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trivia-yandere · 5 months ago

Text

divine intervention

you'll do anything to have your own baby one day - even to go against your morals and allow a wiccan to help you. same universe as metamorphosis

warning: cheating/affair, cursing, mentions of infertility and miscarriages, blood (reader is cut), rituals, smut, licking, voyeurism, breeding kink, creampie, character death, nipple sucking/play, dirty talk, oral sex, fingering, overstimulation, squirting, rough sex, fingering, begging, character deaths, slight degradation/humiliation, deepthroating, face slapping, blood drinking/cannibalism, rough sex

word count: 10.243

Halloween Masterlist

@sweetempathprunetree @darkuni63 @momnomnom @bangtans-momma @chimmy-licious @investedreader

You’re wet and cold, body trembling as the harsh rain fully covers your frame. You’re blinking away droplets of rain water from your eyelashes, eyes staring right at your target. You stopped dead in tracks when you noticed the familiar car park right into the parking lot and got out of said car - the passenger door had opened as well.

You had gotten out of your car prepared to confront him, but you didn’t. Your heart sank when they both entangled their fingers together, hearing a few struggling laughter even through the rain, as they ran towards the motel doors.

You watched as your husband entered the motel room with the woman - obviously who he was going to leave you for - and closed the door behind them. Through the closed blind, you witness the lights flicker on and behind them, their silhouette engulfing in a hug.

You swallow thickly, your throat hurting as you think about the fact that your marriage was going to be ending - and yet maybe you should’ve listened to him the first time when he asked for said divorce. You had only thought he was upset with you and eventually, the both of you would come together once more.

Your legs pick up and you’re stomping towards the motel room. Your heart is already shattered and now you’re angry.

You didn’t deserve this. You were a good wife to him and you remained by his side with all the bullshit he went through - all the shit he has put you through. In the end, where did it leave you both? Down the path of a divorce while you sit at home alone and he’s out with another woman.

You stop right outside the motel door, contemplating if you should be doing this now. It was a week prior when you caught sight of the motel receipt - you had been washing clothes and decided to wash his. You checked his pockets to assure nothing would be damaged and in the end, only your heart was. No man is going to a motel in the same town he lives in if it wasn’t because he was creeping with another woman.

There were signs - of course there were signs. You chose to ignore them all. The sudden “work phone calls” and “staying overtime” should have struck you as off - but you were blinded by love for your husband that you didn’t allow yourself to see what the fuck was in front of you.

Your fist connects with the door rapidly, banging against it with all your might that your knuckles begin to throb - but you didn’t give a damn at this moment. You had gone to the same motel each night that he had not come home and waited to see if his car would be here - and tonight you happened to be lucky.

There’s shuffling behind the door and when it swings open is when you attack, your fist connecting to the face of your husband. The woman screams in shock and comes between the two of you.

“What the hell-”

Maybe it was the adrenaline that gives you such strength and courage. Maybe the rain and heavy wind has caused you to get sick faster than usual and now you have super powers; who the hell knows? It only took one punch for the woman to fall onto her ass and clench her nose and by the end of it all, you know that you’d feel guilty because surely this wasn’t her fault. She didn’t owe you any loyalty.

“Y/N!”

Your husband is grabbing your shoulders, eyes wide at the act of being caught red-handed. “How did you-”

“Shut the fuck up.” You hiss, having no desire to explain yourself to him. It was you that needed to be asking the important questions. “This is the overtime you’re putting in?” you ask him. “This,” you point to the woman on the ground. “is the work calls?”

Your husband shakes his head, unable to form words. What could he truly say? It was obvious that this was an affair and you weren’t dumb enough to fall for any more lies when it was slapped in your face like this.

“Listen-”

“When did it start?” you interrupt once more. “How long-”

“I asked for a divorce!” your husband hisses and instantly sighs. He didn’t want to do this here. “Can we talk-”

“We can talk right here.” you say, yanking yourself away when he goes to reach for you. “So that’s it? You want a divorce?” you scoff. “After I stayed when all your business ventures went to shit? All your investments went downhill?”

Your husband's eyes widen at your words and he takes a step back.

“Don’t look like that now.” you scoff. “It was my money that kept us afloat.”

“My apologies, Y/N, for not being a trust fund baby!” your husband retorts. “I don’t have mommy and daddies money to fall back on like you do!”

You lick your lips, swallowing back more harsh insults you could dish out. You nod your head with a shrug of your shoulders.

“We’ve been together for years and the relationship has gone nowhere.” your husband states. “I thought a divorce would be mutual-”

“Mutual?” you snort.

“You know what I want, Y/N.” he murmurs. “We both know what we want and you cannot do it. I can’t…” his eyes blink away from your face, unable to look you in the eye as he says it. “...I don’t want to adopt. I want to have my own child. And you don’t want to do surrogacy-”

“You’re divorcing me because I cannot carry a child.” you state. “I see.”

“It’s deeper than that, Y/N and you know it.”

“What else is there?” you ask. “We were fine prior to me finding out.” One too many miscarriages to be exact. You recall the day your heart sank when you were told the low possibility of you actually having a child - and you refused to keep trying to just get let down.

“Tomorrow,” you began, eyes glancing at the woman. She doesn’t look at you and you wonder just who she is and what her intentions were with your husband - now ex. Was she planning on getting into a relationship with him or was this just them fucking in cheap motels? “you can come get you stuff from the house.”

