning loudly into my mouth.

It was starting to get hot around me, our actions affecting my body in ways it long hadn’t been affected like, the touches of the King igniting a dormant fire deep in the pit of my stomach. It wasn’t fair that he could elicit such a reaction out of me, not when I bore nothing but hatred towards him. It wasn’t fair that I had to go out of my way to do something I didn’t wish to do in order to get rid of the tyrant, and it only fuelled the fire in my veins as I latched onto the King’s lips furiously, setting a pace that was bruising to our already swollen lips. Low groans slipped past the King’s lips as our noses kept knocking against each other, his right hand leaving my face as it went behind my body, grasping my ass painfully. I gasped and tried not to recoil when the King suddenly licked at my bottom lip, humming lowly in the back of his throat as he flushed our lower bodies together, rutting into me. My heart was hammering against my ribcage and I felt like I couldn’t breathe, but I refused to open my eyes, scared that I would run away if we made eye contact. The King groaned as he massaged my flesh through my dress, and the hand still squeezing my breast finally disappeared and grabbed onto the other cheek of my ass before it slowly slipped back onto my lower back, fisting my dress. My chest was rising and falling quickly, and I tried to regulate my breaths and clear my mind, assess the situation in order to be able to proceed. But suddenly, I felt cold metal pressing into my skin, grabbing my jaw firmly.

“Open your eyes, little dove.” My heart did a somersault and I froze, thoughts running a million per hour, panicking. Had he finally realized who I really was? I felt teeth sinking into my bottom lip painfully and I whined as my eyes snapped open, freezing as the King’s dark eyes were right in front of mine. His neck, ears, and cheeks were flushed red, lips swollen and glistening with saliva. His pupils were dilated and he smirked as he massaged the small of my back, suddenly his thumb swiping across my lower lip. I couldn’t look away, it felt like he had bewitched me, locked me into place as I struggled to fill my lungs to the brim with air. I was scared, waiting for the predator’s next move, trying to anticipate what he’d do next. But I certainly didn’t think he’d slip the sharp metal ring inside my mouth, forefinger pressing against my tongue, “Suck.”

I gulped and maintained eye contact with the King as I licked his finger, trying to ignore the animalistic look on his face as I hollowed my cheeks and sucked on his ornament decorated finger slowly, swirling my tongue around it. The King leaned closer, lips hovering dangerously close to mine, brushing against his own knuckles. The King was panting hard as he slipped his middle finger too inside my mouth, and I tried to remain calm as I became aware of the ache in my right hand, the mark he had given me three years ago suddenly burning as if it were freshly made. I wouldn’t be able to handle this for much longer, gut twisting in sickness, yet my body was pressing harder against the King’s, aware of the neediness that had suddenly overcome it. I pushed my tongue between the King’s two fingers and sucked on them, making the King’s jaw clench until he suddenly pulled them out of my mouth, making saliva drip down my chin. I was embarrassed and my cheeks burned as he grabbed my left thigh, lifting it up and around his hips, pressing his body into mine, the hardness all too obvious in his trousers as he rubbed himself against me. My breath hitched in my throat at the friction, the King’s eyes glossed over as he released my thigh once he was sure I’d keep it there. My fingers tangled tighter into his locks as he allowed his metal decorated fingers to travel up my exposed thigh due to the slit in the skirt, only stopping when it reached my clothed core. I tried to stop the whimper from escaping my lips as I bit down on my bottom one, completely at the King’s mercy as he started rubbing small circles against my clothed clit, embarrassed of how reactive I was to his ministrations. I was aching, clenching around nothing, but I forced myself to stay level-headed as I fisted the collar of the King’s shirt and yanked him down, pressing our lips together once more, forcefully. I locked his hips against mine with my left leg and rolled my hip against the King’s hand, whining as he kept the slow, antagonizing, pace. I made sure he was busy with working me further up as I slowly slipped my left hand out of his hair, down his shoulders, stopping at his narrow waist to squeeze before I carefully removed it from his body, leaning a little forward and into the King in order to reach the top of my white boot.

My dagger was hidden just inside of it, the cold blade pressing against my shin all night long, waiting for this exact moment. I could feel the triumph in my bloodstream as I gripped the handle of the blade, moaning as the King cupped my clothed core, but stopped his ministrations altogether. I didn’t stop kissing him, however, as I raised my dagger high, ready to plunge it deep into the King’s back. But before I could even as much as move my arm, suddenly, my head was slammed to the side, making me hiss loudly at the dull ache in my jaw as it crashed into the bookshelf painfully, my left arm pinned to the bookshelf above myself. I froze, blood turning ice cold as I was afraid to even as much as breathe despite my lungs heaving for air. The King’s nose suddenly was pressing into my left cheek, his sweaty forehead resting against my temple as his breathing was loud and shallow. I didn’t dare move, frozen to the spot. I had been discovered, and now I would die. I would fail Prince San and bring shame to my name. I was nothing but a failure, soon about to meet my brother in Eden.

“Bae Joohyun, you say,” The King chuckled, sounding actually amused, “I didn’t know my own cousin hated me so much she wanted to kill me herself?”

I took quiet breaths, but didn’t speak up. It seemed like the King still had something to say, I didn’t dare interrupt his monologue, “I didn’t think your unrelenting support could turn into hatred in two weeks, cousin.”

Ah, so this is where Prince San had made a mistake. Bae Joohyun and Jeong Yunho had been in contact all this time, and apparently, she was on his side. Prince San should’ve known better, but so should have I. I should’ve trusted my gut feeling this time, and I didn’t, and now I would suffer the consequences. Because darkness always prevailed, no matter how much the good and kind fought for its disappearance.

“People change.” I managed to mutter, right side of my face digging painfully into the shelf. I wasn’t panting anymore, but my frantic heartbeat made it hard to actually breathe, and so I was still struggling to calm down.

“Not you, little dove.” The King whispered, and suddenly I felt lips pressing against my ear, making me jerk. The King was frighteningly strong, and I finally started pushing against him, trying to free myself, but it was futile…as always, “Stop fighting against me, you’ll only make it worse for yourself.”

“Burn in hell, Jeong Yunho.” I hissed, trying to look at him from the corner of my eyes. The King chuckled, trailing kisses from my temple down to my jaw. I tried to push him off again, but it did nothing.

“Still trying to curse me,” The King muttered, nuzzling his nose against my cheek again, “I suppose you didn’t change, my little dove. Did you think I’d forget? Was it worth that apple?”

My eyes widened to the point of falling out as the King suddenly released me, my head snapping forward as my heartbeat stilled. I went to throw a punch at his jaw, but he completely took me off guard as he grabbed my right thigh too and hiked me up, pressing me into the bookshelf again as he pinned my wrists above my head, the dagger clattering to the floor from my grip. Out of reflex, my legs wrapped around his hips tighter, knowing that I would slip down despite the force the King was pinning me down with.

“You killed my brother.” Was all I managed to whisper, eyes filling with tears. The King shushed me and leaned his head close, his soft features scary all of a sudden as his blank mask slipped back on.

“You killed your brother by stealing that apple and getting caught for it.” The King whispered, eyebrows furrowing, “If you wouldn’t have put up such a fight, I wouldn’t have thrown you in the dungeon, in fact, I would’ve allowed you to take the leftovers from the kitchen for your brother—”

“Screw you!” I screamed, fury lacing every part of my being, heart hammering in my ribcage, “Curse you! Burn in hell for everything you’ve done! You dare mock me to my face about my brother?! I promise you I will make sure you don’t see tomorrow’s sunrise!”

“Bold words coming from such a frail dove like yourself,” The King mocked, pouting as my body started trembling, “I could behead you right in the middle of the ballroom, my little dove.”

I didn’t care anymore what he did to me. He could kill me right here or right in front of an audience, I didn’t care anymore as long as I was free of this miserable life.

“Do it.” I gritted through my teeth, leaning into his face, lips ghosting against his, “Do it, you fucking coward. You could’ve easily killed me in the alleyway that night or in the square, even now, yet all you do is run your mouth with empty threats.”

I knew they weren’t empty threats, that the King would actually kill me in the following minutes, but I wasn’t afraid of him anymore. I have seen all grey colours of his, I knew who he was, what he was capable of.

“If I had killed you, where would be the fun in that?” The King raised his eyebrows, pressing a light kiss against my lips, making me jerk my head back, “You think I don’t know my brother and his pathetic of excuse of a guard sent you to kill me? Little dove, if they wanted me dead so bad, why didn’t they come after me? Why did they send you?”

I froze, eyebrows furrowing as the King continued with a small amused smile, “They sent a poor girl that is desperate to avenge her brother’s death, a girl that is so weak she can’t even free herself right now, yet all I’m doing is pin you against a bookshelf, little dove. My brother, Prince San, and his pest, Jung Wooyoung, merely sent a weak and poor girl to kill a King that holds twice the strength she does just because they wanted to use you, because they knew you hated me strong enough to actually do what they asked of you. They knew you had nothing to lose anymore, and they know you do not care for your safety or life anymore, my little dove.”

I was stunned listening to the King’s words, slowly shaking my head no, refusing to accept such words. No, that is not why Prince San and Sir Jung had chosen me to eliminate the King, it couldn’t be. That’s not who those two were, and I would’ve been a fool if I succumbed to the King’s words, letting his poisonous words infect my brain with lies.

“No, you’re wrong, My King,” I whispered, eyes boring into his with such hatred that it ricochetted off my whole being, “Prince Choi and Sir Jung aren’t like you. And if I’m just a means to an end in their grand plan, I do not care as long as they manage to rid the Kingdom and this world of you, Jeong Yunho.”

The King hissed, obviously displeased by my retaliation, by my fervorous belief in the Prince and his Royal Guard, “I see you refuse to see the truth just yet, my little dove, so let me give you two options.”

My eyebrows furrowed as the King leaned so close his breath fanned over my face, dark and piercing eyes boring into mine, his cheeks still tinged red, “The very obvious first option is death, but I don’t feel like getting rid of you just yet, my little dove, therefore, I have a second option for you.”

He paused, a sick smirk twisting his lips to the side, making my stomach drop in dread, “You become my good little obedient spy, my ears and eyes in Aurora, and in return, I shall reward you with immunity.”

“No—” I was shaking my head before he could even finish what he was saying, but the King’s sneering face quickly made me shut up.

“I wasn’t finished talking, Y/N.” My breath hitched, he even knew my name, “You will go back this instant to the pathetic mansion those two idiots are hiding in, and tell them, that if they even as much as dare to think to send someone to assassinate me again, I will dismember Jung Wooyoung in front of Choi San after I dissect their whore of a maid, leaving my dear brother for last, publicly executing him in the square, calling all of the Kingdom of the Fallen together to witness the fall of the Crown Prince. Understood?”

My lips quivered as my eyes filled with tears, my voice merely above a whisper, “No, Your Grace, I won’t—”

“I’m not giving you an option, my little dove,” The King suddenly released my arms, which fell limply next to my body as the King cupped my left cheek with his sharp metal rings, “I’m giving you an order that you will execute.”

I tried to blink the tears away, recoiling when one slipped down my cheek and the King kissed it away, “And once you have delivered my message, I expect you back at the Castle, my little dove.”

My breath stuttered in my throat, wide eyes looking into the King’s dark ones. Suddenly, he bucked his hips and I gasped as I realised he was still as hard as mere minutes ago, making my heart race, “Because little doves like you deserve a reward, and you’ve been awfully pliant tonight, so I will fuck you senseless and teach you a lesson afterwards.”

My blood froze, the colour leaving my face as the King snickered, pressing a soft kiss against the bridge of my nose as he suddenly stepped back, gently placing me back down against the floor. I felt abused, thrown around and mauled, skin burning everywhere the King had touched. I was disgusted, and yet I knew I had no choice but to do as I was told. I belonged to him, and even if I ran, he would find me. I gulped as the King’s gloved fingers danced up my gloved arm, slowly slipping the silky fabric down my hand, making me shiver. I clenched my jaw and refused to look down as the King raised my hand, staring at the damaged skin in awe. His lips were parted and he took a deep breath, slowly leaning down and kissing the maimed skin he had caused with his own hands three years ago. I closed my eyes shut tightly, trying to fight the tears that threatened to escape.

“So beautiful,” The King whispered, hot lips brushing feather-light against the skin of my right hand, “Mine, little dove, you’re all mine. You always have been.”

I gulped as I looked at the King, jaw clenching as I yanked my hand out of his and quickly wore my glove, hiding the atrocious scar that he had caused. The King seemed to be in a trance as he stared at me, making my heartbeat quicken even more when he didn’t say anything.

I needed to leave, I felt like I was suffocating.

“My Mingi will meet you in the back gardens, my little dove, ready with a horse.” My blood ran cold, hands turning into fists as the King turned away from me, walking towards the massive oak desk he had in the middle of the library, “I expect you back in an hour, my little dove, and if you don’t come back, I will burn down everything in my way to find you. Understood?”

I grit my teeth, staring daggers into the back of his head, “Understood, Your Grace.”

And if finding a different way to kill the King would be the cause of my last breath, I would still do it. This wasn’t the end, he hadn’t won yet, because I would always remain on Prince Choi and Sir Jung’s side, always. In fact, the King had made is easier for us to find out all of his weak points, easier to stab him in the back when he least expects it.

If I had to dedicate my whole life to bring down such evil, I would do it over and over again, because in the end, goodness always wins.

❱❱ Next part

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let-the-living-beware · 1 year

Text

Cora Sakamaki - Backstory Part I

──────────────── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ────────────────

– Someone told me stay away from things that aren’t yours

The night was still young when the woman stepped out to take a breather. She wasn't the biggest fan of parties but when the Vampire king invited her and only her she couldn't just say no. With a sigh she looked up into the sky, the stars reflecting in her golden eyes.

“You look beautiful Cora.” the soft voice of the king came from behind her.

Quickly she turned around, her pupils growing big when she finally saw him. He wore a dark brown suit, perfectly contrasting her violet dress. He looked mesmerizing.

“You too, your highness.” she whispered and walked towards him.

“Don’t call me that,” he laughed, they have known each other for years “call me Arnold, my dear.”

Cora and Arnold had an ongoing love affair while he was married to his first wife

Cora repeatedly wanted him to divorce his wife but he couldnt do it, not so easily. For years she tried and got into fights e´with him over that

when his wife couldnt give him a son, he decided to get rid of her but the public wouldnt approve of this

he staged an accident and send his daughter Penelope to live with the founders

lived alone for three more years until people began talking why he wouldnt marry again

under the pretence of finding a wife he threw a ball and invited Cora and her sister

Cora however never loved him

she is a very good manipulator and didnt wanna be a disappointment to her family so she pretended to be in love with him

eventually really fell in love and they married

after their death she would be known as Cora the first, the first Vampire queen

Arnold erased his first wifes and daughters existence

– a pair of cursed twins, bound by bloody destiny

Arnold walked towards his wife's room with a steady step, he was already too late. The negotiations with the founder King took a bit longer than expected. Not only because his daughter kept pestering him about meeting his grandchild but also because Gießbach didn't want to cooperate at all.

When he finally arrived, he flung the door open and found Cora laying on the bed. She was peacefully sleeping and beside her a maid and two beds. She doted him to be quiet.

Now more carefully he walked up to the beds, in them laid his children, eyes closed and hands beside their heads.

“Two boys.” Coras voice spoke from behind him, still sleepy. He turned around, slight tears in his eyes. Finally he would have an heir and with the women he loved too.

“What are their names?” Cora smiled at him. “You decide. They are your sons after all.”

Now he turned around again, looking at them. Their white-pinkish hair just barely visible.

“Karl-Heinz and Cecil.”

Cecil and Karl were sold as the saviors of the still struggling Vampire clan

Karl was heavily favored by his mother

she taught him everything about manipulation and how to get your way in the world

she also focused on his intelligence and how to be perceived as the perfect prince

Cecil was supposed to be the next Vampire king

he got sword fighting lessons and training in magic

his father took him to every meeting from the time he was 6 years old

politics were one of the main things he taught even though he had no interest in any of this

he was engaged to a young girl named Elizabeth

this changed when they found out that Cecil began researching stellar magic

a forbidden magic that only founders practiced

when he was 15 he also said that he didn't want to marry Elizabeth and it made rounds over the entire demon world

his father didn't want to disown him but threw of the the engagement and ignored Cecil from then on, only focusing on Karl who really enjoyed the new found attention

in an last attempt to still make Cecil the next Vampire king he let them fight for the throne

Karl won and Cecil was officially forgotten

he buried himself in his studies, earning himself the attention from his mother

their bond began getting stronger and they remained in close contact until she died

– here I stay, all dressed within the lies I can’t escape

Cecil stood in the observatory, nervous. Today he not only turned 25 but he would also propose to the love of his life. For months now did he plan this, every detail. She knew about his feelings but they never made it official until now and if she said yes everything would be perfect. He had no doubt she would say yes, they were meant for each other.