Your husband swallows but he nods.

“I’ll have my mommy and daddy call our family lawyer.” you say, voice laced with sarcasm and venom. “We’ll sort something out. I’ll tell you this now that the most I’m willing to let you keep is your car.”

Your husband watches you leave, back out in the heavy rain. You enter your car and sit for a moment, mind racing with the events that just transpire. The rain hides your view of outside your windshield and you have yet to start your car. You sit idly in the cold car and listen to the sound of said rain hit against it.

It doesn’t get easier with time, you note, and your home only feels empty and cold without his presence. You told yourself this was for the best - this is what he wanted after all. Soon, the divorce will be finalized and he will be someone else’s problem.

Even now you sit alone in a diner, stirring your tea. It’s quiet and only low music plays through the speakers. It’s also not busy, an older couple sitting a few tables away.

You shouldn’t be here now. This is where you and your ex-husband came at any given moment as it was 24 hours and it’s pathetic that this is where you went because you didn’t wish to be home.

“You’re sad.”

You’re startled by the voice speaking suddenly and your eyes blink upwards to the woman sitting across from you. She appears to be out of place here. She seems to be wearing robes - a crimson color with a spec of gold trimming. Her head is covered by a hood of the same color and you’re unable to make out her face just yet as her head is bowed. Her hands are placed onto the table and you noticed she’s wearing gold jewelry

You sit straighter, unaware who this woman was and why she was here. You had not heard her sit down, either, and that strikes you as odd.

“Is it that obvious?” you murmur, scoffing to yourself.

“Your aura is sad.” the woman speaks. “You’re hurting. Emotionally, of course.”

You realized that this entire time you had been stirring your tea. You stopped and took out the spoon from the tea cup and placed it aside. You slowly nod your head. “I suppose you’re correct.” you say, unsure why you’re speaking to a complete stranger who appeared out of thin air.

You take a sip of your tea, the flavor of chai hitting your taste buds only makes you hum. At least there was one good memory of this diner and it was the tea. Nonetheless, you turn your eyes back to the woman. “I must look utterly miserable if you noticed how sad I looked.” you attempt to joke - to lighten the mood.

“I can’t see you.” the woman says and now you notice that she indeed could not. She lifts her head to your direction and her eyes are white. It catches you by surprise and she appears to be looking right at you.

“I-I didn’t know that.” you murmur, now feeling embarrassed that you hadn’t noticed in the beginning. “How could you tell then?”

For a moment, the woman is quiet and you could practically feel the hair on your arms rise. You’re unsure what to say yourself - you had several questions. Who was this woman and where did she come from? How could she feel your sadness as she did not know you or your situation?

“I could sense it - a great deal of pain coming from you.” the woman speaks. “You’re lonely.”

You snicker to yourself, quite bitterly. A blind woman can tell that you were a lonely mess of a woman.

“I lost my husband.” you say, taking another sip of your tea. “He isn’t dead, though. Just dead to me.” you tell her.

It’s crazy that you sense no threat to this woman who would have struck you as weird if it was any other moment. You didn’t have the desire to speak to your friends about your divorce just yet and get a “I told you so” reaction from them like you had with your parents. This woman didn’t know you and maybe that was better.

“I married him because I loved him and I thought he loved me.” you continue. “But when times went hard, I suppose “til death do us part” was just easier said than done.” you shrug your shoulders.

“I can feel you’re upset about him, however…” the woman tilts her head a bit, as if reading more into the situation. “...you aren’t just upset about him.”

You nod your head - even if she couldn’t see you do so. “Yeah.” you admit. “I have no husband and I cannot have children. So,” you laugh at your situation. Obviously you’ve done something in your past life to deserve this, surely? “I suppose I’m upset with myself and life in general.”

“Have you always wished to be a mother?”

You have.

You always pondered what motherhood would be like for you. You recall how you and your mother did things together - how loving she was. How understanding she could be. She would scold you when you were wrong, sure, but she loved you nonetheless and truly did want what was best.

You had the financial stability to raise a child in and that was one of the reasons why you wished to be a mother, as having a child without that support would never be an option for you.

“Yes.” you respond to the woman. “I suppose…the universe has other plans for me.” you say with a shake of your head. “I could always adopt but…it’ll be a little harder now that I’m going through a divorce.”

Fuck your husband, truly. You begin to think about what if you just agreed and went through with the surrogacy - maybe then you’d have a husband and a baby.

But your mind told you that it wasn’t realistic. That if he loved you, nothing would have tore him away from you.

You swallow.

“I’m positive you can get pregnant.” the woman speaks and you want to thank her for her positivity - but if the doctors didn’t see you going through with a pregnancy, then you’re sure you couldn’t. “Your spirit just rejected the man you wished to have a child with.”

You raise a brow at her words. She was a spiritual woman, obviously, as she states she could feel your aura.

“You think so?” you ask her. You wouldn’t push her away as some sort of crazy woman with too many screws loose.

The woman nods. “Our spirit...sometimes will not accept who we wish to procreate with.” she speaks. “It’s an act of protection. This man was not the man for you.”

You smile.

The woman's words are kind. She was trying to be positive, you note, and assure that you felt better. You were grateful for her words.

“I could help you.”

“Help…me?” you’re taken aback. “Are you a type of…spiritual doctor?”

The woman’s lips twitch upward. “I’m a wiccan.”

It’s quiet for a moment as you process her words.

“Wiccan…?” you swallow with a slight nod. You should be more frightened than you truly were at the moment for the unknown surrounding this woman. “...how could you help me?” you should be even more frightened by how willing you were to hear her methods.

“There’s methods we can go through to assure you conceive a child.”

This was crazy.

There was no way you could be considering this.

“I…I’ll just end up miscarrying.” you murmur with a shake of your head.

“I’m positive,” the woman begins. “that you will be able to birth a child.” she sounds certain of herself.

“What is the catch?” you question. “Do you want money?”

The woman shakes her head and she laughs at your words. “Money is not my motive. I want to lift the sadness that surrounds you and fill it with happiness. A child is one of the greatest blessings there is in life.”

You proceed to drink the rest of your tea in one sitting, mind scrambling at the woman's words.

“If I consider this…just who am I getting impregnated by?” you ask.

The woman stands suddenly and you see just how long her robs are. “I could give you a week to settle in on it.”

“I-I…how would I see you again?”

“I know where to find you.”

Her words should strike you as odd and you should be frightened that they do not.

“You want to be a single mother?” your mother inhales deeply, her manicured nails on her temples rubbing them in circular motion. “I know going through a divorce isn’t easy but…” she doesn’t finish her words.

It’s obvious in where she stands. Why in the world would you choose to be a single mother? Though she never liked the idea of you, in her words, dating a man that was “less than”, she never downright forbade you. If you were happy then it was all she truly wanted.

However, now you were going through a divorce by said man that she always knew was less than deserving of you - and the thought of cheating on the person who gave him a chance was downright insane.

“I can introduce you to some people!” your mother suggests.

You groan. Great. Your mother was trying to set you up with someone of high status that could care less about you entirely and would only be doing so because they were looking for someone with status.

“Mother,” you wave your hand in front of you dismissively. “Please. I’m going through a divorce and the last thing I want is a partner.”

“But you want a child?” your mother snickers, unable to wrap her head around single motherhood. “W-What…” she swallows. She doesn’t want to be harsh on you in such a fragile moment in your life, but you’re positive you know where she’s going.

What if you have this child and cannot find any man willing (in their eyes) to want to marry a single mother?

You weren’t old and you still had time - but you weren’t sure you wanted to be with anyone. You dipped your toes into married life and this is where it got you - single and still without a child.

“At least if I had a child, it’d be mine.” you sigh. “If I got pregnant sooner, imagine the headache of joint custody.”

Your mother isn’t keen on imagining it. You lean back into your chair, eyes glancing upwards at the high ceiling chandelier. You release a sigh. “I just want to have someone love me forever.” you whisper to yourself. “I want to be able to carry a child. Feel it move inside of me and watch as I grow week by week. Is that too much to ask for?” you question truly.

You glance back at your mother. She’s shaking her head and you’re understanding that she could never truly get where you were coming from. “I will support you in anything you decide to do.” she speaks. “If this is what is going to make you happy…”

You inhale deeply, closing your eyes. You see the woman dressed in the red robes, her white eyes seemingly watching you. It has almost been a week and your mind refuses to go elsewhere.

This is what you wanted, right? You wanted to be a mother and raise a child - even if you didn’t have a partner alongside you. You were only growing older and did you truly wish to get to know someone else and go through the same obstacles you’ve already gone through with your first husband?

“It is what I want.” you exhale, your chest tightening and heart beating rapidly at how long you’ve held your breath. “More than anything…”

It was deep in the night when you saw the woman once more. You had showered and scrubbed your skin clean. The red flags weren’t going off in your head and you never questioned just how the woman knew where you lived. Maybe you’d blame your desperation for a child on why it didn’t strike you as odd.

The woman was not alone. Behind her strolled three more women, all younger than her and instead of being dressed in crimson robes, they sported a dark emerald color. Their hoods are all covering their heads and it’s only when they enter your home do two of them remove it in sync.

One woman has long coily hair that matches her eyes - dark yet vibrant. Her skin is smooth and underneath the dim light of your home, it appears to glow a deep color similar to espresso. The second woman's hair is short and stops right at her shoulders in a blunt cut - a fierce ginger color that is so bold and it compliments the brownish-green hue of her eyes. You noticed there’s piercings on her skin, four gold ones on the bridge of her nose alone while there’s a few hoops outlining her ears. There’s two small gold hoops on either side of the woman's lips. The final woman keeps her hood on and only could you see her eyes as it appears to be a silk gold scarf wrapped firmly around her neck and mouth, loosely hanging. Her eyes are pierce and it reminds you of that of a cat.

You swallow, captivated by all of the women - each so different yet so inviting and it takes you a moment to look away. Only when your eyes begin to grow irritated by the lack of blinking moisture do you halt.

“I’m sorry.” you say, body heating with embarrassment. You’re unsure what to say and positive that you didn’t need to apologize as you didn’t do anything. You were nervous and even now, there weren’t any alarms going off in your head. “I have questions….”

It’s the blinded woman that speaks first. “Ask and we shall answer.”

You swallow. Your arms cover with goosebumps as you were wearing little - at their request. It’s a satin night gown that stops at the middle of your thigh and you were instructed on it to be a dark color - preferably black.

“H-How is this going to work?”

The woman offers a soft smile. She begins to walk into your home - deeper as if she’s been here before. You watch, eyes witnessing the way she appears to walk without any issues and you ponder if this woman was truly blind.