The glass door to the room opened, letting in a fresh breeze. There she stood, in a black-orange dress. Her beautiful blonde hair framing her face perfectly. She smiled a sad smile that Cecil, in all his nervousness, didn’t notice.

He walked up to her, taking her hands in his.

“Beatrix I wanted to ask you something,” he began with a shaky voice “I always had feelings for you. From the first time I ever saw you”

“Cecil” she politely tried to interrupt him so as to not make it too painful but he didn’t stop.

“I knew I was in love with you, so.”

“Cecil!” this time it worked and he stopped, a confused look on his face. She freed herself from his grip and stepped backwards.

“I-” she took a deep breath to collect herself. “Karl proposed to me this morning.”

Cecil was speechless. Only now did he notice the small diamond ring, perfectly matched to her style. The guilt in her deep blue eyes and the way she avoided his gaze, something very untypical for her.

“And I said yes. I am very sorry-”

“Go.”

“Cecil please don’t be dramatic-”

“Go or I will kill you.” tears began building in his eyes, why was the world so unfair. Cecil heard the door closing before a depressing silence overcame the room. How could she, how could Karl. Why was the world so unfair.

Cecil meets Beatrix first at a ball

they get along great from the first second

she is the first woman that could meet his intellect and he soon falls in love with her

they often look at the stars together but after she met Karl, who had just married Cordelia 3 years prior, they see each other less

he was afraid Karl might try to marry her and wanted to propose as soon as possible

but it was already too late

Cecil was only half present the entire wedding and developed depression at the fact his brother took yet another thing from him

Shu’s birth was probably the most straining thing for him, chasing the prince into the hole more and more

the announcement of Beatrix being pregnant again finally pushed him over the edge

at the same time he also began to decipher spells, finding one that promised a fast death

he tried to kill himself on the day Reiji was born but the spell was wrong, it only promised death when you had committed no sin. If you should have then you would be cursed

Cecil was cursed with the body of a woman, one that resembled his mothers and immortality

whenever he should die, a blue mark would appear on his body

this mark becomes bigger with every death until it fully consumes him and takes control over his body

first he really struggled with that but came to terms with it in the end

he changed his gender and name

from then on she would be known as Cora II Sakamaki. Karl-heinz younger sister

#diabolik oc #Cora Sakamaki #my ocs #This is the first part #I had it ready for like two months #but my Ocs are giving me a hard time lately so I dont know when the second part will be posted

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worldweaverofmediocrity · 2 years

Text

Overlord v The Triforce

An: hopefully the third draft works.

Chapter 1: We Make Three, Thus you’ll never get rid of me.

-Power-

Far to the south of the human nations sat a little girl named Keno Fasris Invern. Keno was listening to her father's lecture on economics when three things happened. A foul feeling (Draconic Energy, a deep part of her remarked in a masucline voice) overtook her entire kingdom and the neighboring kingdoms, completely silencing it. A different kind of foul energy lashed out from Keno’s body, draining her father’s warmth. Turning her into a vampire.

But the third part was the oddest. A sudden surge of “BURN! MAIM! KILL!” drowned Keno in its wrath, only to be ...muzzled and pushed deep into her soul by the Draconic Energy and a third and fourth energies. The third was sand, wind, and death. The fourth could only be described as Power Itself.

“Finally, the Calamity/Curse shuts up.” The voice breathed a deep sigh of relief. “While the Curse isn’t gone, merely weakened, I can finally hear myself thinking again. Something you will prize after millenia trapped under a castle with only an unholy screeching beast as company.”

“Dad? Why did you stop?” Keno asked. Her father’s eyes lacked an inner light.

Frightened by her dad’s lack of response and the voice, Keno ran to her mother. Who also lacked the inner light and didn’t respond. Next she went to her siblings, and they too lacked an inner light. The guards, maids, butlers, and various other castle dwellers that weren’t the Royal Family all failed to respond and lacked Inner Light.

“My name is Ganondorf Dragmire, King of the Gerudos and Unending Scourge to Hyrule.” Ganondorf said, cutting through Keno’s panic attack. “I can teach you how to exact vengeance upon the dragon who dared to do this.”

“Okay. let’s say I believe you, how will you teach me?” Keno timidly asked the voice after looking around for a minute.

Her shadow lengthened as a literal tree branch bubbled up. Keno knew from her ‘Ganondorf’ part that it was the literal weakest weapon (and variant) that she-he-they could create. Keno obligingly took the tree branch out of her shadow and turned to face the red goblin-like creature that bubbled up.

“This is a Red Bokoblin, the absolute weakest of our forces. Only good for basic manual labor outside of war time and pushing enemies to our stronger minions through sheer weight of numbers. That’s if you don’t let them loose on enemy supply lines. And if you don’t take the time to give further education than what can be fit during their creation.” Ganondorf said. “While I’ll teach you many things such as war and peace time rulership. Magic and Curses. How to stay sane while trapped for millenia and how to break seals while inside them. How to be extremely annoying to your fellow immortals. But the most important lesson starts now.”

The Red Bokoblin pulled a copy of Keno’s tree branch from its shadow.

“All of your plans will be thwarted eventually. Your hordes and associated empires will fall. If you're unlucky then said hordes will not have taken out the other nations. Either way. It will always come down to you vs how many enemies you have left. While in the past World it was usually the Princess of Wisdom and the Hero of Courage, I can not guarantee that it will be a 2vs1 in this World. But for now we will focus on one vs one combat.” Ganondorf said.

“Wait there’s another world?” Keno asked but alas the Bokoblin rushed her forcing a panicked dodge.

-Wisdom-

Renner Theiere Chardelon Rye Vaiself frowned at the chess board. Ignoring her elder sister’s taunts and drawing upon her accumulated knowledge. In five moves there was a way to utterly humiliate her foolish elder sister. But there was another way to permanently prove the worth of reading so many books in 20 moves. Renner decided to be the better person and do the 20 moves.

“How kind of you.” Said a female aristocratic voice in Renner’s head, once the elder sister left.

“Who's there?” Renner glanced around in a hurry.

“There is nothing to spot. I am part of your soul.” The voice said. Before proving that statement by stating several embarrassing facts about Renner’s childhood that only Renner could know.

Renner breathed in. “Okay so you’ve been part of my soul since birth or close enough to not matter. Why didn’t you speak before hand?” Renner thought-spoke to her soul symbiote.

“Three reasons. The First is that your soul/personality only has recently stabilized. If I interacted beforehand then you would just be my metaphorical hand puppet. Secondly I was observing this world and its plights. Thirdly, I lacked the Power to actually demonstrate abilities so I could properly teach you.” The symbiote said.

“How did you gain the Power? And why can I hear the capitalization?” Renner thought as she sipped some tea. “What will you be teaching me?”

“Soul Resonance and simply time. I am Soul Bound in three ways. First of which I am Soul Bound to the Goddess of Time, Hylia, of which I am but a mere fragment of. My name is usually Zelda, of the Hyrule Royalty. Though usually the second way triggers when I am a princess. The Second is applied to me and The Hero of Courage, so long as we exist so too will the Curse of Demise. Demise was a Demon God in your tongue back in my first life. This contributed half of my reluctance to making you my hand puppet, the other half was of course morality.”

“The Third way I am Soul Bound is to the Triforce, a wish granting artifact given to Hylia by the three Golden Creator Goddesses. Though unless you have an equal amount of Power, Wisdom, and Courage in your soul then it will split into the three pieces. I am the Wielder of Wisdom. I have sensed the Triforce of Power close to our position (within national borders) but strangely untainted.” Zelda lectured. “Ganondorf Dragmire is always the Wielder of Power but constantly gets overtaken by Ganon, his personification of the Curse of Demise.”

“So by untainted, you mean Ganon is weaker and/or suppressed by whoever holds Ganondorf’s soul?” Renner asked,

Zelda nodded. …somehow.

“So where is Courage? Is Gazef or Lakyus Courage?” Renner asked.

“No. But it is inevitable that we will cross paths with Courage.” Zelda said. “Especially if we tackle the Eight Fingers. But before we can start dealing with that …mess, we need resources. The first lessons help with those problems. First we set up a Power/Energy cycle to create an environment for reagents to grow. We do that by manifesting our own Power as tokens (Rupees for my previous World and Gold Coins for this one) thus stimulating the economy and the ecology.”

“So we’ll be able to boost our fighting ability and hopefully draw in Ganondorf, right?” Renner asked.

“Yes, but mostly we’re doing this for the fighting ability.” Zelda said. “This is the only way to get our troops up to par in your lifetime at this development level.”

-Courage-

“HALT IN THE NAME OF THE LAW!” Shouted a guardsman chasing after a thief.

The thief dodged and weaved through the market as the cops desperately wadded through the masses. A boy with the strange name of Climb only had a second to react before the thief reached him. Climb purposely stuck his leg out, tripping the thief.

The thief tried to stab Climb as he fell but the thief was inexperienced and thus easy to dodge. Climb stomped on the knife-holding wrist, forcing the thief to let go.

“Thank you for your help, kind citizen.” Said one of the guards.

Climb nodded as the guards picked up the thief. On the thief’s right arm was a small tattoo of a eight fingered hand.

“That was definitely a criminal symbol..” A small part of Climb whispered after Climb had returned to his home.

Climb looked around his hovel.

There was a zombie-ghost knight standing in his doorway, Climb jolted upwards as he grabbed his sword and …exhaled? Climb blinked, took a deep breath and exhaled for the guards again.

The zombie walked closer and shook its head.

“I am sorry, but I am borrowing your voice to speak.” The small part of Climb whispered in his mind as the zombie flapped its lips. “Throughout the eons I have lost my voice one way or another. Some from a simple vow of silence, others lost in battle.”

Climb clicked his tongue, straightened his back, and charged the zombie. The zombie smiled as it easily deflected Climb’s untrained blow, raised its rusted circular shield to catch the boy, and twirled to send the boy crashing into his bed. …though a feather-like barrier prevented any damage from occurring to the room.

“As for alerting the guards to my presence after I leave.” The zombie shook its head once more. “They will only declare you insane and punish you for wasting their time. We are leaving no evidence after all.”

Climb stood back up, gritted his teeth, before he charged once more, this time ducking underneath the zombie’s deflection blow. Climb’s sword scraped against the zombie’s chestplate, Climb could still see the zombie’s smile through the sparks. The zombie dropped its sword, which dissipated into golden sparks, and grabbed Climb by his shirt’s collar. Which brought him to eye level with the zombie.

“If I am born again, that means this nation, if not the entire world, will need our presence on the royal stage.” The zombie red eye glowed. “Judging by the low energy levels, we have a breathing period of a few years, maybe nine, maybe six, or maybe even 3. I can not tell through your senses, but something is building to a crescendo, so from sunset to midnight I will be training you. Do not worry, the space I naturally generate around me will not negatively impact any other training you will undergo, and you will have the full stamina as if you rested from sunset to sunrise. Either way, that criminal organization will generate practical experience.”

Climb futilely sliced and punched the zombie’s hand. It was only after the zombie had finished its monologue that it let Climb fall on his ass.

“I am the Hero’s Shade from another world and I will not let this world fall.”

---------------------=======================

First draft below, revised as a blooper.

Princess Renner of the Re-estie Kingdom called her personal Knight Climb and her (basically personal) Adventurer’s group Blue Rose to her chambers. Lakayus placed a tray of food and drink on the table Climb carried in. Gagran pulled in seatings around Renner’s bed while Evileye, Tina, and Tia secured the room.

Renner waited for her friends to finish their tasks and sit down. “This will be shocking but this is not my first life. Nor even my thousandth.”

The others blinked in confusion.

Renner smiled and held up her hand with the back to them. Then clenched it revealing 3 golden triangles in a triangle formation, strangely only the bottom left triangle was actually filled in. “To summarize literally millenia, I am the Fragment of the Goddess Hylia that is (or was) Incarnating through the Royal Bloodline of Hyrule. My most common name was Zelda.” Zelda? Renner? Unclenched her fist and the triangles disappeared. “Despite dedicating this Lifetime (up to this point) to searching, I haven’t found Hyrule nor any other nation I know of. The species that formed said nations are also gone, save the Hylians though you call them Elves.”

“So why haven’t you run off to the Elves then, if you spent so much time as one?” Gagran questioned.

“I was born to this royal family, thus I will dedicate at least this lifetime to this nation.” Renner answered while folding her hands on her lap. “Besides, this rare chance will help with my inter-species diplomacy.”

Lakaysus nodded in understanding. “What were those Golden Triangles?”

“That was the Triforce, a wish granting artifact if all three pieces are assembled.” Renner rubbed the hand the Tri Force appeared on. “Hylia tasked her descendants to protect it while She maintained Time Itself, I like many Zelda’s before me have the Tri Force of Wisdom. While the most obvious function is better magic and bigger mana pools, it also allows me to consult The Past. Whether that means the Past Incarnations of Hylia or the Past Incarnations of the Spirit of The Hero or simply the Past of the World Around me. Previous Zelda’s have used the World Bit to question where Monsters laid and where Armies are Marching.”

Evileye snorted with annoyance and deep satisfaction. She waved away the room’s attention.

“No wonder Ganondorf was so mad that Malice started spawning.” Climb shook with laughter. “And how you kept directing me to the needed spots.”

Evileye suppressed a twitch. While Renner pulled Climb into a hug, Climb held up his clutched fist to the room. Showing that the bottom right triangle of the Tri-Force was filled in.

“I was named Link in quite a few Lives, nearly all of them preferring to stay silent for one reason or another.” Climb said after untangling himself from his princess. “Other than that weird time with the Falling Moon, I was Hylian as well. Specifically Zelda’s personal Knight in a good number of them.”

The ninja twins giggled. “History repeats itself-” “-Yet Again.”

“So what does your Tri-Force piece do?” Evileye asked.

“I don’t have a normal body. Instead of a wound and bleeding, any and all damage is done to my ‘Hearts’ which I can increase in numerous ways.” Climb explained. “I can also see other things Hearts, like other Hylians, the various Forces of Ganondorf, and items. For items I can also see how much damage they can output in Hearts. And most recently it allowed me to speed up while attacking if I Dodge Perfectly.” Climb shrugged. “How that equates to Courage, I will leave Renner to contemplate.”

Renner sighed. “If you are here then that means the Entirety of the Tri-force was summoned to this world.” Renner and Climb groaned.

“Well this time there are no guardians for Ganondorf to take over.” Climb consoled. Renner nodded.

“I’m guessing the Third Holder is an Enemy to Hyrule?” Gagran asked.

“Not just to Hyrule but to the entire world, many lifetimes the nations banded together because of his evil.” Renner said. “Sometimes even his species the Gerudos themselves joined the Grand Alliance. Though the largest (and smallest) alliance was our previous one. Where Ganon subverted all of our Kingdom’s defenses in an hour, turning them against the citizens. Link had to be taken to a place of healing for a century while I trapped the now Calamity ganon inside Hyrule Castle.” Rebber hugged herself and looked downwards to the side. “I don’t know if I can do it again so soon.”

“Well hopefully Ganon is trapped between worlds or something.” Climb rubbed Renner’s back. “I certainly felt him resisting the Extreme Summoning Magic, so either he's trapped in a worldless void or somewhere far off.”

“Nope.” Evileye countered. “It was C, the distant past.”

“Of course.” The others muttered. “We should have seen that one coming.”

“I was just following the Rainbow Eyes naming practice.” Evileye said. “Unfortunately before I could make any lasting changes to that kingdom, Dragonic magic fell and turned everything undead. Of course since I was the only thing left alive. ...or well left with my sanity, I was quite unfairly blamed as the Root of it.”

Lakayus tapped her chin. “Undead kingdom?” She frowned before jolting upwards. “You are Landfall?!”

“Yep.” Evileye shrugged. “Still haven’t found that Dragon, I hoped to bring it on my next conquest of Hyrule but that Summoning Magic User seems very far away. Even if they do cast their spell once a century.”

Renner looked at Evileye’s tiny body. “You waited ten years before enacting any changes?” She crossed her arms. “I really doubt you have that much patience.”

“I said Lasting Changes, or do you need to Consult the Past to remember not five minutes ago?” Evileye condescended back. “I’ve been imprisoned for centuries, so a mere ten years was nothing.”