But then you had to consider that upon being introduced to you, she stated that she was wiccan - and maybe that had something to do with her overall demeanor. How she could sense your sadness to even now, her showing up at your doorstep and you had not told her explicitly where you lived.

“If I can ask,” you speak up, bare feet patting against the hardwood floor as you follow close behind them. “how am I supposed to be impregnated without…a man?” it’s a logical question that you feel needs an answer - you suppose maybe they had something on them; a vile maybe that could be inserted inside of you. Yet, how good could that be? The sperm could surely not survive that long outside of the body.

But then again, you tell yourself, the woman claimed to be wiccan.

You take a deep breath.

“There will be a man.” one woman speaks up - it’s the one with coily hair. She turns to you and you halt dead in your tracks. Her voice is low in tone but purely feminine. “It will work as long as you follow our instructions.”

“Indeed.” another woman said - the one with the golden scarf around her speaks. The older woman stopped inside your sitting area, the large room was perfect for the ritual.

“I...am prone to miscarriages.” you murmur. “I wouldn’t wait to wait any of your time if-”

“You let us worry about that.” the woman with the piercings speaks. Her hands place themselves onto your shoulder, her touch warm and soothing. “Come, sit.”

You’re directed to the floor - your sitting room is a large space with several lounge chairs and couches, yet you are instructed to sit on the large rub right in the middle of the room.

The other woman surrounds you and within a second, the lights in said sitting area are turned off and it’s pitch black. You yelp, clenching your hands to your chest as your heart beats outside of it.

Before you could speak, there’s a dim light flickering on and around you - candle light. It’s eerie, you’d admit. The orange light flickers off of the faces of the woman surrounding you, the older one right in front of you. Her white eyes appear to be looking down upon you.

“I-”

“Do not bring yourself to worry. You are completely safe.” the woman speaks, as if reading your mind. “Lay down.”

You take a deep breath and proceed to lay on your back. You want to ask even more questions, but you believe it’s far too late for that now.

You hear the woman speaking - more like chanting. Your ears perk to understand what they’re saying; but you cannot. Your eyes glances around the dim-lim room at what they were doing. They begin to saunter around you in a circle and you hear a slight sound - as if something is being poured. Your eyes squint to understand what it was - sand? It’s dark, however, as if pure black instead of the light tan the sand color usually would be.

Your heartbeat quickens, your palms growing sweaty.

The woman is directly behind you now. She peers down at you, white eyes boring into you. You’re quiet and unmoving, far too frightened to say anything.

Your eyes catch it as she draws closer, the silver dagger in her hand that she comes at you with. You’re paralyzed but your eyes grow wide when she drops the dagger onto your breast and slices either side of them.

The chanting only grows louder and your mind is screaming at you, the irony smell of your blood only adding to the effects of what the fuck you gotten yourself into.

Your vision begins to blur and the room looks as if it’s smoky - your heart rate skyrockets. It didn’t smell like a fire and neither of the women appeared alarmed that one of their candles was causing it.

There’s a shadow casted above you that you’re unsure about - it’s sudden and you’re pondering if you were just seeing things. But the shadow only grows larger and your eyes squint to look deeper into the smokey dark.

As the candle-light’s flickers, your heart races faster. Your eyes are wide and unmoving as the tall figure saunters over to you. It’s large and looks purely hellish; demonic. Its skin is a dark red, similar to the woman’s crimson robes. Its eyes are staring down right at you, pupil dark while its iris glows a lime green. On either side of his forehead are goat-like horns and you notice behind his back appears to be like wings similar to that of a bat.

“What is this?”

This had to be some sort of demon - it’s voice is deep as he speaks.

“You were summoned under a contract.”

The demon snarls, his head whipping towards the older woman. His eyes glances around the sigil onto the ground and a few crystals on all five points. An obvious attempt as a protection spell.

“What is it that you want, witch?”

Your eyes are unable to move from the demon before you and for the first time, you’re completely too shocked to speak or react. Your body feels as if it could faint at any moment, but that would require you to get your eyes off of this demon; and you were unable to.

“Isn’t it obvious?” the older woman points down at you. “She is presented to you just as your kind wishes those who seek a child to be.”

The demon glances back at your figure for a moment. He can smell your fear and hear your heart beating - almost as if it’s going to explode. You were human and he could snap you in half with no effort.

The demon lowers himself to face you, nose inhaling the scent of your blood.

“Is that all you want?” the demon speaks, but not to you. “What’s your motive, witch?”

“I have no personal gain.” the woman shrugs her shoulders. “I’m one woman that has a desire to help another.”

“Personal gain is what demons have.” one woman speaks, you’re unsure which of the three.

“Don’t act holier than thou, witch.” the demon seethes. “You summoned me for my help.”

The demon's teeth are sharp as he snaps at the witches - but that’s before turning back to you. You feel your stomach churn when his eyes reach yours and you find yourself gulping.

The demon’s wings begin to flock. It appears to have bat-like wings,a thin membrane of skin connecting from its wings to its back.

The demon lowers to you once more, but this time as his body descends into the shadows, when it emerges his look is different.

Human.

Your eyes scan the features of the demon. Its eyes that were once glowing were now a dull dark brown, one single lid and one double lid eye stare right back at you. He has a heart shaped face and his horns have disappeared and replaced itself with a mop of dark hair. His lips are what catch you first - they’re a rosy pink color, his top lip slightly fuller than his bottom.