“If you have been doing this for literal millenia, why not try a political marriage?” Gagran asked.

The Tri Force wielders facepalmed. Or in Evileye’s case, maskpalmed.

“Nobu did have a political marriage but with the Sheikah, forming the modern day Yiga Clan.” Evileye remembered. “But alas even if I wasn’t Incarnated during that Century, the Curse of Demise once again struck. Demise Cursed the Hylian Royal Bloodline and The Spirit of the Hero to be forevermore struck by strife. Usually by yanking me towards blind hatred towards Hyrule, completely ignoring the valid complaints of Little farming land or not sharing the Sheikah Advancements. In favor of BURN! MAIN! KILL!”

The room jolted as Evileye suddenly shouted.

“That got extremely annoying after the First Hour. In the First Lifetime.” Evileye giggled. “And now I don’t hear the yelling anymore.”

“So that's why you never used advanced tactics like using Lynels backed up by Wizzrobes.” Climb pondered. “Wait can you still create Monsters?”

In response a red Goblin-like creature rose out of Evileye’s shadow, waved to everyone and sank back in. “If Calamity Ganon was good for one thing only, it was to further my Monster Creation/Corruption Skills.”

“Did the Bathurth Empire get the brunt of Demise’s curse?” Climb asked.

============

Second Draft Below:

Link and Zelda looked through the caverns below Hyrule Castle. There they found the source of Malice and potentially Sheikah Energy. A dehydrated corpse with bright red hair and bronze skin. A corpse who snapped its- no His neck to stare at the Princess of Wisdom and the Knight of Courage in their current incarnations. The unending tendrils of Malice coiled but before the Malice Tendrils struck, all Three Chosen of the Goddesses felt a tug. On their souls and their Triforce Pieces.

A portal of shimmering Platinum appeared at the top of the cavern. The Oldest Part of Zelda, the Princess of Sky and the Closest to Hylia, knew that the Platinum Portal wasn’t in any of the Goddesses or Demise’s Domains. Tendrils shot from the portal and attached to the Triforce Pieces before straining to detach the Pieces from their bearers.

The King of Power and The Curse of Demise’s Main Victim ...Did not agree. Dehydrated and drained of energy for millenia, the King of Power couldn’t manifest enough strength to shatter the Extreme Summoning Magic. Luckily for the tripartite existence, He didn’t have to.

The Princess of Wisdom and the Knight of Courage were unprepared for the strength in the tendrils and the bonds between Eternally Chosen and Triforce Piece were unbreakable. Thus Link and Zelda were sucked into the portal, though it was fragmented by Power’s rage.

Unfortunately for whatever dwelled on the other side,

You who possess the blood of the Goddess and the Soul of the Hero shall forever be unable to escape from this curse!

The Last Words and Curse of the Demon King Demise activated once more. Propelling Ganon and Ganondorf Dragmire into the portal.

Of course a trans-dimensional portal is finicky business.

=====

An: I got the title from Natewantstobattle’s Evil King Song. Inspired by the Ocarina of time game. As a whole the Triforce got a Nickelodeon Avatar the Last Airbender/Legend of Korra style Reincarnation Method. Where you can ask your past lives for advice.

I am unsure if Renner should have access to the Bow of Light and Light Arrows, Climb with the Master Sword and Hylian Shield (summoning them from the Courage Piece/his Soul) by the time Nazarick rolls around, I do know however, Evileye only has access to the regular enemies in Monster Creation and all items in BOTW. So no Blights or Divine Beasts, no Zant. no Dark Links. etc. hesitant on if she could handcraft new specialized monsters/bosses. The blights in lore were purpose made to counter the Champions. At least by the time Nazarick rolls around.

I don’t know if Evileye will be able to mass produce the minions at the Hyrule Warriors level or the standard BOTW level. Hyrule warriors because I've often heard that Overlord is a Musou/Dynasty Warriors type story. Though the designs are the BOTW incarnations.

First Blood goes to the Overlord. Because I don’t want a bog standard Zelda Cycle (Like Nazarick plopped into existence in Ganon’s Razing Path to Hyrule) but in Overlord’s New World. It's a different world so different things should happen.

If you want to see a ‘Zelda Marries Ganondorf to break the cycle’ congrats, there’s a loooooooong comic about that: its called A Tale of Two Rulers by FigmentForms on Tumblr and a decent chunk of it is dubbed by Starbot Dubs on youtube.

ch2:

=Power=

The Invernia castle had seen better days. There were malformed goblins and trolls infesting the castle and surrounding lands.

------------

Evil eye overheard her leader’s delusions.

“Shall we make her delusions fact?” Ganondorf asked.

=Wisdom=

Yellow light swirled inwards, collapsing from a room sized mass into a small handful of Gold Coins. One side had the symbol of the Triforce and the other side had the symbol of Re-Etize.

=Courage=

#Story Prototype #Overlord #legend of zelda #my writing #may get rewritten

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bluejaem · 3 years

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7 THINGS — J.JH

❝ The seven things I like about you. Your hair, your eyes, your old Levi's. When we kiss, I'm hypnotized. You made me laugh, you made me cry, but I guess that's both I'll have to buy. Your hand in mine when we're intertwined, everything's alright. I wanna be with the one I know. And the seventh thing I like the most that you do. You make me love you. ❞ — ♫ 7 things by miley cyrus

↳ PAIRING — jaehyun × gn!reader

↳ GENRE — tooth-rotting fluff lmao, slight angst in the end, post-break-up!au

↳ WORD COUNT — 2.16k ; « 8 min »

↳ WARNING/S — a kiss, mentions of food at one point, like one curse word ig

↳ PLAYLIST — paris in the rain by lauv :: fly away with me by nct 127 :: king of my heart by taylor swift

↳ A/N — perhaps I fell in love with jaehyun while writing this fjsnfjdjf. low-key plagiarised some of my own works while writing this lMaO. Anyways, I just hit my 3-month mark with this blog on this hellsite. So this is a celebratory work ig?

↳ SYNOPSIS — Sure, he broke your heart. But you still weren’t over him. No matter how much you tried, he was the only one in your heart.

And here lie the 7 things you love about jaehyun.

the first thing — your eyes looking in mine

“Ooh, do you remember this one? We took this on our first ever date. You were so cute then — not that you still aren't—” you pulled out the polaroid picture of the two of you from the album and showed it to Jaehyun, who was sitting beside you.

But he turned out to be staring at you.

His eyes were like an empty canvas, gradually being painted with love after every moment that passed. His eyes were always gentle. They looked at you with a softness you had never encountered before. The gaze that was filled with nothing but warmth and fondness. His eyes that spoke a thousand words at once. With a thousand tales to tell.

You were lost.

Lost in his eyes. For who knows how long. But all that mattered was that he was too.

“What?” you giggled when you saw him smile. “nothing, you're just really endearing,” he gushed.

This statement was soon followed by a shy smile taking over your face. He couldn't help but chuckle at this sight. How you'd always shy away whenever he complimented you. Or how you'd try to be the flirty one, but when he said something next, you'd be the flustered one.

He loved the fact that he still had the same effect on you.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

the second thing — your smile

“hi bubs, and what's your name?” you crouched down to talk to the little toddler holding onto her mother's hand. “I'm Zoey!” the girl replied.

“Hi, Zoey! I'm y/n!” you flashed her your sweetest smile and put your hand forward for a handshake. She returned your smile with the same amount of affection and shook hands with you.

“And this is uncle Jaehyun,” you take Jaehyun by his hand and make him crouch down beside you.

“Hi, Zoey! That's such a pretty name!” Jaehyun cooed with delight. “Thank you,” the girl giggled, and you did too.

The way his smile grew wider, the dimples making an effortless appearance. He adored you so much, and you had no idea about it.

“Bye!” you waved Zoey and her mom goodbye and turned to look at a smiling Jaehyun.

His eyes, his lips, and his spirit all at once smiled at you. He paints a ray of sunshine all over his face. His smile lights up your world — always. His smile was one of happiness growing, much as a spring flower opens. You could see how it came from deep inside to light his eyes and spread into every part of him. In his sweet smile is all the love you'll ever need.

And there you went, falling for him all over again.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

the third thing — your hand in mine

“Do you trust me?” he asked as he finished tying the black cloth on your eyes.

“with my life,” you replied, feeling the soft fabric of the clothing on your eyes.

“Well, then,” he smiles, taking your hand in his as he leads you to a surprise that awaits you.

The warmth of his hands penetrating through your skin. The way your hand fit perfectly in his. The feeling of his fingers intertwined with yours was one that couldn't even be described in words.

It felt like holding onto your world at your fingertips and never wanting to let go of it.

“And we're here! Please don't open your eyes until I tell you to do so,” he untied the cloth and ran to the other side.

“Can I open my eyes now?” you snickered because you kind of knew where this was going.

“Yes!” that was the last thing you heard before opening your eyes to a smiling Jaehyun holding a huge card that read, "”ill you be mine again?”

You slowly made your way to him, a candle-lit pathway made just for you. “happy 1st anniversary, love” he gave you a peck on the cheek as he kept the card down.

“you didn't have to do all this?!” you let out a shocked chuckle as you looked at the rest of the decoration. “Now you're making me feel bad that all I did was gift you a bottle of perfume!”

He smiled at your comment and took out something from his pocket. He went behind you, and you felt a cold chain making contact with your skin. He locked the necklace from the back and made you turn to face him.

“Don't feel bad — your presence itself is a gift from heaven above.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

the fourth thing — your ears when you're shy

You woke up to the sound of the sizzling of eggs on the pan. You broke into a big yawn as you sluggishly made your way towards the kitchen.

“Good morning to you too,” he chuckled when he looked at you barely able to open your eyes.

You instantly found yourself smiling when you heard his voice. You walked up to him and hugged him from behind, resting your chin on his shoulders as he continued cooking.

“we're eating eggs again?” you groaned out of boredom. “What did you want to eat?” He snickered.

You wore a sly grin as an idea hits you at the right moment, "I want you.” you whispered in his ear. His eyes slowly grew wide, processing whatever the fuck that you just said.

He turned around — only to see you, a laughing mess. And as soon as you saw that smirk on his face, you knew it was time to run.

“aww, your ears are turning red. What happened, loverboy? Were you flustered because of what I said?” You teased him as you both were waiting for the other one to leave their side of the couch and run.

It was one in a million moments when jaehyun was the flustered one, and you were the one who provoked him to be. And so, these moments really had to be the most memorable ones.

“Jae, no–” you sprinted to your room as he followed you. “Let's not–”

Your legs hit the end of the bed, and the next thing you knew was that you had fallen on the bed and jaehyun got on the bed with you, tickling the life out of you.

“Wait, do you smell that?” you said as you sniffed dramatically. Jaehyun stopped tickling you for a moment, and the look on his face when the realization hit him was honestly the funniest thing you had ever seen. You let out the weirdest chuckle when your heard him shouting in horror,

“my eggs!”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

the fifth thing — your lips when we kiss

"”want a sip?” he offered you his coffee while you were sipping on yours. “How'd you know I wanted to try it?” You let out a soft chuckle while you take his coffee to try.

“I mean, even when you're sipping on yours, your eyes were on my drink. What else should I decipher it as?” he continued walking along with you, smiling when he saw your reaction to consuming his cup of coffee.

You let out a dissatisfied cough after drinking a little bit of his coffee. You hand him his coffee back. “How do you drink that stuff, dude?” you gulped hard, trying your best to get rid of the bitterness by taking long sips of your drink.

“Not like yours is that great,” he said in his cockiest tone in an attempt to provoke you.

You stopped on your tracks, disbelief was written all over your face, “Excuse you, for this is my best buddy!” you scoffed. Well, almost choked, but we won't talk about that right now.

“Then let me try yours—”

“Nope, sorry. And now you've lost the both of us.” Sure, you were fighting like an elementary school kid at that point. But in your defense— yeah, no. You were just being petty, and Jaehyun was just playing along.

You walk ahead of him while he stood there, trying to think of how to get back at you. An idea perks him as he looks at your figure slowly getting smaller the further you walked. He quietly jogged his way towards you, wearing a smug smile on his face.

Oh, dear y/n. You signed up for something you didn't know was about to come.

When he finally caught up to you, he tapped on your shoulder. As a reflex, making you turn around to look at who it was. But instead, you were met with a pair of lips on yours. Not just anybody, but the only guy ever, Jung Jaehyun.

Resistance — was something you were always pretty bad at. And especially when it came to Jaehyun.

No matter how hard you'd try, you always end up giving in. And as a matter of fact, that's what happened then too. He smiled in between the kiss, knowing very well that you had once again given in to him. Your other hand runs through his hair while he pulls you closer to himself, closing any distance between the two of you.

God, you missed kissing him.

He finally broke from the kiss, and started walking, leaving you totally confused. He wore a smile of triumph as he said, "I never liked Mocha anyway," not once did he look back at you before saying that.

For a hot minute, you were pretty confused as to what he meant by that. And that's when you understood that he was talking about the coffee.

You stood there, totally baffled — screaming on top of your lungs while he still kept walking,

“Get back here, Jung gorgeous-ass-man-who-just-tricked-me-like-that Jaehyun!”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

the sixth thing — your voice when you call out my name

“you coming?” you shouted as you got out of the water, walking your way up to where jaehyun was standing. He seemed to have been writing something on the wetter side of the sand.

“And, done!” He presented you with the small surprise he had prepared for you. You smiled when you saw what it was. He took you by your hand, giving it a kiss before making you stand beside him.

“Jaehyun + y/n forever” he read it out loud while pointing at the sand.

The way your name rolled off his tongue so easily, yet giving it its own unique color. It felt foreign but at the same time, it was so familiar and resounded through your whole self. No matter how many times he calls out your name, something about it still gives you a sense of serenity and you could never get tired of it.

“you plus me forever indeed,” you softly said, burying your head in the crook of his neck as you hugged him.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

the seventh I like the most that you do — you make me love you

“This is the last one for today, I promise,” Jaehyun said as you both climbed up the stairs of an unknown building. You both entered what looked like an empty terrace with a bench in one of the corners.

He sat on the bench and signaled you to sit beside him. “We're ready!” he shouted.

You were kind of confused by whatever that was going on at that moment. “For what?” you looked at him. Anticipation getting the best of you when you saw the proud look on his face.

“For that,” he put both his hands forward, pointing at the other side of the terrace, basically the wall.

And that's when the led lights lit up, and you could see some words coming the other way like a long led banner.

He read, “There are days when I feel down, and there are days when I feel joy, but the best part of it is going through it all with — you. I know what I'm going to say next is kind of cheesy, but”

This time he turned to you, reaching out for your hand “— will you be my once upon a time?”

It was like the flower of love bloomed once again. There’s something about him that you find so intriguing. Something to his aura that never fails to bring in pleasant surprises. It was like this weird force of attraction that never failed to make you fall for him all over again — if that was even possible.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

But as history has seen it before, every story has an ending. And the one of yours and jaehyun's was of no exception.

Tysm for reading! Feedback is very much appreciated <33

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eternalsimp · 3 years

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Cursed Fears (pt 2)

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Smut

Word Count: 3703

Warnings: NSFW 18+, Aged up Megumi, mentions of violence, character death, swearing, use of female pronouns and anatomy, angst, slight praise kink, oral sex (f. receiving) Minors DNI.

Author Note: This is a sequel but it can be read as a stand-alone. pt 1 is up on my blog and pt 3 will be posted soon.

Megumi’s POV

Everything was dark and the smell of blood was overwhelming. I couldn’t tell where I was exactly, I knew I was in the domain of a special grade but I was sure I had gone home to y/n. Nobara, Yuji, and I had exorcised a second-grade curse and had called it a night. So where did this domain come from? How did I get here? I could swear I could hear thunder crack every now and then, but I can’t even remember if there was a storm when I was here with Yuji and Nobara. Where was Gojo when I needed him? I stumbled through the darkness blindly before I was met with a sight that made my heart drop.

Sukuna sat lazily on his throne, his red eyes trained on me in a predatory glare, sharp nails tapping impatiently on his temple. “It's about time you showed up, I thought I was going to have my fun without you. Now that you’re here, we can continue.” Sukuna’s mouth pulled into a sinister grin as I stared at the limp figure at the foot of his throne.

“Y/n…” her name came out as barely a whisper, my throat felt like it was closing up. She was at home studying for her statistics class, I know she was. I shook my head violently before pressing the heels of my hands to my eyes. This isn’t real.

“What’s wrong little sorcerer? Not feeling so tough anymore are you? You were so confident you could take me on earlier, so come on, take her back. Until you do I may have to play with her a little bit more, show her that she was never safe from me.” Sukuna reached down and pulled her unconscious body up into his lap. He held her jaw with one hand and turned her face so I could see. I wanted to scream at him not to touch her, or to hurt me instead, but nothing came out. Every part of my body was frozen in place at the sight of her tortured body. Sukuna could see me struggling in his domain and smirked down at me. He slowly dragged his mouth up her throat and to the shell of her ear. “Time to wake up princess, our guest is here.” Sukuna squeezed her throat at the same time he nipped her ear and her eyes flew open to immediately fall on me.

“No, please let her go.” The words finally came but I still couldn’t move. She looked so scared, the person I love most is in danger and I couldn’t do anything about it. I forced myself forward a single step but it felt like I was sinking into the ground. Why can’t I move? “I’ll do anything you want, but please don’t hurt her.”

“I told you what I wanted, I told you to come and get her. Show me just how strong you are.” Sukuna taunted. With a firm grip on my girlfriend's jaw and his other hand traveling down her body, Sukuna was in complete control. I know I can’t use cursed energy or shikigami here or I would risk her becoming collateral damage, but I couldn’t stand still and do nothing.

“‘Gumi, help me.” Her voice was shaking, her entire body trembling. I wanted nothing more than to whisk her away to safety. Her eyes squeezed shut as Sukunas mouth attacked her neck and left dark bruises in its wake.

“Time’s running out kid, I’m starting to get bored.” Sukuna’s free hand began to snake over her legs, dragging his razor-sharp nails over the soft skin there, leaving angry red scratches behind. Tears began to fall freely from her eyes and I tried to force myself forward again to no avail. Whimpers and cries for help begin to fall from her lips faster, and god I feel like I’m in hell. All I can do is watch as she cries out in fear, heart cracking at every sound she makes. Finally, she says something that makes me feel like my heart has been ripped out of my chest

“You did this to me, this is your fault.” My body felt numb at the sound of her broken words. All I can do is shake my head and beg, beg Sukuna for mercy, and beg her for forgiveness.

“Baby it’ll be okay, you’ll be okay. I’m so sorry.”

“You said you would protect me, why did you do this to me?”

“I’m sorry, I’m gonna get you out of here. Please believe me, my love.” I was on my knees before the king of curses now. So close I could pick up on her perfume that smells sickly sweet of roses, but the smell I adore so much was tainted with something else now.

Sukuna clicked his tongue and shook his head. “You know better than to make promises you can’t keep, right?” My whole body was shaking with fear and rage at the curse, but all I could do was bargain.

“Please, I swear I will do anything, just let her go.” I couldn’t tear my eyes away from her, pleading to just see her leave here alive. Sukuna’s nails dug deeper into her throat, drawing blood as it trickled down her neck and chest in small streams.

“I think I’d rather punish you and the brat for trapping me in this vessel. You get to watch as I kill her, and then I’ll switch out with him so he can see what he’s done.” Sukuna leaned down to face me. “This is what happens when self-righteous sorcerers need to learn their place, so don’t blame me for what happens next.”

Fear shot through my entire body at those words. I couldn’t help but scream loudly as Sukuna jerked her head and a loud, sickening crack filled my ears.

I shot straight up in bed as a crack of thunder rumbled through the apartment. My eyes were unfocused as I dragged myself towards the bathroom and a wave of nausea washed over me. I barely made it to the toilet before I was vomiting into it. My knees burned from where they hit the tile but all I can think about was the sound of her whimpers and begs for help ringing in my ears. I was vaguely aware of the shirt sticking to me with sweat as I tried to control my erratic breathing. Thunder cracked again, sounding eerily like the way her neck snapped in my nightmare and I was retching again.

The cycle continued for what felt like hours until I was left coughing and dry heaving. As the panic started to ebb away I noticed the presence of my girlfriend on the floor behind me, running her hands soothingly over my back, and lightly pressing her thumbs into my spine. She had her knees on either side of my waist and was resting her head between my shoulder blades. I reached up to flush the toilet before gently squeezing her knee to let her know I was okay. She wordlessly pulled my sweaty shirt over my head to let the cool air hit my back before lifting herself off of the floor and out of the bathroom.

I shifted my body so I could press my forehead against the hard plastic of the bathtub. After a couple minutes, she handed me a bottle of water and pressed a cold, damp cloth to the back of my neck. “I’m sorry I woke you up,” voice raspy from coughing and throwing up. This wasn’t the first time I had woken her with my nightmares, and I doubt it would be the last. She reclaims her spot on the floor behind me and continues rubbing my back.

“Don’t be sorry, I prefer to be woken up by you going to the bathroom than you throwing up in the bed anyway.” I can’t help but laugh at her teasing and we could both feel the unease begin to fade.

“Yeah, that's a good point. You’re too good to me, you know that?” I moved so that I was leaning back against her chest and she wrapped her arms around my shoulders protectively.

“Nope, I refuse to accept that statement because we are the perfect amount of goodness to each other.” I tilted my head back to rest it on her shoulder before pressing a quick kiss to her neck. I couldn’t help but wonder how I was lucky enough for Nobara to introduce the two of us. It was in the small, intimate moments like these that I knew I would happily go to my grave protecting her.

Reader’s POV

“Okay you know the drill,” you said to him as you held out your hands expectantly. He smiled as he placed both his hands in yours, palm up. You pressed one of his hands to your chest and the other to his so he could feel both of your heartbeats under his fingertips. The first time you did this he scoffed at how cheesy it was, but over the two years of living together, it became common practice for when he was trying to calm down after a nightmare. You didn’t like to press him about the horrors that plagued his dreams, knowing how reserved he was with his emotions, so you found your own ways to comfort him.

“See, we’re both okay. Do you wanna get up to go lay back down or do you need a second?” He shook his head and pulled himself up to sit in front of you again.

“No, I’m okay, but can we do the other thing too?” he asked sheepishly. He turned pleading eyes towards you, and how could you refuse him when he asked so nicely.

“Of course, whatever you need. You or me?”

He took a shuddering breath before whispering “you” so softly you almost didn’t hear it. Your shoulders slumped as that one word told you everything you needed to know. The other practice that became a common occurrence after his chronic nightmares was kissing the other person's phantom injuries. More often than not it was him kissing you, as you were usually the object of his nightmares, like tonight. He liked being able to physically see and feel that the wounds inflicted on you were in fact not real. This nighttime routine often led to some heavy makeout sessions, which then led to very soft and intimate sex.

“Okay baby,” You stand up and move to sit on the side of the bed while he brushes his teeth quickly to get rid of the gross taste in his mouth. While you wait, you find yourself tugging at the bottom of your shorts self-consciously as you shiver in anticipation. After a moment your boyfriend waltzed out of the bathroom and rested his hands on either side of your waist. He bent his head to capture your lips in a slow kiss. His tongue swipes at your bottom lip, silently asking permission to deepen the kiss and you happily oblige him. Your mouths move in a small fight for dominance but a firm hand on your thigh has him easily winning. Your hands trailed up to rest on his shoulders as he took your bottom lip between his teeth and bit down gently.

You gasp softly into his mouth and he brings one hand up to rest at the nape of your neck as he cradles your head protectively. He draws his lips down the side of your jaw, paying special attention to the spot behind your ear that never fails to have you melting into his hands. You tilt your head to give him better access to your throat, allowing him to deliver individual kisses to the spots where you likely had been hurt.

In a swift, fluid motion, he is pulling your tank top off of you and trailing sloppy kisses down your chest and stomach. You lean back onto your elbows as he runs his hands over your thighs, leaving goosebumps in their wake. You let out a shaky breath as he begins to kiss his way up the inside of your legs. “Just relax baby. I’m gonna take care of you.” He punctuated each word with a kiss or nip to the inside of your thighs, and you could feel the arousal pool at the pit of your stomach.

You forced yourself to make eye contact just in time to see a devious smirk grace his features. Before you could question it he is yanking down your shorts and blowing cool air onto your core. You yelp and instinctively try to snap your knees shut. He chuckles lowly to himself before tossing your shorts somewhere behind him. He brings his face back between your thighs to lick a long, hot stripe up your core. You gasp loudly and let your arms give out behind you. He reaches one hand up to where you are clawing at the sheets to intertwine your fingers together.

“My pretty baby is already so worked up and I’ve barely touched you. What a good girl.” He lowers himself back down to lap up the arousal dripping onto your legs before sucking your clit into his mouth. You arch into him and groan loudly which prompts him to hum triumphantly around the bundle of nerves. He moves his free hand down to expertly curl two fingers into you and starts pumping in and out at a steady pace. After a few pumps of his hand, he curls his fingers to find the spot inside you that has you seeing stars.

The combination of his mouth and fingers working you is dizzying and you can feel it pushing you closer to the edge of your climax. He could feel how close you were and began to move with more purpose, determined to make you cum more than once in the night. With the hand that isn’t intertwined with his, you reach down to tangle in his soft hair. “Wait, I- oh shit- I’m gonna cum.”

He removes the hand that was holding yours from you and brings his thumb down to rub circles into your sensitive clit. “Come on baby, I got you. You can cum for me.” He moves his mouth to rejoin his fingers at your slit to bring you closer to your high. A particularly hard press of his thumb has you crying out in pleasure and grinding desperately against his face. He removes his fingers from you and replaces them with his tongue to help you ride out your high. He greedily drinks up your release until you are weakly nudging him away.

“Do you want me to stop?” He looked up at you innocently, which was contradicting when you remembered the things he was doing mere seconds prior.

“No, I just want to feel more of you.” You could feel a hot blush creep up your body at the realization that he was still halfway clothed, while you laid completely naked in front of him. His brain seemed to process this at the same time because he was quickly ridding himself of his sweatpants and grey boxers.

His hard cock thumps softly against his toned stomach when he stood again and you were having a hard time not staring at the man in front of you. He wasn’t bulky, but the muscles that rippled underneath taut skin were nothing to sneeze at. He glanced up and caught your stare, and returned it with a cocky smirk. “See something you like?”

“I sure do,” you flashed an innocent smile as you sat up and palmed his erection. He gasped at your sudden boldness and leaned onto the bed for support. At this proximity, you were able to tug his earlobe between your teeth and bite down gently. “Please baby, I want you so bad.” Those words snap him back into action and he’s crashing his lips against yours again.

He moves you back up the bed and crawls over your body. He braces his forearms on either side of your head and experimentally grinds his hip against yours. You let out a soft “please” that comes out whinier than you intend. You lean your face up to give him a soft kiss before he reaches down to line himself up with you and slowly presses the tip inside. He shallowly thrusts to slowly work into you, mumbling praises against your skin as he moves deeper.

You can’t help but wince at the stretch his cock always brings you, which would border on outright painful if he didn’t feel so good. Your head falls back against the bed, clawing at his back to try to find something to ground yourself. He glances down to where he is buried deep inside you before pressing his forehead to yours. “I know sweetheart, it's almost there. You’re- fuck- doing so good for me,” he reassures as he presses a soothing kiss to your temple.

When he finally bottoms out he stills his hips to let you get comfortable and adjust to him. He takes this opportunity to pepper your face and chest in kisses and returns one of his hands to your neck where it cradles your head. You bring one of your hands to his hair to tug gently before rolling your hips against him, eliciting a breathy moan from him. “You can move baby, I’m okay.”

He nods and gives a couple of slower thrusts before setting a steady pace. He opted for slower deep strokes which made you feel every inch of him as he thrust into you. His thrusts have his cock brushing all the right spots inside you, and all you can do is gasp and moan for him while clinging to his shoulders. “Megumi, please,” you aren’t even sure what you were asking for. The pleasure has your head spinning and unable to make complete thoughts.

You can tell he is getting closer to his own climax because his thrusts are getting progressively faster and he is getting more vocal. “God, baby you’re taking me so well.” He hooks one of your legs around his waist and the new angle lets him hit your sweet spot with every roll of his hips. Your nails dig into his shoulders as you feel another climax approaching, and Megumi picks up his pace again.

“Is my pretty girl gonna cum for me again?” You bury your face into his shoulder and nod. He moves one of his hands to play with your clit to push you over the edge. You arch into him and let out a strangled moan as your orgasm washes over you. You’re sure you’re leaving deep scratches across his back as you grip him tighter. His hips stutter as you clench around him and he gives a few more sloppy thrusts before he’s cumming too with a loud groan. He unconsciously rocks into you lazily as you both come down from your highs.

“Are you okay baby?” He kisses your forehead and strokes your side to try and bring you back to reality. You nod again, not quite trusting your voice yet. He chuckles and slowly pulls out to not overstimulate you. You squirm at the uncomfortable stickiness between your legs but he’s already moving to the bathroom to grab stuff to clean you up.

When he comes back out he runs a warm cloth along the inside of your thighs and quickly over your center, which has you wincing at the sensitivity. When he's done he pulls out a pair of your pajama shorts and one of his loose shirts for you to wear. He helps you slip the clothes on and tugs his boxers back up before climbing back into bed with you.

You stand up to crack open the window next to the bed before laying with your back against his chest. The cool air from the rain seeps into the room and he mutters a “thank you” into your shoulder, surprised that you remember he runs hot for the rest of the night when he has a nightmare.

The clock on the bedside table shows that it's about 5:30 in the morning, so you estimate that he woke up roughly at 4. “Do you feel okay enough to go back to sleep?” You feel him shrug behind you and you scoot closer to him, pulling one of his arms over your waist to lace your fingers together.

“I don’t know. I should but…” you hear his voice trail off and nod in understanding. He always has a hard time falling back asleep on nights like these. He warned you about his chronic nightmares shortly before moving in together and confessed that he’s had them since he started high school at Jujustu Tech. However, you take small comfort in the knowledge that since living together they’ve gotten less frequent, and his reactions to them have become far less violent.

“Will you feel better if one of your shikigami sleeps in here? Just so you know that nothing will happen.” He considers it for a minute before tugging his hand out of yours, circling his other arm around your waist, and folding his hands to summon his divine dog. Its head pokes out of the shadows under the window. You pat the empty spot on the bed and it jumps up excitedly before laying down and letting you scratch behind its ears.

Megumi chuckles behind you and shakes his head. “You just wanted the dog on the bed didn’t you?” He reaches over to ruffle its soft fur as it dozes off.

“Checkmate,” you crane your head to place a kiss on his cheek before settling back against him. “Now will you please try to go back to sleep? I don’t want to nag you but realistically you can’t function on only two hours of sleep.”

“I’ll try but I can’t make any promises you know.” He tucks his chin on top of your head and relaxes around you. You hum in acknowledgment before slowly drifting back to sleep.

#fushiguro megumi #jujutsu kaisen #megumi x reader #jjk #megumi fic #megumi smut #anime #fanfic #megumi fluff #megumi x y/n

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sserpente · 4 years

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A/N: I received two anon requests quite a while ago and decided to keep them because the idea was… hot! I hope you all had some lovely holidays! Enjoy reading! ♥

Words: 2392 Warnings: smut, smut, smut… and a lot of fluff

Additional NSFW warnings: teeny tiny bit of dub-con, depending how you look at it, sleep fucking, cockwarming and forced orgasm (we’re going at it again, my lovelies! Prepare to take a cold shower after this!)

It was not that you didn’t care about the others. It was just that you cared about Loki more. The Avengers knew that—there was no point in pretending you were not selfish in that aspect. Besides, for a very long time, nobody truly seemed to care about Loki before, not until you stepped into his life and threw his emotions into turmoil. You grinned deviously at the thought. Together, you were one of a kind. An inseparable and invincible team against the nine realms.

To begin with, you had been unsure if he would let you win his heart even though he had been unable to deny his own reactions to you. Soon enough, however, Loki had begun courting you—right until this one, fateful night in Norway where he had kissed you under the glooming Northern Lights.

You missed him. More than you could couch in terms. Loki had been away on a mission with Thor, somewhere in the depths of Niflheim for several weeks now. Only a handful of einherjar as well as Valkyrie had accompanied him, the only life sign you received every other day when Thor contacted Tony to give him updates which left you worrying about him most of the time.

Your bed felt so empty without him, so cold. Loki had become the most important person in your life in such a short time period it almost scared you.

“Good evening, Miss (Y/L/N),” You looked up to the ceiling when you heard FRIDAY’s electronic voice ricocheting through Loki’s and your room. “Mr Stark has asked me to let you know that Thor and Loki have just returned from their mission. They are—” The AI was unable to finish delivering its message. You had already bolted through the door regardless of the fact you were already wearing your pyjamas.