Your lips release a short gasp at the sudden change from demon to man - and now you understand the countless stories you’d hear growing up that demons (either if you believed in them or not) could easily persuade anyone away from good. Your once frightened demeanor began to relax at the new sight of an attractive man; not a monster.

Dark eyes never leave yours as the demons head lowered to your chest. A pink split tongue pokes out between his lips and you feel it upon your chest, warm tongue gliding against your bleeding cuts.

“You humans are fragile.” the demon speaks - his once deep voice now sounding more human, but still deeper than you imagined any man to have. “You aren’t a witch, girl.”

You shake your head even though you’re sure it was a statement and not a question.

“How do you plan on caring for a child with a demon?” he asks, but it wasn’t as if he truly cared. He was a fertility demon, after all. He had hundreds of children and the majority of them were humans who were done exactly like this - only different was this was the first time said humans had not sought him out directly.

You open your mouth to speak but you’re unsure of the answer yourself. You didn’t know that these women - witches - were going to summon a demon to impregnate you.

“She’ll have our help.” the blind witch speaks and for a moment, you forgot that they were still there watching you and him.

The demon scoffs. “You witches are always up to something at the cost of my seed.” he murmurs. “I won’t be released until I impregnate you, human.” he inhales, smelling the scent of your arousal along with sensing just how confused, concerned yet horny you were all at once. “My name is Taehyung.”

“Tae…hyung.”

The demon - Taehyung - snickers at you saying his name.

Taehyung’s split tongue continues to swirl across your soft skin, the irony taste of your blood causes his taste buds to dance. A clawed hand grips at your thigh, gliding up your skin and pushes the night gown upwards as he does.

Sharp teeth bite down harshly on your breast and the sudden rush of pain causes you to shriek loudly. Taehyung is rough and swift, ripping off your silk nightgown in a quick movement. It’s shredded and tossed aside without a care by the demon.

You’re now naked on the floor surrounded by witches and a demon - a night like this could not be dreamed of enough.

“Humans have the best tasting blood.” Taehyung all but purrs, tongue licking his lips of your blood.

Your eyes watched as your nipples were his next interest. The split appendage licks at your hardened nipples, suckling and tugging on them without stopping. Your thighs quiver and you cannot help but moan at the dirty sight before you. Taehyung is starved, tugging your nipples so roughly as he sucks, but this wasn’t enough for him. He was a fertility demon, after all.

Taehyung twirls his tongue from your swollen nipples to down your stomach. His fingers nails are sharp as they swipe at your thighs, forcing them open. He can smell your arousal dripping for him; sweet like honey.

“Delicate humans such as yourself need to be prepped before breeding.”

Your eyes widen when he sinks down between your legs, so dangerously close to you that it causes you to yelp with embarrassment.

Your head draws back and your eyes shut when you feel Taehyung’s tongue lick a stripe at your clit before latching itself completely onto it. He suckles on it sloppily, rolling his tongue over the sensitive bud. His hands keep you firmly in place, sharp nails digging into the skin of your thigh and you’re sure they’re drawing blood.

Taehyung’s eyes flicker up to you, snickering at the way you’re biting back your moans. Your teeth are biting your soft lips and you’re jerking with each passing lick.

This is not Taehyung’s first time doing this with a human - he has so many times before. He knows exactly what to do to pleasure them. His right hand leaves their grip upon your thigh to push past your folds. “So tight,” he murmurs against your clit, his fingers going to sink inside of you.

You’re breathing hitches as his fingers dig deeper inside you, brushing against your walls. He doesn’t allow you any grace - his tongue still flickers at your clit teasingly. It wasn’t like you haven’t received oral sex before - but not like this. Taehyung was obviously not human; his fingers appeared to go deeper and deeper with each thrust, jamming into you at an alarming speed.

“I know you’re going to cum, human.” Taehyung’s voice appears in your head and for a moment you’re startled, eyes shooting open to look at him - his tongue has not left your clit, but then you hear it once more. “It’s amazing what a demon could do for you, right?”

You want to ask what the hell is going on and just how he’s in your head - but your stomach churns and once more, your thighs quiver. His fingers jam into your sweet spot with urgency and his words were ringing true - you were going to cum and so fast, too.

Taehyung doesn’t stop - instead he removes his fingers to replace it with his tongue, the muscle only adding to your climax. He buries his tongue deep against you and you’re unable to move away.

The overstimulation is causing your eyes to water. A single tear-drop falls from your eye in contrast to the slick of arousal that falls onto Taehyung’s tongue and down his chin. This was all too much to handle, the pleasure causing you to shake underneath his hold. You’re spasming against his tongue and Taehyung only watches the way you fold against him, a low squeal releasing from your throat.

Taehyung could have just fucked you and gotten it over with - but what’s the fun in that? Even if he was a demon, he still was a man that enjoyed sex and it was far more enjoyable when the other was into it.

You tug at Taehyung’s hair, unable to take anymore pleasure - and you’re already groaning at the blurry sight of his between your legs already that causes another orgasm to run through you.

Taehyung leans back, licking his lips of your arousal. His eyes watch the way your thighs shake and your breathing heaves, chest rising and falling in rhythm.

“Should I breed you right now?”

Your head shakes, unable to comprehend how he was speaking to you in your mind right now.