Thor was sitting on the sofa in the middle of the massive living room, his dirty boots staining the soft carpet to his feet and his precious hammer resting on a cushion by his side. Frantically, your eyes scanned your surroundings. Loki found you first, greeting you with a mischievous smirk as soon as you laid your eyes upon him.

“Finally…” You dashed forward, throwing yourself into his arms. The God of Mischief grunted from the galvanic impact, making you push him an arm-length away from you with a concerned expression on your face.

“Are you hurt?!”

“No… just… exhausted.” He leaned his forehead against yours, pressing you tightly against his body despite the heavy tiredness in his limbs. Thor was taking all the credit, as usual. There were always two sides of a story and the Avengers, whenever the Asgardian brothers were involved, only ever cared to acknowledge Thor’s version.

“Did everything go well?” You asked him with a quiet voice all the while ignoring the heated conversation Thor had started with his rumblings about war, battle and triumph.

“There were minor complications. We had the element of surprise.”

You nodded thoughtfully. “Tell me the details tomorrow. You should rest, my king.” Loki smiled in response.

“Not just yet…” He mused. “First, let me show you how much I missed you, my sweet pet…”

Your loins caught fire the moment his hot breath brushed against your ear, promising a night filled with pleasure and passion. You clung on to him, desperately, as he lifted you up like a bride and carried you back to your shared room.

“But I do have to admit that we couldn’t have done it without my brother this time.” Thor said in just that moment. “Right, Loki?” He looked up, searching for him, but he was already gone. “Loki?”

His mouth came crashing down on yours before you had a chance to feel the ground under your soles again. Loki gently put you on the bed and threw the covers back, his lips never ceasing to explore yours. You could practically taste his longing for you, that burning desire setting your skin ablaze. Adrenaline from battle and violence still cursed through his veins, your willing body and mind an anchor to his aching soul.

His greedy hands dived under your thin shirt, caressing your naked skin. Your back arched when his fingertips reached the underside of your breasts, your nipples already hard and awaiting his touch. You whimpered—a soft sound urging him on to take from you what he needed, only to return more bliss to you than imaginable. Loki was a gentle lover, considerate. He took pride in how often he could make you quiver and moan underneath him before he sheathed himself deep inside your demanding quim.

Soon enough, he occupied himself with your knickers, his long digits travelling over your abdomen all the way down your body so slowly you shivered from the anticipation until he reached the hem of the thin fabric. He took his time sliding them off of you until you could kick them out of bed. You sat up, if only for a brief moment to get rid of your shirt. Loki eyed your body hungrily, taking in every single inch you so willingly presented to him. When you lied back down, bucking your hips already eager for his body to join with yours, an animalistic growl escaped his lips. Loki attacked your neck with a ferocity which made you tremble beneath him. His hands barely managed to free his aroused member from his dark leather trousers as he nibbled and suckled on your sensitive skin, determined to leave passionate love bites all over you to mark you as his. You would never belong to anyone else.

Breathing heavily, you dug your fingernails into his shoulders. More. You needed more, so much more.

“Loki… take all of your clothes off. Please… I want to feel you.” It was a silent plea, one Loki found himself unable to resist. There were, after all, certain perks of wielding seidr. His armour all but melted off of his body, along with, so you presumed, the dirt and sweat from exhaustion and his recent fights. A moan escaped your lips when his now naked skin touched yours, removing the last ounce of distance there had still been between you.

He was already hard, leaking precum from the pink tip. You longed to give his impressive length a long lick, tasting his arousal as much as he could taste yours when, without any forewarning, he thrust two of his long fingers into your leaking core and curled them just where you needed it the most, testing your wetness.

You were more than ready for him. Loki usually had you on the verge of madness the moment he kissed you, all your worries and sorrows drifting away from your troubled mind. This night was no different. In this very trice, you were his and he was yours. There was no one else.

Loki was demanding in the way he made you spread your legs to position himself between them, stretching your wet entrance inch by inch as he penetrated you to the hilt. Neither of you failed to cherish the moment as he shifted most of his weight onto you in an attempt to get as close as physically possible. He leaned his forehead against yours once more, his warm breath brushing against your moist lips. Only when you wrapped your legs around his hips to impel him did he retreat almost entirely and buried himself back inside you. His pace was steady, intimate. This wasn’t just passionate fucking—this was gentle and tender love making between two people who loved each other. Loki’s pelvis grinded against your clit with every powerful thrust, your breasts bouncing with the impact. It was a mesmerising sight, to say the very least. How could he resist not kneading them, caressing them and cupping them softly, one at a time? His thumb interchangeably rubbed over your hardened nipples, sending shockwaves of arousal through your entire body—they gathered right between your legs, promising release. You needed just… a little more stimulation…

Another, needy whimper escaped your lips when you felt his other hand sneaking down to where your bodies were joined, his teasing fingertips finding your clitoris with ease. He was panting, capturing your lips in another chaste kiss as he picked up his pace and prodded into you harder and faster, his fingers still massaging your sensitive bundle of nerves until he had you right where he wanted you—on the brink of orgasm.

“I can feel you tightening around me, pet…” He grunted hoarsely. A hearty moan accompanied by his name was the only sound you managed to utter in response. “Cum… cum for me.”

So you did, his soft command a dizzying invitation. Over and over, his name rolled over your tongue, echoing through the room. Your fingernails dug into his hips, wanting him even deeper inside you as your orgasm tore through you, setting fire to every cell of your body. Your toes curled, your back arched, your hips kept bucking up to meet his thrusts…

“Yes…” Loki hissed blatantly. At loss for more words, he began rutting into like an animal—like a tiger that had been caged and now pounced on its first willing victim. His hard cock, desperate for relief now, throbbed, pulsing against your tight walls. With a low grunt, Loki spilled himself inside you, filling your still quaking and contracting cunt until his warm seed dribbled down your inner thighs, tickling your sweaty skin.

His stamina never ceased to impress you—and he did not content himself with claiming you just once. No. The majority of the night had passed by the time you almost passed out from exhaustion, even more so than Loki after returning from his mission. He was more than compensating and making up for the time he had been away from you.

It was dark when you awoke again, your eyelids fluttering open only to be met with utter darkness. What was it that had so rudely ripped you from dreamland? It must have been in the middle of the night. Surely Loki had switched off the light with a simple wave of his hand after your passionate love making. And all too soon… all too soon you realised what was happening.

Loki was lazily thrusting into you again, whispering sweet nothings into your neck. His right hand was cupping your breast possessively, his thumb stimulating your hardening nipple.

“Oh… oh, fuck…” You moaned when he circled his hips, his pelvis grinding against your clit in such a delicious manner it fuelled your own arousal climbing up into dizzying heights within a matter of seconds. You were still wet from your passionate love making, remembered, after being taken times and times again and after clenching and cumming around his cock, letting wave after wave of pure bliss wash over you, and you recalled begging him groggily.

“No… Stay inside me, please.” You had fallen asleep with him still resting deep inside you, softening slowly. Loki had been unable to deny how wonderful it felt to have your warm cunt envelop and warm him for the night. He was slumbering soundly now—and he was… dreaming. Dreaming of… claiming you again? You bit your lower lip when his thrusts intensified.

“L-Loki? Wake up, my king…” You realised quickly he had a very deep sleep. Without ever opening his blue eyes, he rolled fully on top of you for better access. You tried to move your arms to control his vigorous rutting but found yourself paralysed, your eyes widening when you noticed. You could not move a limb. What… what was he dreaming? Had he bound you in his very own world? Tied you up with silk rope like he sometimes did in a conscious state? Shifting just a little, you raised your hips up against him. Loki had rendered you completely helpless, ravishing you intimately without his knowledge… and even though it scared you a little—so utterly at his subconscious’ mercy—you found yourself growing more and more aroused.

“Loki… I can’t move… Loki, wake up…”

Loki was not even touching you and yet… yet with a start, it almost felt like invisible fingers were stroking your clit, gently pulling an orgasm from you. Without a doubt, the God of Mischief was using his wicked seidr as he took his release from you. He played your body like an instrument, face buried in your neck and plastering wet and seducing kisses all over your skin.

He grumbled, eyelids twitching slightly. Finally, his blue gaze met yours in the dark, still drowsy and sleep-drugged.

“Oh God…” You moaned, too close to orgasm to grasp a proper thought.

Even if you had wished to, there would have been no stopping him from forcing you to climax for him. Muttering his name when pleasure took control over your body, you threw your head back, your tight walls clenching around him rhythmically, milking him for all he was worth. Loki came, too. He moaned quietly, sheathing himself as deep inside of you as physically possible as he marked you with his warm seed yet again, his manhood pulsing and jerking against your wet cunt.

The dark room was filled with nothing but your rapid heartbeats and your heavy breathing for a while. You were still quivering from your own high, your pussy barely contracting around his slowly softening member when he suddenly chuckled softly in his post-orgasmic haze, fully realising now what must have happened.

“My… it seems that even in my sleep, you are still utterly defenceless against me, my sweet pet.”

You groaned—though your half-hearted complaint sounded more like another eager moan. You could not deny how exciting it had been… and you certainly wouldn’t mind if it happened again.

“I’m glad you’re amused…” Raising an eyebrow, you landed a weak slap against his upper arm.

Loki chuckled once more, rewarding you with another lazy stroke. “You enjoyed it.” He stated matter-of-factly. “You were writhing underneath me and you are positively dripping wet…” His smirk sent pleasant shivers up and down your spine. He was already getting hard again, you could feel him twitch slightly inside of you. A devilish grin spread on your lips.

“Shut up and kiss me.” It was a wish Loki could never turn down before.

A/N: Check out my blog to find more Imagines and take a glimpse at my first (to be) published novel! If you enjoyed this story, I would appreciate so much if you supported me on Kofi! ko-fi.com/sserpente ♥

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gretavanfanfic · 4 years

Text

Room 419

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x (F) Reader

Word Count: 7200ish

Warnings: Smut! 18+ only

Summary: You and Jake are tricked into sharing a hotel room by your friends following their wedding.

Being a maid of honor in a wedding is no small feat. While you were flattered that your best friend had asked you to stand next to her on her big day, you quickly found out that it is a demanding and expensive role, and it has left you feeling overwhelmed more than a few times over the past couple months. Therefore, when she and her then-fiancé told you that they would book your hotel room for the night of the wedding, you were more than happy to let them take that responsibility out of your hands. It would be one less thing to worry about on a sure to be hectic day.

Maybe this was your mistake, but you were fully expecting them to book you your own room. Or if not your own room, you figured they may have paired you with one of the other bridesmaids. You’re not particularly close with any of them, but you would be fine for one night.

What you were not anticipating was having to share a room with the best man.

So when the reception comes to an end and you insert your key into the card reader for room 419, ready to shower off the day and crawl into bed, you're shocked to see that a body is already occupying the mattress. More specifically, Jake Kiszka’s body.

His brown shoes have been kicked off near the door and he’s still clothed in his navy dress pants, but his white shirt is fully unbuttoned, exposing his tan chest as he lounges on top of the plush comforter with his phone in his hand. His head pops up when he hears you enter, and while he looks surprised at first, a smirk quickly forms on his lips.

Now, you know Jake fairly well, but you wouldn’t say that you consider him a friend. Acquaintance is probably a better word. Your best friend and her new husband have been trying to set the two of you up for years now, and while you had gone on one date with him in the past, it never amounted to anything. He was very obviously only interested in casual sex, which he offered up multiple times on your date, and he was a bit cocky for your tastes. And while you can’t deny that you were very attracted to him and very tempted by his offer, you were looking for something more serious, so you declined his advances and the two of you never went out again. Since then, you’ve heard plenty about Jake’s various conquests with all sorts of beautiful women, and so you’re not upset with your decision to let it be a one and done sort of deal.

Still, your friends haven’t let up on their quest to get you and Jake together, claiming that your compatibility is off the charts. Every time you hang out with them and Jake is there, they make remarks about how perfect you are for each other, which you always try to brush off. Jake, however, has fun feeding into their delusion and will frequently make flirty comments to you, ranging from, “Come on, Y/N! Give the people what they want! You heard them, we’re perfect for each other!” to, “You know you want a piece of this, babe. There’s no need to fight it!” You try not to make it obvious that his little jests usually leave you a bit flustered, but he seems to always pick up on your embarrassment anyway. Sometimes it even seems like he’s...proud of the fact that he can so easily ruffle your feathers.

“Well, well, well. Y/N,” Jake says arrogantly from his spot on YOUR bed. “I’m glad to see you’re finally ready to admit that you want me. I have to say though, this is a bit unexpected.”

You give him a small, humorless laugh, but your unease is clear as you question in a somewhat shrill voice, “What are you doing in my room?”

Jake’s smirk turns into a full blown grin as he answers, “Actually, this is my room. Got the key and room number directly from the front desk. You can check if you want.” He points to the key card lying on the dresser so that you can look for yourself.

Wasting no time, you let out a small huff and march over to grab the card that’s still in its paper pocket on the wood surface. Sure enough, the number on it matches the number on yours.

Annoyed at the fact that you now have to pay the front desk a visit before you can crawl into YOUR bed, you frown at Jake’s smug face and stomp out the door and onto the elevator to return to the lobby.

After waiting in line for 10 minutes behind a couple who was checking in, you approach the desk at last and are greeted by a friendly looking young woman who asks, “Good evening, how can I help you?”

Plastering a fake smile on your face, you reply, “Hi, I think I was given the wrong room number. When I went inside just now, there was already someone in there.”

The woman immediately apologizes. “I’m so sorry about that ma’am. Let’s try to get that straightened out. What’s your name?”

You give her your information and watch as she types it on the keyboard, then clicks around on their computer system.

“Okay, I see we have you in room 419. Is that what you were told before?” she inquires.

“Yes,” you respond. “It looks like someone must have made a mistake with the other guest then, because he is insisting to me that 419 is his room.”

She clicks around some more and then states, “Well it looks like your reservation is for two adults. You and a Mr. Jacob Kiszka. We have a note here saying that you would be checking in separately.”

It’s at this moment that your blood begins to boil. In your head, you curse your best friend and her new husband, knowing that they are to blame for your current predicament. Even though they had pulled a few tricks in the past to try to get you and Jake together, you genuinely never would have expected them to go this far to couple you up.

It’s not that you have any particularly negative feelings toward Jake. More than anything, you’re upset that your friends have so blatantly disregarded your multiple refusals to go out with him. You know that they fully believe that they have your best interest in mind, but it still bothers you that they think they know what you need better than you do.

It would be one thing if the room had two beds, but, of course, they purposefully booked one that only has a single king-sized bed. You feel your skin itching with nervousness at just the thought of sharing a bed with a flirt like Jake.

Exasperated, you tell the front desk worker, “That’s not going to work for me. Can you get me booked in another room, please?”

The pleasant woman moves the mouse around some more, and then a frown appears on her face. “I’m so sorry, ma’am, we don’t have any more rooms available tonight. Is there anything else I can do to make yours and Mr. Kiszka’s stay with us more comfortable?”

Blowing out an aggravated breath, you give her a tight-lipped smile and sigh, “No, thank you for your help.”

You hear her wish you a good night as you walk away, defeated. It’s one night, you tell yourself. It will be fine.

When you re-enter room 419, Jake is exactly as you left him, lying on his back, phone in hand. Without looking up he concludes, “So they pulled a fast one on us, eh?” His voice is neutral, not giving away how he feels about the situation at all.

Dropping your bag on the table in the corner of the room, you gripe, “Ugh, yes. I really should have known better than to take them up on their offer. They’re pretty relentless, huh?”

“You’re not kidding,” he agrees. “I might be pissed if they were trying to set me up with any of the other bridesmaids, but I can tolerate you I suppose.”

You give him a dry laugh in response and sit down to rid yourself of the uncomfortable high heels that you’ve been wearing for far too long. Your feet ache, and you release a relieved sigh when you’re free of the painful shoes. After that, you begin digging through your bag, pulling out your pajamas and toiletries and carrying them with you into the surprisingly roomy hotel bathroom.

Beginning the process of de-glamorizing yourself, you start by taking the obscene number of bobby pins out of your hair, then painstakingly run a brush through your heavily hairsprayed tresses. Next is your face, and you have to use multiple wipes to remove all of the make-up that is caked onto your skin.

It’s not until you’re fresh faced and finished brushing your teeth, ready to finally jump into the shower, that you realize that you’re not going to be able to get out of your dress on your own. The zipper is oddly placed on your back and there’s a hook and eye that’s just out of your reach. The other bridesmaids were there to help you get into it this morning, but now the only person available to assist you is Jake. Knowing what your options are, you spend a considerable amount of time attempting to get the garment off on your own, but it is to no avail.

Resigning yourself to the fact that you’re going to have to ask for his help, you trudge out of the bathroom and come to a stop next to the side of the bed that Jake has claimed. At your appearance, he peers up at you from his phone and gives you a curious look.

Spinning around so your back is to him, you request, “Can you help me get this thing off, please? I can’t reach.” For some ungodly reason, you feel the need to show him that your arms are too short to get to the fastenings, and you flail them around helplessly.

Jake chuckles at your demonstration, and then you hear the creak of the mattress springs as he rises from his spot on the bed. You weren’t actually expecting him to get up, thinking he would easily be able to do the job from his lounging position, so your bodies end up uncomfortably close when he stands behind you. You can feel the heat of his chest against your back for just a moment until you shuffle forward a bit to create some distance between the two of you.

Jake begins by sweeping your hair over your shoulder, his fingers delicately brushing the skin on the back of your neck in the process. His touch feels weirdly intimate, and it causes goosebumps to appear on your flesh where his fingertips are. You hope he doesn’t notice.

He doesn’t break the contact between your skin and his as he trails his fingers down your back to the top of the dress. When he reaches it, he takes hold of the seam, and his other hand comes up to smoothly drag the zipper down to its end, right below the band of your admittedly skimpy underwear. As he makes his way back up to the hook and eye, he allows his fingertips to glide up your spine, and you reflexively shiver.

If you weren’t blushing before, you definitely are now. Jake deftly undoes the small hook and the dress falls open, the entirety of your back on display. You feel exposed, and your arms instinctively rise to keep the gown from revealing any more of your skin to Jake’s eyes.

Not wanting to prolong the embarrassing moment any longer, you take a step forward with the intent of returning to the bathroom. Your movement, however, is halted by Jake quietly exclaiming, “Hey, wait!”

Turning your head to face him, you raise your eyebrows and look at him questioningly.

He closes the distance between you again, and his hand reaches up to toy with the piece of jewelry that adorns your neck. In a husky voice, he asks, “Do you want me to take this off too?”

You had forgotten all about the necklace that your friend had given you as a bridesmaid gift, but Jake was right. It was fairly elaborate and would not be comfortable to sleep in, so it would definitely need to be removed. And while you could probably navigate getting it off on your own, you still find yourself nodding at Jake to accept his offer.

Whirling back around, you use one hand to gather up your hair and hold it in a knot at the back of your head, giving Jake easier access to the clasp. Your other hand continues to clutch the front of your gown to your chest, the thin straps not doing much to maintain your modesty.

Jake inches even closer, and again, you feel his body heat against your back. You hate to admit it, but the proximity makes your breathing speed up significantly. With nimble fingers, he grasps the chain and swiftly undoes the clasp, catching the heavy piece of jewelry in one hand.

Dropping your hair, you spin to face him and take the necklace from his extended palm. You look up and see that the smirk from earlier is painted on his face once again. Cheeks burning, you

mumble a shy, “thank you,” before fleeing to the bathroom.

Regretfully, your thoughts drift to Jake while you’re in the shower. Standing under the spray with your eyes closed, you can’t help but visualize his form lounging on the bed in that unbuttoned shirt and those perfectly fitted dress pants, and then that leads you to relive the moment you shared not even ten minutes ago of him helping you out of your dress. Then your imagination runs a little wild and you have to force yourself to push him out of your mind before it goes too crazy.

By the time you’re rinsing the last bits of conditioner out of your hair and turning off the water, the tiredness from the long and hectic day has totally crashed over you. You can barely keep your eyes open as you comb the knots out of your hair and pull on the loose t-shirt and short shorts that comprise your pajamas.

Deciding to forego drying your hair in favor of getting to sleep sooner, you leave your belongings scattered on the vanity and traipse out of the bathroom, rubbing your eyes tiredly. The first thing your eyes land upon once they clear is Jake’s nearly naked form, slightly bent over and rifling through a small bag, his back to you. The pieces of his suit that he was still wearing when you last saw him have been discarded and hung up in the open coat closet, and his form-fitting navy boxer briefs are now the only article of clothing left on his body.

Though you’re ashamed to admit it, you ogle his ass for a good few seconds until he abruptly stands straight up, toothbrush and toothpaste in hand. You’re sure you resemble a deer in headlights when he spins on his heel and catches sight of your wide eyes practically drilling holes into his scantily clad figure. A smug grin tugs at his lips and you quickly avert your gaze to the floor.

Not embarrassed in the least, Jake struts past you and into the bathroom that you just vacated, swinging the door closed with a loud click. A second later, you hear the faucet turn on.

Shaking yourself out of your daze, you flick on both of the bedside lamps and turn off the overhead light on the ceiling, a softer glow replacing the harsh brightness of the room. Even though you don’t appreciate his arrogance, you don’t want Jake to trip and fall on his pretty face when he exits the bathroom because the room is too dark.

You then plug your phone into the outlet next to the bed, and, finally, pull back the covers of the side of the mattress that has not been claimed by Jake. Climbing in, you turn on your side so that you’re facing away from the middle of the bed and scoot yourself almost to the edge, moving around until you’re comfortable. While you’re mature enough that you would never make Jake sleep on the floor when the bed is perfectly large enough for both of you, you do NOT want there to be any unnecessary contact between the two of you in said bed. Hence you confining yourself to a small space as far away from Jake’s side as possible.

Tugging the plush covers up to your chin, you allow your eyes to fall shut, and you are almost instantly overtaken by sleep. Your slumber doesn’t last long, however, because you’re awoken by the sound of the bathroom door opening and Jake padding back towards the bed. Your eyes snap open and you watch him, still clothed in only his underwear, come to your side of the bed and switch off the lamp, then walk to his own side and turn off the lamp there.

The glow of the moon is the only source of light as he lifts up the comforter and plops his nearly nude body unceremoniously between the sheets. He shifts around a bit, then exhales a loud breath when he finds a comfortable position. You can hear the shit-eating grin on his face as he turns his head to you on his pillow and says in a sickly sweet voice, “Good night, sweetheart.”

Too tired to respond, you give him a grunt of acknowledgement and close your eyes, praying you can fall asleep as quickly as you did the first time. It seems like you only listen to the rhythmic sound of Jake’s breathing for a few minutes before you slip into unconsciousness.

⏭

It’s still dark in the room when you awaken a few hours later. You’re lying on your side with your arm in an uncomfortable position, and you can feel the sensation of pins and needles traveling throughout the limb. On top of that, you are entirely too warm, an unidentified heat source attached to your back.

It only takes a few seconds for the sleepy fog in your brain to clear and for you to realize that the source of your discomfort is a body. More specifically, Jake’s body. And not only is he cuddled up against you, he also has an arm thrown over your waist and a leg slung over your thigh, holding you snugly against him. You’re not sure how you ended up like this, but you know that you need to move now. Meer acquaintances do not snuggle like this.

Without much thought, you make an attempt to slip free from his clutches and migrate back to your side of the bed. Jake’s hold on you is so tight though, that you’re hardly able to move an inch. The little bit that you are able to shift, however, has made you acutely aware of the fact that there is something rigid poking your backside, and it twitches slightly as you wriggle against it.

At first, the discovery of Jake’s boner pressing against you has you feeling ridiculously embarrassed. You can feel your cheeks heat up and your breathing quicken, and the combination of your absolute mortification and his body heat has you sweating.

You try again, a bit more forcefully this time, to break free from Jake’s grip, but it is to no avail. Your stirring must disturb him just a little, though, because he emits a low groan from his throat, then uses the arm around your waist to pull you even closer to him.

Quickly, your embarrassment turns to annoyance. You’re annoyed because you wouldn’t be in this predicament if you’d just taken it upon yourself to book your own hotel room. You’re annoyed because you could have asked one of the other bridesmaids to let you sleep in their room, but you decided to just bite the bullet and share with Jake for this one night instead. You’re annoyed because you made it a point to stay on your side of the bed, and you still somehow ended up in Jake’s clutches. You’re annoyed because your best friend and her new husband would have a field day if they could see you and Jake right now. But mostly, you’re annoyed because Jake’s hardness against your ass has your head swimming with thoughts that you definitely should not be thinking, and your thighs squeezing together in search of some sort of relief from the sudden rush of arousal between your legs.

It’s this overwhelming feeling of irritation that leads you to growl out, “Jake,” in an attempt to wake him.

Your efforts result in nothing. Not even a stir. He continues to snuggle you and sleep peacefully.

Raising your voice even more, you slap his arm lightly and bark, “Jake!”

Once again, he does not respond. The man sleeps like a log, apparently.

His lack of a response only fuels the aggravated fire in you, and so you turn your head towards his and shout, probably too loudly, “Jake! Let me go!”

Finally, in reaction to your yelling, Jake’s body jumps and his eyes pop open in alarm. He looks around in confusion for a second and his arm leaves your waist briefly to rub at his still partially closed eyes, but he returns it to the same spot as he questions, “Jesus, babe. Why are you yelling? Go back to sleep.” His voice is gravelly and you watch as he closes his eyes again as soon as he gets the words out.

You balk at both his nonchalance and the pet name he called you. You shouldn’t be surprised at either, but you are.

Squirming against him again, you agitatedly snap, “Are you going to let me go, or do you plan on holding me captive all night?”

From behind you, Jake hums against the back of your head and flippantly states, “I don’t know what the issue is, babe. I’m very comfortable like this.”

You’re positive that, even though he’s hardly awake, there is a smirk marring Jake’s features at your current lack of composure. The thought makes you clench your jaw in ire.

“The issue,” you start, through gritted teeth, “is that your dick is literally poking my ass. Now, let me go.”

Wordlessly, Jake flops from his side onto his back, ridding you, at last, of the arm and leg that were holding you against him. As soon as you’re free, you scramble as far as you can away from him and flip to your back as well, hoping to improve the circulation in your arm that had fallen asleep.

“Please try your best to stay on your own side,” you request tersely. He just hums in response.

Despite being free and more comfortable now, you are unfortunately still wide awake, mind racing and incredibly (disturbingly) turned on. You stare at the ceiling for a while, trying to will away the throbbing of your clit that has only seemed to become more intense since you separated from Jake. You curse him in your head for having this effect on you.

A few minutes pass and you decide to chance a glance at him, curious if he already fell back asleep or is lying wide awake like you. Slowly, as to not raise his suspicions, you turn your head on the pillow to look, and immediately regret doing so.

Neither you nor Jake had thought to shut the curtains before climbing into bed, and the moon is shining particularly bright tonight. Bright enough that Jake’s form is illuminated next to you, and you can clearly see that he is still hard. A sizable tent is present in the thin sheet covering him from the chest down, and he is lying with his arms stretched upward, hands cradling his head, and eyes wide open. He is taking deep breaths, seemingly trying to calm himself down.

The sight does NOT help quell your arousal in the slightest, and you know you need Jake and his erection to vacate the premises before you combust. You know you shouldn’t say the words before they even come out of your mouth, but the suggestion falls past your lips before you can stop yourself.

“Maybe you should, like, go take care of that or something.”

Jake’s head whips toward you. The moonlight reveals raised eyebrows, but then the dreaded smirk appears. Again. You really cannot fathom how he can be so shameless and confident at a time like this.

He takes some time to consider your recommendation, then retorts, “Actually, I was hoping maybe you would help me out…”

A noise that’s something between a strangled cackle and a sputter leaves your throat at his proposal. You give him a look as though he has lost his damn mind, and disbelievingly croak, “Excuse me?!”

Jake is undeterred. “Come on, babe,” he goads. “We both know that the sexual tension between us is off the charts.”

Astounded, you gape at him for a second. The irritation you were feeling replaced by bewilderment. You truly do not know how to reply, and so you stutter out, “I-”

“Please don’t try to deny it,” Jake cuts you off. He sits up, reaches over to flick on his bedside lamp, and turns his body to face you before going on. “I see how you look at me sometimes when you think I’m not paying attention. I see how flustered you get when I flirt with you in front of our lovely friends. And I saw how you reacted when I touched you earlier. You got goosebumps the second I laid my han-”

“Okay, okay, okay,” you interrupt, having heard enough. But Jake’s not done.

“You can’t tell me that you don’t find me attractive, Y/N.”

And he’s right. You can’t say that. Because he’s probably one of the most beautiful humans you’ve ever laid eyes on. And even though you hate feeding into him, you aren’t a liar.

“I never said that,” you resolve, and Jake’s face lights up. “I just think that us hooking up could make things messy. Like, I don’t want to feel awkward if I try to hang out with my best friend and you’re there. Because let’s face it, we see each other all the time. How weird would having a one night stand make that?”

You’re proud of yourself for being able to coherently voice your thoughts and maintain your rationality. As much as your body may want to fuck Jake in this moment, your head is well aware of the implications a meaningless hook up with him would have.

Jake, apparently, does not understand the implications though, because he is staring at you with a perplexed look on his face. “Who said it would be a one night stand?” he asks, and his tone tells you that he isn’t joking.

What does that mean? What does this man want from me?

You involuntarily scrunch your face, then sit up as well. “I thought that was implied,” you admit, skepticism evident. “When we went out that one time, you were definitely more interested in a casual fuck than a relationship.”

Jake laughs and shakes his head. “Y/N, that was literally years ago.”

“And? What’s changed? I’ve seen how many girls you’ve gone through since then,” you counter, not buying that Jake is suddenly ready to commit to one person.

He emits a loud sigh. “Listen,” he begins, running a hand through his mostly straight brunette hair. “I realize my past behavior may be a little...off putting. But I have to tell you, I’ve been pissed at myself for scaring you off ever since that date we went on.”

You’re dumbfounded. It never even crossed your mind that Jake may have regretted how things between the two of you turned out. He certainly never gave you any hints that he was interested in you.

You want to ask him for further clarification, but he speaks again before you’re able to.

“I can tell that you want to ask me a million and one questions, but I really don’t think we need to make it that complicated. I’ll just say this: I like you. And I think maybe we should just...see where things go. No pressure.”

The suggestion is tempting. Especially the sex aspect. Your heat is practically begging for Jake’s touch at this point, the wetness starting to become uncomfortable. But the “seeing where things go” part has you feeling apprehensive.

Does that just mean that he wants to fuck you regularly? Like a friends with benefits situation? Or does that mean that he wants to, like, take you out on dates and be exclusive? You can’t say you would be opposed to that, but he’s being so...vague.

You decide to voice your apprehension out loud. “I don’t know, Jake…” you drawl, staring at the wall behind his head.

Your fingers fidget with the hem of your pajama shorts, a visible display of your nerves, until Jake inches closer to you and takes your hands into his own. He uses his thumbs, calloused from years of playing guitar, to run gentle circles on the backs of your hands as he pleads, “Come on, Y/N, let me make you feel good.”

And you’re ashamed that that’s all it takes for you to give into him, but not even a second passes before you’re mumbling out a quiet, “okay,” and watching a smile, a genuine one, take over his face. Then you’re gracefully (you hope) climbing into his lap and wrapping your legs around his waist. At the same time, your arms find their way around his neck and his wind around your waist, hands settling on your lower back.

Surprisingly, the two of you don’t dive into it right away. For what feels like multiple minutes, Jake just stares up at you and you stare back, both of you breathing heavily through parted lips. The tension in the room is palpable. Your heart feels like it’s going to beat out of your chest, and its pace quickens even more when you become conscious of Jake’s erection, hard and warm and dangerously close to your heat.

Unable to refrain, you look down between your bodies and see just how close your sexes are, only an inch of space and a few thin layers of material separating your most intimate area from Jake’s. And suddenly the room feels 10 degrees warmer.

Spurred on by the sight, you dig your heels into the mattress and use the leverage to drag yourself even closer to him, so that your clothed core makes contact with his covered cock. At once, your nipples harden to stiff peaks and your hips instinctually rock forward.

This motion is the straw that breaks the camel’s back for Jake. A pained groan sounds from the back of his throat and then his hands are gripping the back of your head and he’s pulling your face down so he can fervently plant his lips on yours.

All of the remaining walls you had raised to protect yourself come crumbling down in that moment, and you kiss him back with just as much enthusiasm, consequences be damned. You would never confess out loud to having thought about this moment before, but in your head you think that his kiss is even better than you imagined.

Hands gripping his hair, you allow him to suck on your bottom lip momentarily before thrusting your tongue in his mouth. It tangles with his and you feel tingles throughout your body. But unlike the tingling sensation you had experienced in your arm earlier from lack of circulation, this tingling is actually pleasant. You sigh into his mouth.