Nothing was private - not when there were witches watching. That was new - he was a fertility demon and never had an audience before for something this sacred. The only way for an ounce of privacy would be to speak with her through her thoughts.

Only something two bound people could do - something he had done when he had consumed her blood. Eventually it’d wear off if she did not accept the bond; and he was not expecting or bothered if she had or not.

“P-Please.” you murmur, nodding your head at Taehyung’s words in your mind. You truly just wanted him inside of you, completely forgetting that the two of you weren’t alone.

“You humans…” Taehyung doesn’t finish his words and instead, begins to undress his lower half, doing exactly what you were begging him for.

Taehyung’s cock is pretty - it’s pink and veiny and appears utterly suckable. Your mouth salivates at the thought of sucking it before he fucks you and it’s your perverted thoughts that causes him to laugh at you.

“So eager to taste me, little human?” Taehyung’s voice rings in your mind and hastily, you nod with a lick of your lips. “I’m not so sure you could take all of me.”

Taehyung does check to find out, pulling himself closer to you so that you could wrap a hand around the base of his cock - it’s thick in your grasp. You slowly feel him, astonished at something so pretty - maybe demons were meant to be this dangerous. You weren’t the least bit scared as you should be at a demon masking himself as a human to fuck a baby in you - you would go to Hell right now if he fucked you right along the way.

And that’s how demons tricked Humans, you note, in ways such as this.

Your mouth suckles on the tip of Taehyung’s cock, twirling your tongue greedily. Your hands stroke the base of it for added pleasure.

Taehyung groans, his eyes piercing as he watches you take him so good - like a touched starve whore. He can sense the excitement running through you right now, so eager to please him that you were doing an amazing job.

Taehyung grips your hair roughly. “Take more of me, little human. I know you can.” his voice speaks to you, his cock going deeper into your mouth.

There's saliva rolling down your chin as Taehyung begins to thrust inside your mouth. The sight had to be as filthy as when he was eating you out but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. It was something flowing inside of you that wanted to pleasure Taehyung - that needed to feel his cock inside of your mouth before he fucks a baby into you.

“Such a pretty whore you are.” Taehyung growls audibly. “Should I take you back to Hell with me and fuck you all the time?”

You whimper against his thrusting cock and Taehyung chuckles with a shake of his head. One hand lays itself under your chin so he can look into your watery eyes as his cock flows in and out of you. He growls, so pretty - so devilish. Those eyes were anything but holy.

“I’ll make you my personal whore…mine to fuck until the end of time.”

Taehyung releases himself from your mouth. You cough, saliva pooling onto your chest and you heave. He wastes no time in tearing your legs apart, cock right at your center.

“You want me to be bred, don’t you, little human? No human could give you what I could.”

“Please…” you beg, eyes watery and hips buckling to feel him inside of you. You were needy, clenching around nothing.

Taehyung gives you what you beg him for. He enters you with one thrust, your back arching at the sudden fullness of his cock. One hand pushes you back onto the ground. He then places the same hand against your stomach, beginning to thrust deeply inside of you.

Each thrust has you hitting against the floor roughly, your eyes rolling at the sensation. Your velvety walls tighten around his cock, greedy to milk him dry if that’s what it took.

“Little whore you are. Want a child so bad that you’d have a demon.” Taehyung’s taunting you, but his words do nothing but make you wetter for him, legs widening to take him even more - and it drives him crazy.

Taehyung growls, determined to send you over the edge. He forces your legs apart, pounding into you at an alarming speed for a human but even then you don’t appear to be threatened. You’re a weird human, he notes, fully accepting her fate - and maybe that was easier. Accept that you were fucking a demon and soon will be having one; there were precautions that you would have to go through. Such as completely cutting the child’s demonic abilities off that would kill the demon half of them - such acts would cause great pain for the child when the time comes.

Taehyung had children - majority of them walking earth with no ties to the demon world or the Brotherhood he was a part of. Those who were demons were so far removed from him that neither of them cared for a relationship as their birth was just business.

Taehyung ponders what you would choose - having a half demon child wouldn’t be easier for you to handle and he’s positive these witches didn’t give you any warning about what hell the pregnancy would be, let alone half demon spawns running around your house.

Taehyung snorts. You were so cock drunk right now that nothing mattered to you. He thrusts deeper inside of you, your pussy gripping him with greed that could only be seen as a sin. Your arousal pools beneath you and onto your rug, sure to stain it with the memories of this night.

“I can smell you, human. You’re gonna cum again.”

Your breathing increases and Taehyung is correct - you were going to cum. It’s a knot deep in your stomach that longs to be released.

“Let’s cum together, human.”

With both hands, Taehyung hoists your bottom half off of the ground and begins to pound into you, the sound of skin slapping echoing off of the walls of your sitting room; all mixed with your high-pitched shrieks.

Your eyes begin to roll once more and you're so close that your eyes begin to tear up with how good it all feels, the eyes of the witches fading into nothingness.

Taehyung’s nails dig into your skin as a few sloppy thrusts hit your sweet spot and he’s cumming deep inside of you, a warm seed painting your walls heavenly - it causes you to cum along with him. Your lower body shakes, your body erupts with warmth.

“Don’t think I’m done with you, human.” Taehyung’s voice growls in your mind. “You want to be bred, I’ll make sure I do just that.”

Before you could speak, Taehyung flips you on your stomach and forces you onto your knees. He enters you once more, continuing his pounding speed inside you.

Maybe Taehyung was determined to break you - you were so fragile and didn’t know what you were getting yourself into. If you told him to slow down, he would - but you hadn’t. Your mind is screaming with just as much pleasure as your shrieks were. You were leaking all over the place and looked like a bitch in heat.

Taehyung’s unsure why it angers him to see you in such pleasure - was it because you weren’t afraid of him and the consequences of being bred by a demon? Was it because you were taking him far too well that he was beginning to enjoy it?

Taehyung yanks you back by your neck and presses himself against you, hips buckling inside your squelching pussy. His sharp nails dig into your neck as he squeezes it, free hand resting on your clit and begins to rub circles on the sensitive bud.

“You’re a filthy little human, aren’t you?”

Taehyung’s fingers roughly rub at your clit for added stimulation. You scream out, not caring how dirty you probably looked to the on-lookers.

“I just might come back for you, little human. Fuck a few more babies in you since you seem to want my seed so much.”

“P-Please…” you beg, a few tears dropping from the corner of your eyes - how pathetic you must’ve looked, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. The pleasure is too much and you’re now begging him to cum. “Please make me cum….!”

Taehyung snickers, fingers rubbing through your folds with alarming stamina as his hips fuck into your tight walls. Your eyes are swirling to the back of your head again, feeling so full of him that you never want him to stop - you never felt this way before with your husband or any other man. It had to be because Taehyung wasn’t human but just looking the part for your sake.

You cry out with an embarrassing heat running through you as arousal-filled juices leaked out of you and down your thighs. It hits the floor with a splash, similar to water hitting the ground. You begin to shudder, body going completely limb in Taehyung’s embrace.

Taehyung taps your clit a few times, satisfied that you’ve came so hard again - and he was sure he could fuck you all night, but he would. You were a human and humans couldn’t do such a thing.

“Gonna get you nice and full, human. No human man would be able to give you such an honorable gift.” Taehyung brings his soaked hand and slaps your cheek as if to signal your attention. “Such a cock-hungry whore you are…you’ll be begging to be full of me again.”Your body continues to tremble, fully reliant on Taehyung to hold you upright. You’ve already cum enough.

Taehyung himself is cumming, and yet he still has an unholy amount of stamina - and cum - to give you.

Your face burns when it’s shoved into your rug, cheek slamming against it as Taehyung forces your ass into the car. You’re drooling onto it, pussy clenching around his cock, milking even more of his cum. He’s pounding inside of you at a dangerous rate, cock hitting even deeper and managing to fill you up with more and more cum.

“I’ll make sure you’re pregnant by the time we’re done here, human.” Taehyung snarls, attempting to use your body to his full advantage.

A part of Taehyung upset that you still had no protest in you - to think a human could take him is preposterous. And yet - as you lay trembling beneath him, cock buried so deep inside of your pussy, his mind reads how you’re unable to speak, but yet begging him to continue.

You whimper when you’re filled once more, cum painting your walls entirely. This had to be different - this one actually stings a bit, almost as if it’s too much to handle as a human.

Taehyung is panting, his lips dangerously close to your ear. His cock twitches as he continues to cum inside of you, fully determined to do what he was summoned to do - breed you.

Taehyung doesn’t move nor does his cock soften inside of you. You remain still, as well, eyes heavy and you’re truly exhausted with the entire experience.

“You can leave now.” says the blind woman, her eyes glancing between you nearly unconscious and the demon. “I’m sure she’s with child and will show sooner than she expects.”

Taehyung remains quiet, there’s a bit of cum that falls out of you as he releases himself. He lets the grip of your hair go gently, allowing you to fall limp onto the ground.

Taehyung does leave - without another word - in a gush of black smoke.

It took you 7 months to learn the incantation to summon Taehyung.

You were large and it appeared as if your stomach never stopped moving but you’re positive that there isn’t only one child inside of you. Your eyes would catch more than two handprints and footprints at a time while they moved.

You accepted your fate rather quickly, drinking whatever medicine the witches had given you that would help ease the pain your children had caused throughout the pregnancy. Your body changed, of course, and you were always tired, hungry and thirsty.

Your thirst went beyond normal food and as the witches told you, your children wouldn’t accept just regular food. When you had tasted blood for the first time you thought it would disgust you, but it tasted so heavenly that you completely devoured several blood bags right before the witches.

It took everything in you to not attack your parents as they visited you in your home. You could smell their blood - thanks to your children - and they fought with you constantly to have a taste, but you managed to hold them off until they left and ate a large, raw and blood steak to satiate their desires.

What was new to you at the time was the demonic powers you’d possess because of the fetuses inside of you. You had since caused a fire in your home just because you were craving something you couldn’t have. In the next moment, the first was put out and seemingly out of thin air, what you were craving sat directly in front of you.

The teleportation had to be something to get used to - but you could say that you were completely fine with it. Possibly better than any other human woman would be at carrying demonic children.

You’d often ponder if they’d look like Taehyung - if they’d have baby horns and red skin; or a demon side to them at all. The witches had told you that they had a spell to cast off the demonic side to your babies, and yet you’re unsure if that’s something you’d want.

Your mind often lingers on Taehyung and had since the next day you woke up without him - and had not seen him since.

You hear Taehyung, as weird as it is. In your head, he often speaks to you at random times. It’s as if he was there, but truly wasn’t. He would answer certain questions you have about your demonic abilities and cravings.