Jake’s hands find your waist and begin to explore under your flimsy pajama shirt, all while he continues to kiss you like his life depends on it. His fingers glide up your rib cage to just below your breasts, then back down again, leaving a trail of fire on your skin. Every time he does it, you hope he’ll venture higher, but he never strays from his path.

Wanting nothing more than for him to pay your breasts some attention, you decide to take matters into your own hands. Pulling your lips away from his, you lean back the smallest amount and swiftly yank the shirt off your body, leaving your chest exposed to his greedy eyes. You toss it haphazardly to the floor and revel at the whine that comes from Jake at the unveiling of your bare tits. You feel butterflies in your stomach as he stares at them like they’re the most beautiful things he’s ever seen.

When he meets your gaze again and asks, voice strained, “Can I?” you expect to feel his hands paw at your chest upon receiving your permission. Instead, you’re taken aback by the moist heat of his mouth enveloping your nipple, the suction he applies makes you toss your head back and moan. Loudly.

He works furiously at the tiny bud, alternating between flicking it with his tongue and sucking it between his perfect lips. It feels so good that your hips begin grinding against him on their own accord, your grip on his hair holding him to your chest. You know your underwear is probably soaked by now. Hell, your pajama shorts are probably soaked too. And you should be embarrassed, but Jake is making you feel so euphoric that you simply do not care.

Jake’s hands have moved to your ass, and it’s the small pinch he gives the flesh there that makes you loosen your grip on him slightly and look down at him. He releases your nipple with a small pop and pulls your face down to his again, giving you a brief, but still deep, kiss on the lips. Then, in stark contrast, he starts to trail feather light kisses down your jaw and neck, making his way to your other breast.

The two of you make eye contact as he takes that nipple into his mouth, and your jaw falls open at both the sensation and the sultriness of his gaze. Little whimpers sound from your throat as he pays just as much attention to it as he did to the opposite side.

When Jake’s decided that he’s had his fill of your boobs, his lips move up to your collarbone and he leaves a decent sized hickey on the skin there. You fleetingly think that you’re going to have to cover it up before the bridal party brunch in the morning, but that thought disappears when Jake’s right hand seeks out your lower abdomen and his fingers sneak past the waistband of your shorts.

Much to your chagrin, he doesn’t let them slip into your underwear, instead choosing to rub you through the damp fabric of your panties. As soon as his thumb makes contact with your clit through the material though, you’re practically melting, core clenching in delight at the pressure. You choke out a gasp and allow your eyes to fall closed.

Jake doesn’t find this acceptable though, as he uses his free hand to grab your chin and coaxes, “Hey. Look at me.”

And so you do. You stare into his eyes, pupils so dilated that they are almost entirely black, while biting your lip and grinding against his hand as he brings you closer and closer to the edge. There’s something in his eyes that you can’t quite place, a softness that almost feels like adoration, and it makes your cheeks flush. He has definitely never looked at you like this before.

In what feels like no time at all, you’re dangerously close to your peak. Only a few more strokes of his thumb and you know you’ll be seeing stars.

Then, right when you’re about to explode, Jake’s touch disappears. And while it may be dramatic, you really feel like you could cry from him ruining what was sure to be an amazing orgasm.

You’re about to voice your dissatisfaction, but Jake promptly removes his hand from your shorts and gives you a gentle smack on the ass.

“Lay down,” he demands raspily, patting the unoccupied area of the mattress to his side.

In a rush to have him touch you again, you do as he says and remove yourself from his lap, settling against the fluffy white pillows. You almost allow your hand to fall between your legs and pick up where he left off, but you refrain.

Your eyes follow Jake as he lazily rises from the bed and saunters over to his bag, combing through it until he locates his wallet and produces a foil packet. Before he joins you back on the bed, he shoves his tight boxer briefs down his legs, kicking them to the side once they’re low enough. His erection springs free from its confines, and your eyes immediately lock onto it. From where you’re lying, you can see the pre-cum leaking from the tip, and your mind starts to feel hazy with desire.

You watch in awe as he circles his hand around his cock and gives it a few lazy strokes while he makes his way back to you, bottom lip caught between his teeth. The sight is downright obscene, and so is the noise you make in response.

When he crawls back onto the bed, he settles himself between your legs, and, without pausing, reaches for the waistband of your shorts. Looking to your face for permission, you give him a small nod and then he’s pulling both your shorts and your panties down your thighs and past your calves until they lie forgotten at the end of the bed.

Still on his knees, Jake inspects your nude body head to toe, tongue darting out to moisten his lips. He moves to stroke himself again, but you sit up a bit and reach for him instead, rubbing your palm from the tip of his dick to the base, shivering at the groan he releases from his throat.

He allows you to continue for a few more strokes, clearly enjoying himself, but then he’s batting your hand away, whispering “Not gonna last if you keep that up,” and slithering over your body, trapping your lips in a kiss and taking your breath away.

You’re so caught up in the kiss that it takes you by surprise when his fingers find their way between your legs and he plunges two of them inside of you, alternating between pumping in and out and curling them so that they hit that one magical spot that makes your toes curl. He keeps his thumb busy on your clit, and his actions have you panting into the kiss, little whimpers passing from your mouth to his.

In no time at all, those whimpers turn into full blown moans, and you unintentionally break the kiss as you writhe against him. Taking the opportunity to kiss a path to your ear, Jake playfully bites at your lobe, then whispers, “Shit, you’re fucking drenched. So wet for my fingers. I can’t wait to fuck you.”

By now, you’re desperate for him, wanting nothing more than to feel him inside you, and so you scratch your nails lightly down his back and breathe, “Then do it. God, please.”

Jake doesn’t need any further prompting. Abruptly, he pulls back and reaches for the condom, tearing open the foil and rolling it on his perfectly sized (in your mind, at least) dick as you observe with hooded eyes.

Draping his body over yours, Jake encourages you to part your legs wider, and extends a hand to grip his cock. Teasing you, he rubs the head of his penis over your clit a few times, causing you to hiss. You can tell he wants to shoot you that infuriatingly sexy smirk, but the pleasure of the contact between you has his jaw hanging open instead.

When he does push into you, at last, you both breathe a sigh of relief. His eyes lock on yours as he finds a rhythm, slow and deep at first but gradually increasing in speed and pressure. There’s an undeniable fire between you as he thrusts his hips into yours, filling you and making you moan.

The tender look in his eyes from earlier has returned, and you can’t help but melt into a puddle of pleasure and affection when he grunts out, “Fuck, you’re so beautiful. I’ve been thinking about this for so long.”

He kisses you again, tongue seeking out yours and battling with it, somehow heightening your senses even more. This doesn’t feel like just a kiss though, it feels like Jake is using his mouth to convey exactly how much he likes you, and you’re eagerly responding.

As he continues pumping into you, your hands land on his shoulders, squeezing every time he hits a particularly sensitive spot inside of you. One especially hard thrust has you clenching around him, and Jake buries his face into your neck, groaning deeply. You can tell he’s close because his movements start to become a bit erratic, and thinking about Jake coming has you close to your climax too.

And it’s like Jake can read your mind, because as soon as you start feeling like you need just a little bit more to push you over the edge, he uses his arm to hook your right leg and raise it up, changing the angle in a delicious way. That, in combination with his thumb finding your clit and applying some much needed pressure, has you crying out his name, your orgasm shuddering through you in waves.

He’s not far behind you, giving a few more sloppy thrusts before his face is overtaken by pleasure and he’s cursing, collapsing on top of you.

The two of you lie like that for a moment and catch your breath, his weight fully on top of you and his head resting on your chest, and it’s scary how much you enjoy it. How right it feels. When you do part ways momentarily so that you both can clean up, you feel a strange pang in your heart that dissipates as soon as you’re back in bed and in his arms.

And while a part of you wants to check in with Jake, see how he felt about what you just did, ask more questions about his current stance on relationships, you decide to let it go for the time being and just enjoy the moment. As you cuddle into him and fall back asleep for the few short hours you have left in this hotel room, you think to yourself that, while you’re not thrilled about having to admit to your best friend and her new husband that they were right, you’re more than just a little excited to “see where things go” with Jake.

#Greta Van Fleet #jake kiszka #smut #fanfic #imagine #my writing #greta van fleet fanfic #greta van smut #one shot #greta van fleet fic #jake kiszka fic #jake kiszka x reader #gvf #gvf fic

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wakaoujisenhime · 3 years

Text

Just once - Choso x reader

Synopsis: At a party you get roped up by your classmate Momo to conduct a summoning ritual for a demon she assigns you. Though unwilling, you still comply and do as instructed. Unfortunately for you, the ritual you hoped to debunk as pure nonsense unexpectedly worked out...

tags/warnings: Choso x reader ✅ blood kink ✅ (slight) blood/knife play ✅ (and for the more sensitive readers a tw.) a more or less detailed description of skin being cut open ✅ more erotic than nsfw ✅

A/N: I just needed an excuse to write for my main man Choso and thanks to @seijorhi and her Deal with the Devil collab I found the opportunity! Please enjoy and make sure to check everyone else’s wonderful works out as well!! (〃ω〃)

.wc 5.4k

━━━━☆ ━━━━☆ ━━━━☆

Booming music, colorful and constantly changing LED lights, people who were either drunk or high, in some cases even both, surrounded you. Such a sight wasn’t unfamiliar to you since most university students celebrated their monthly parties in the same fashion. You weren’t a regular participant in these events, but tonight you just wanted to let loose and dance the stress, which had accumulated this past week, away.

After doing what you came for, you went up to the small bar, ordered a drink, and disappeared into the crowd to look for someone you were familiar with. And truly, you spotted two familiar faces in one of the gigantic room’s corners. The pair you were now walking towards consisted of Megumi and Momo. It was truly rare to see these two together let alone see them talking to each other while others surrounded them, but you figured that in such get-togethers nothing was impossible.

“Hi there you two, how are you doing?” you asked the moment you joined their small group.

Megumi greeted you with a small nod and a rather tortured expression that was most likely supposed to represent a call for help, but before you could find out more about that, Momo took a hold of both of your hands and squeezed them slightly as she said: “(Y/N), you’ve got a perfect timing as always! We were just discussing our summoning plan and we needed one more participant, so pleaseee could you do us the favor and join us?”

To clear up your obvious confusion, the black-haired young man explained to you that the group, which surrounded you, had talked about the occult before they reached the topic of demon summoning rituals and eventually ended up wanting to try different ones out themselves.

You found it rather funny that someone like Megumi had been caught up in such a talk, but it wasn’t surprising, considering that he had two tattoos, which resembled some kind of triangular runes on the back of his hands, dressed entirely in black, and had a rather dark and gloomy aura that surrounded him. Though many people avoided him, thinking that he was really scary, you knew that he was one of the nicest people you’ve come across and that his mood was heavily influenced by his rather lively best friends who often embarrassed him in public, just so that he could remain by their side.

Momo on the other hand was notorious for her fascination with the occult and supernatural phenomenons in general. Not only was she always dressed in a stereotypical way for those who shared the same fascination as her, but she also preferred to make it known rather than hide it. Threatening people to curse them if they annoyed or attacked her in any way, openly experimenting on self-made voodoo dolls, and carrying various charms with a questionable appearance as accessories for her backpack were some of her many daily characteristic features she displayed. The two of you weren’t especially close, but you were one of the few who understood her true intentions and beliefs that were hiding beneath her many layers.

“I’m not quite sure if I’m the best fit for this...task, maybe you should pick someone else” you finally said with an apologetic smile on your lips, but the blond simply brushed your refusal off with a wide grin.

“Oh, nonsense! There’s no such thing as the ‘perfect fit’ in stuff like that, anyone with an intention of summoning is enough!”

And with that, you were now one of the participants.

After basically being forced to comply, your group sat at a remote table and discussed the upcoming procedures. Throughout the entire talk, both you and Megumi simply chatted with each other and half-heartedly agreed to anything the others asked of you. By the end of it all, you two were stuck with individual books about the entities you were supposed to summon.

“So, who did you get?” you asked after taking a glance at your own rather thin book.

“Apparently, I’ve been given the privilege to attempt a summon of ‘The King of curses’, what about you?”

You couldn’t help but giggle at the sarcastic way the young man had quoted his book’s title and answered that yours didn’t even have a fancy name like that, and just went by “The Blood Devil”.

The two of you stayed at the party for another half an hour during which you basically complained about your individual lives and then slowly but surely made your way back home…

——

With a somewhat relieved sigh, you remove your shoes from your feet and throw them in the corner of your entryway. Your hands massage the back of your neck slightly while you slowly make yourself on the way to your bedroom. It was no secret that you were fatigued enough to just drop everything and fall asleep right then and there, but your conscience nagged you like some kind of parental figure, whispering one order after the other until you just gave up and decided to do everything the proper way.

After leaving your bag on the chair next to your desk, you quickly get rid of your slightly sweaty clothes and enter your bathroom to take a much-needed warm shower, in hope that it would help you relieve some tension. And it did.

A couple of minutes later you exit the steamy room and start getting ready for bed. Just as you were about to turn off your room’s lights, the book Momo had given you caught your attention. After motionlessly standing in one spot for what felt like half an hour, you cursed your curiosity and took said book out of your bag, and began skimming through its contents.

You didn’t intend to read more than necessary, just the first page which warned you of possible risks should’ve been enough, but the moment you had continued past it, it was as if you couldn’t stop yourself anymore. This book that supposedly held dangerous information on how you’d be able to summon some kind of otherworldly entity seemed like some kind of fairytale collection to you.

The first chapter talked about some kind of man who had made use of a woman and her unborn children, a pretty disturbing and inhuman act that you skipped for the most part. Next in line was a whole chapter dedicated to these nine unborn and mostly undeveloped children, the tragic story of them getting locked up in jars, and how only three of them had managed to gain some kind of stability (if you can even call it that). Finally, the third and last chapter before the entire ‘How-to-prepare-the-ceremony’ segment focused solely on the eldest brother and how he’d successfully escaped his dire fate and had become the being known as the ‘Blood Devil’.

Now that you had reached the end of the introductory phase, the preparations for the ritual awaited you, and even though you hadn’t intended on trying your luck with summoning the same night you had received the book, you decided to just do it as quick as possible so that Momo didn’t feel the need to bother you daily with how far you’d gotten.

Shortly after you had gathered the needed materials and had prepared the requested furnishings for the ceremony. With the booklet in one hand, you once again checked whether everything you needed was fulfilled.

Four candles, a small table, a bowl, a kitchen knife, and some salt...Ok, that should be all

Looking at the items before you, you couldn’t help but wonder whether this ritual had indeed some kind of truth behind it and wasn’t just one of many parodies.

With this slightly uneasy feeling, you once again took a look at the list.

𝙵𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚛𝚎𝚍/𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚔 𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚕𝚎𝚜, 𝚊 𝚠𝚘𝚘𝚍𝚎𝚗 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚎 (𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚏𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚋𝚔𝚢 𝚊 𝚜𝚖𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎), 𝚊 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚋𝚘𝚠𝚕 (𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚏𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚢 𝚖𝚊𝚍𝚎 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚌𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚖𝚒𝚌 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊 𝚟𝚘𝚕𝚞𝚖𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝟹𝟶𝟶-𝟻𝟶𝟶𝚖𝚕), 𝚊 𝚔𝚗𝚒𝚏𝚎 (𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚏𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚢 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊 𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚠𝚊𝚟𝚢 𝚋𝚕𝚊𝚍𝚎), 𝚝𝚠𝚘 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚏𝚞𝚕 𝚘𝚏 𝚜𝚊𝚕𝚝 (𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚏𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚢 𝚜𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚊𝚕𝚝)

For a ritual to have such specific instructions, it’s quite...unusual, isn’t it?

The required items weren’t the only detailed requirements you had to fulfill, secondary things that mainly concerned the atmosphere were also important to consider. Things such as the right room temperature, the dark lighting of the room you’d use for the ritual, the exact sequence of preparing the summoning circle and its unique symbols, and many more were enumerated just below the first bulleted list.

You set your worried thoughts aside, deciding to just humor this ritual and complete it to the best of your abilities, because the satisfaction you’d feel after this summoning ceremony fails despite you doing your best, would be indescribable. And with that, you began preparing everything step by step, double and triple-checking the book for confirmation until everything was ready.

With a sigh of satisfaction, you take a step back to admire what you had just spent half an hour on. You had placed the table in the middle of your room, the red candles positioned on each of its edges, on top of the wooden surface you’d drawn the circle as good as you could with your slightly trembling hand, and lastly, you’d placed the bowl on the floor in front of where you were to kneel with the knife on top of the rim of the receptacle.

Here goes nothing…

You kneeled and put the book beside you. With slightly shaky hands you took the knife and cut a horizontal line along your palm, as expected it stung a little but the pain wasn’t something unbearable. Slightly fascinated by the deep red color of your blood you watched the liquid slowly roll down your hand and drip into the empty bowl, staining its white material. As instructed by the book you poised in that position until your wound started to congeal and that was when you were finally allowed to relax yourself and continue.

Next up you had to pour the collected blood over the salt circle and retrace its lines and patterns as precisely as you could, which you did. Now that this step was done as well, you looked at the completed handiwork and sighed to yourself, dreading the thought of having to clean all of this up later on.

You took another glance at the instructions and couldn’t help but cringe internally at the next and supposedly final step.

Alright then, let’s get this over with…

“With this humble offering I, (Y/N)(L/N), hereby summon thou. Oh, Devil of blood please, hear this mortal’s desperate plea and allow me to bear witness to thyn unique countenances that thee possesses.”

And with this the ritual was complete.

You remained motionless, waiting for something to happen, but everything stayed the same and you couldn’t help but embrace that internal relief inside of you which was silently thankful for the failure.

Just as you were about to get up from your uncomfortable pose and begin to clean everything up, the candles’ flames suddenly went out before your very eyes and without your influence. With slightly wide eyes you scanned everything before you. You knew that you had closed the windows before even starting the ritual, so that eliminated one possible reason and at the same time, the most rational one.

As nothing else happened you decided to simply blame it on your imagination and slight paranoia, but that’s when the faint sound of bubbling liquid ruined that small ray of hope you’d held on to. You slowly looked down at the bowl which was filled with your blood and you could’ve sworn that the deep red substance was slowly rising until it overflowed.

All you could do was back away from the red puddle which was steadily growing and showed no signs of stopping anytime soon.

“W-What the hell is happening?” you asked yourself in panic as your wide eyes observed the way your blood began forming something, or better said, someone.

The mass before you began to take form and it was then that you noticed the knife which was lying a few inches away next to the inhuman heap.

Driven by nothing but adrenaline you began crawling towards it and just as you were about to reach for the blade, something similar to a hand took a hold of your wrist. You jumped back in shock and fell rather uncomfortably on your bottom as you looked up to the blood-covered thing, watching its appearance slowly contort into that of a human.

And there before you stood a tall man with shoulder-long dark hair, a rather tired expression on his face, and his most prominent feature, a dark stripe running horizontally across his nose bridge. His eyes were focused on you for the first few seconds, then he began looking around as if to take in his surroundings.

“Where am I? …were you the one that summoned me? …what is it that you require me to do?” he asked in a monotone voice, not giving you even a second to collect yourself. Your panic didn’t allow you to form any rational thoughts, let alone answer him properly, and all you had in mind right now was to run away from whatever this person in front of you was.

The man watched how pale your face had become and simply stood there motionless, as you sloppily got up and sprinted out of your room’s door. He cast his gaze down to the knife you had intended to pick up and cracked an ever-so-small smile before leaving the room himself.

Meanwhile, you had reached your front door and were hurriedly trying to unlock it, but the multiple bolts and your trembling hands were set on making you fail such a simple task.

When you finally turned your keys for the last time, a big hand slammed the wooden door shut. The weight that pressed against your back made it unable for you to move away, so you simply leaned your forehead on the door in defeat, knowing fully well who had stopped you in your tracks.

I’m finished…

Now that the man behind you had rendered you more-or-less immobile, he decided to take a proper look at you and your body. His eyes traveled slowly along every curve, no matter how small or voluptuous, until something far more interesting caught his eye. Your injured and slightly bloody hand that still bore the cut you had to inflict on yourself for the ritual and even though the wound had begun to slowly close, it was still bloody enough for his preferences.

He removed his palm from the door and slowly let it slide down from your shoulder to your slightly trembling hand. The way his long fingers wrapped around your wrist made you shudder and as if that wasn’t enough, he also had to slowly turn you around so that he didn’t hurt your arm or dislocate your shoulder.

Now that you were facing the man, you couldn’t help but stare directly at him and the way he inspected your wound. His gentle touch contradicted his looks as well as every thought you had about him, but that animalistic glint you noticed in his eyes failed to hide his true nature.

With utmost care he let his fingers glide along the cut and if it weren’t for the unpleasant sting, you wouldn’t have noticed that with this small motion he had peeled off the thin layer of blood, which was trying to close up your wound. Despite your slightly agape mouth, no words were uttered, I mean, how could you?

The man in front of you had reverted that small amount of red crust to its original liquid form and then by some magic turned it into a wonderful red ruby that resembled a bonbon. His dark eyes peered right into yours and didn’t even waver in the slightest as he slowly brought the red stone to his lips, gave it an experimental lick, and finally swallowed it.

D-Did he just…?

Judging by the satisfied expression on his face you thought that he would finally step aside and at least introduce himself or give you some sort of explanation as to what he just did and why, but no. The way he did nothing else and simply waited for some kind of reaction, annoyed you and it didn't take you long to act accordingly.

“Now that you’ve got what you came for, would you mind moving out of my way?” you asked in a rather unfriendly tone, one that completely contradicted your earlier fear of this still nameless entity.

Your behavior not only surprised the man but yourself as well. Summoning a literal demon wasn’t your typical everyday occurrence and yet you couldn’t quite comprehend it. The fear that should’ve rendered you immobile was good to non-existent and you figured it was thanks to his surprisingly tame and innocent behavior, so it was only natural for you to be in the illusion of holding the reins, right?

And that arrogant behavior of yours only escalated further as you managed to push the man to the side and finally get away from your front door.

Being as naive as you were, you turned your back to him and not even a second later your entire body’s movement was shut down. No matter how hard you tried to move your legs, hands, or even fingers, nothing seemed to work - no, on the contrary, it appeared to you that the more you struggled against this seemingly invisible force, the harder it became for you to breathe.

“If you don’t want to collapse and die, you’ll need to seize all of your movements for the time being,” said the lean man in a low voice, and the moment his eyes met yours, you could’ve sworn that the corners of his lips shot upwards for a split second before he continued, “…since you’re already aware of my abilities, I’ll skip most of it and directly tell you the two most important things you’ll need to keep in mind from now on.”

Without waiting for any type of signal that could’ve represented your answer, he closed the distance between you two, and this time he got so close that you could practically smell him. Contrary to your expectations his scent was fairly faint and by no means unpleasant. If confronted with the question of what he smelled like, you’d have to say it resembled that of burning wood.

You watched helplessly as the man showed you the slightly bloody knife you had used for the ritual and that’s when the long-awaited fear suddenly overcame you. With widened eyes, you followed the blade which was mere inches away from the center of your chest, and the moment you felt the small tip pierce your shirt a silent yelp escaped your lips.

Not fazed by your obvious fear, the man proceeded with whatever he had in mind and moved the knife until it had reached your shoulder, cutting the thin fabric along the way. In response to his cold fingers that glided along your exposed shoulder and collarbone, goosebumps peppered your skin. Your heartbeat quickened and you didn’t know whether this was because of the fear of what he’ll do next or because you were kinda curious about what’s about to come.

Still unable to move a single muscle there was nothing left for you but to watch and feel how the blade was pressed against your skin until it had cut through it. The fact that he’d cut so close to your heart made it hurt more than your harmless cut earlier, but as if that wasn’t painful enough he began to slide the blade up until its tip had reached the top of your right shoulder.

Your throat dried up, muffling the scream you so badly wanted to release. A stream of warm tears ran along the curves of your cheeks and dripped down to your cleavage, where a rather thin but bloody line had split your skin open.

“I can control your blood flow and if I so desire, I can make you move your limbs according to my wishes…to put it simply, by summoning me with your blood, you made yourself my marionette.”

His expressionless eyes followed the many thin blood droplets that oozed out of your wound and just before they were able to stain your clothes with their deep scarlet color, he extended his finger, positioning it mere millimeters away from your skin. Through half-closed eyes, you watched in awe as your blood was being drawn to the fingertip of the man like a magnet and slowly turned into the same gem-like form from before. Your injury still hurt, but as you dared to take a slight glance at it, you noticed that all the blood was gone, sucked up by the finger of the demon, and turned into a shimmering stone that was once again swallowed like candy.

——

Some weeks passed after that surreal encounter and since then you’d been more or less forced to live with the entity you’d summoned. On that night he’d introduced himself as Choso and despite your desire to either send him back to wherever he came from or simply throw him out, neither option was going to end well. According to the man himself, summoning rituals were easier to conduct than the ones to banish demons back into the abyss. You would need to take several precautions into account and in Choso’s case, you’d have to fulfill nearly impossible tasks, such as collecting 20 liters of blood from pure-blooded siblings or finding and freeing one of his many siblings.

Your second option of throwing him out was dismissed almost momentarily after he’d told you that he can’t survive without consuming someone’s blood; ideally, he’d only have to take a small amount of your blood once a week, but if you insisted on kicking him out, then he’d have to attack random people and since they didn’t summon him, the amount of blood he’d have to take from them would be fatal.

Living with a demonic entity was surprisingly pleasant, but you knew that this was most likely because of the man’s personality and that if you’d summoned someone else, it would’ve most likely ended up way differently.

He was taking his role as the eldest brother very seriously and despite not being part of his family, he treated you very lovingly and even willingly took on most of the homework, but only that which he was familiar with, such as sweeping the floor or washing the dishes. Whenever he behaved like that, you found it difficult to remember the fact that he was some type of devil and sometimes you even caught yourself thinking how you wished he’d stay with you forever. It was good to have someone living under the same roof as you, someone you could more or less trust with your possessions, and someone to lie down next to in the evening.

But despite these few perks you noticed how your health slowly started to deteriorate. Simple tasks such as homework, reading texts, or concentrating during lectures; things you usually mastered almost effortlessly, became more and more difficult with each passing week, and the reason for that was none other than Choso.

Being his weekly food source didn’t come without any risks.

He’d warned you that the amount of blood he’d take from you and then consume, won't be automatically regenerated by your body and that if you refused his help, you’d slowly die away. Being the rational human you were, you didn’t believe him, thinking that something like your blood being slowly taken away by him was sheer impossible, so you refused his offer of help even before he’d properly explained it.

A mistake you slowly came to regret.

This morning you had felt as if someone was constantly hitting your head with a thick book, your body felt so heavy that your usual walking speed had decreased drastically and because of it you were ten minutes late for your first lecture.

You figured that your appearance must’ve been quite horrible, since your usually uninterested teacher, Sir Nanami, actually stopped mid-sentence to ask whether you were feeling ok and whether you wanted to go to the nurse’s office for a while. You wanted to brush it off, but as soon as you shook your head, your vision blurred and you felt like you were losing the ground under your feet. Luckily, your seat neighbor Maki reacted quickly and held onto you before you fell from your chair. Anything that occurred afterward was lost to you and the next time you came back to your senses, you found yourself on your bed, wrapped warmly in your blanket.

“What…happened?” you asked half loud, not expecting an answer, as you slowly sat upright, leaning your back on your bed’s headboard and letting your eyes roam around the familiar surroundings.

“You lost consciousness during your class,” said a silent and gentle voice, “thanks to our…contract, I felt that you were close to collapsing, so I followed the scent of your blood and when I found you, I took you back home.”

While you were processing the information you were given, Choso slowly walked towards your bed and kneeled next to it, placing one of his hands on top of your own, softly caressing it in the process. You couldn’t help but crack a small smile at the gesture and sighed as you imagined how he must’ve entered your classroom, ignoring everything and everyone and simply coming to your seat, taking you in his arms, and leaving, as if it’s the most normal thing to do.

“I told you to be careful, didn’t I?” His sudden question caught you off guard and all you could do was look down in shame. Seeing you look so sad and crestfallen reminded Choso of his younger brothers and he instinctively reached for the top of your head with his free hand and softly petted it a few times before caressing it. Being comforted by a demon-like that truly did wonders. For once you ignored the fact that it was partially his fault and savored the moment.

“I know that you didn’t want to hear about it, but in view of your wellbeing I’m obligated to tell you about a way you can minimize the harm done to you” he paused and took a short breath before continuing, “if we make a proper deal with each other, I’m allowed to share a portion of my blood with you and that will make up for the amount I’m taking…but it’s not risk-free.”

This time it was you who had to take a long breath, a futile attempt to make your heartbeat calm down. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise to you that a deal with the devil contains several risks, but the fact that Choso was willing to tell you about them, relieved you in a way. Before reluctantly accepting his offer you requested a more detailed explanation for your own mind’s peace. According to his words, the danger of consuming a demon’s blood was very addictive, and if not done properly, the human risks becoming entirely dependent, meaning, they would prefer blood instead of real food or water.

The thought of not being able to eat and drink what you loved scared you of course, but the wish to gain a sense of normality back in your life prevailed and you eventually caved, telling him that you’d agree to his terms and drink his blood just once and never again…

At first, everything seemingly worked out. Your focus was back and you could once again dedicate yourself fully to university and friends. You were happy…but not for long.

One week passed and your throat began to feel raspy and dry. Accompanying these uncomfortable feelings was the undying urge to constantly drink something and whenever your drinking bottle was empty, you’d get really nervous and start nibbling on your lip. But the worst part of it all was how you’d caught yourself, thinking about wanting to bite Choso and lick the blood right out of the wound like some kind of vampire.

“What the hell is wrong with me..?” you thought to yourself while you gently let your hand run along the man’s head. He looked up at you for a mere second before he continued to enjoy his “meal”. A small and barely visible blush adorned your cheeks as soon as you realized what kind of situation you found yourself in right now.

The man, whose head you had just caressed, was kneeling between your thighs, a small portion of your plush flesh between his teeth. He bit down until they pierced through it and drew blood. All the while your eyes followed every ever so small movement of his’s until the big red droplets of blood caught your attention. The two of you observed how they slowly grew larger than Choso’s teeth marks and finally began dripping down your slightly raised leg.

With an unexpected smile, the man bent down and licked the blood from your skin before it stained anything. Your breath hitched for a moment and usually, you’d either look away or close your eyes while he got his weekly portion, but this time you couldn’t help but downright stare at him as he sucked on your small wound. It shouldn’t have surprised you to see someone enjoying themselves when they eat, even if that someone was a supernatural entity, but this was the first time you had properly looked at Choso while he consumed your blood and for some reason, your heart started beating faster than ever before.

You bit your lower lip as you watched how his slightly longer tongue slithered over the bloody marks on your thigh and the way he sometimes planted a soft kiss on it made you shiver from pleasure. Your body became gradually hotter, resulting in you having to breathe harder, and the slight red that had tainted your cheeks had now taken on a deeper shade.

“C-Choso…I need your blood, please” you stuttered out of nowhere in between your labored breaths.

At the mention of his name all of his movements seized and the man’s eyes slowly moved up to your reddened face. After what felt like minutes of pure silence, he let go of your leg, licked his lips, and removed the scarf around his neck.

While he was getting himself ready for you, you looked at his pale skin and the black markings, which resembled Kinesio tapes that athletes sometimes used, running along it.

Your impatience got the best of you and without wasting a second you got on your knees and faced him while he began looking around for something. Meanwhile, you were unable to focus on anything at all. Your eyes wandered from his face, down to his neck, along his collarbone and shoulder, and then back to his face yet again.

That something he searched for turned out to be the knife you’d used for his summoning ritual. He handed you the blade with the same stoic expression as always, but instead of taking it, you slapped it away and next thing you knew, you had wrapped your arms around his torso and had buried your teeth deep inside of his shoulder’s skin. The only reaction you got from him was a simple flinch as a result of your sudden embrace and nothing more, no sound, no sigh, nothing.

But as of right now this was the last thing that occupied your mind, all you wanted to do was drink this man’s blood and finally quench the thirst you’d been suppressing for so long.

“That’s it, (Y/N)…satisfy your thirst…give in…don’t be afraid, it’ll only do you good” he cooed seductively in your ear as he let his big hand softly glide along your back.

With a devilish smile, he listened to the hungry way you lapped up the blood from his multiple shoulder wounds that you’d inflicted within a matter of seconds.

Satisfied by your behavior, he gently patted your head and closed his eyes, relishing the feeling of your wet and slightly rough tongue.

If it weren’t for your indescribable hunger, you would’ve noticed the red glint in Choso’s usually dark and soulless eyes…

Now, you’re mine…

#deal with the devil collab #jjk scenarios #jjk imagines #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk choso #choso x reader #choso x you #━𝙹𝙹𝙺

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