“You’re carrying more than one spawn, they’re expecting to be fed more than acai bowls and water.”

“You caused the fire in your home, but they managed to protect you from it.”

“That sharp pain in your rib was one of them breaking it with their kick - the other healed you in a matter of seconds. You’ll have to get used to them fighting each other in the womb. It’ll only get worse when they’re actually born.”

Taehyung speaks with you - but he doesn’t show himself and a part of you wonders if he ever will.

Was it weird to want Taehyung around? You learned that he was a fertility demon and he had many children - both fully human now and fully demon. You’re unsure how you feel about being just another vessel for him to impregnate.

It took you 7 months to learn the incantation to summon Taehyung - to not summon him at all.

No, instead you summoned someone else, another demon. And now you’re frightened to have them standing tall before you.

Your breasts are bleeding, having used your blood to summon this demon.

“You,”

The demon doesn’t appear demonic like Taehyung was when he was summoned. He comes as a regular human man, but you’re wiser to know that he is anything but.

The man steps forward, dark hair bouncing on his shoulders.

Your dagger tightens in your grip and you raise it shakily in case you need to use it.

The demon chuckles. “That dagger won’t hurt me.” he says tauntingly. “Besides, if you were in any danger, your children would sense it and fight me off.”

You swallow.

“You smell like Taehyung…his being is embedded in you. Not only by pregnancy.” the demon sniffs the air, tilting his head. “You…you are the reason he has the Brotherhood in shambles. And to think they said I would be the one to go weak.”

You’re unsure of what the man is saying and you don’t question him. Your heart beats rapidly as he comes closer.

“W-Who are you?” you ask. “I-I tried to summon Tae-”

“My name’s Jungkook.” the man speaks. “You summoned me.” he says. “Obviously, you have yet to learn the correct incantation to summon a specific Brotherhood member so it chose a random one. Just my luck.”

Jungkook recalls how many years it’s been since Taehyung had found out about his child, stating that the Underworld were claiming him to be weak - how the tables have turned.

In such a short amount of time, Taehyung had resigned from his role as a fertility brotherhood member - something he has been for centuries - and it only meant that he had found a bound partner. Jungkook was no fool to why Taehyung had gone distant and it only meant that his partner had to be human like his once was.

“You haven’t seen Taehyung and that’s why you tried to summon him.”

You nod your head meekly, lowering your dagger.

“Typical of my brother to run away. Jimin.”

You go to speak but are interrupted when another man appears seemingly out of thin air. You yelp, flinching back.

“What do we have here?” the man, Jimin, speaks. He smells the air, nose flaring. “Tae…he has hid you well. Better than you had.” he says to Jungkook.

“Leave.”

Taehyung appears like the rest had, this time directly behind you. You’re shocked to see him again for the first time in months. Your heart leaps at the sight of him, and your stomach begins to move radically.

“Ah, they know you’re here.” Jimin says, a taunting tone in his voice. “The former fertility demon becomes a family man.”

“I suppose we both made a mockery of the Brotherhood.” Jungkook speaks, not forgetting how Taehyung once treated him and his pregnant partner.

“You still live in the past, brother?” Taehyung snorts with a shake of his head. “I’ve accepted your bound partner and your child. I was there at the birth was I not?”

“Speaking of births,” Jimin leans down to your sitting position, a hand placing itself onto your stomach. “You’ll be due soon and we’ll be there.”

“It’s tradition, brother.” Jungkook says mockingly. “To welcome your son and daughter to the Brotherhood.”

Your eyes widen.

You knew you were having more than one child - but you never knew the gender.

Your throat tightens at the thought of having one of each.

“Your first set of children to do so.”

“And only. Right, brother? You are no longer a fertility demon.” Jungkook tilts his head. “Such great news that I cannot wait to share with the rest of our brothers.”

Taehyung turns his eyes away and down at you. He doesn’t speak.

“Yoongi said something was going on with you. You’ve gone soft, brother? That’s a good thing.”

“Soft is something I am not, brother.” Taehyung retorts to Jimin. “Just because I once gave life to many does not mean I have not taken the same if not more.”

You listen to the three of them bicker, trying to wrap your head around what was going on.

“Leave and return to the Underworld and be sure to remind anyone just why I remain an Upper Level demon, brother.” Taehyung hisses, now stepping in front of you.

Jimin stands, eyeing Taehyung.

“We’ll be back when the babies are due to be born.” Jimin smiles devilishly. “Finding a bound partner is a blessing, brother.” he laughs at his own form of a joke.

They’re gone in a blink of an eye and now you’re left with just you and Taehyung.

You don’t speak, unsure on what to say. You haven’t seen Taehyung in so long that the sight of him makes you nervous.

“You didn’t have to summon me to see me, human.”

You sit a little straighter, dagger falling from your hands.

“All you had to do was call for me.”

“I-I don’t know how.” your body burns with heat as his eyes turn to you. “I-”

“I hear you. I always do.” Taehyung murmurs. “I can feel you. Your heart beat is linked to mine. When it risen was when I decided to come.”

You lick your lips, racking your brain around the words the three demons used.

“A bound partner is exactly what it sounds like.” Taehyung says, reading your mind exactly. “You’d be bound to me for eternity and taken to Hell. I have been bound to you, Human, since the day we conceived our children. You are not bound to me.”

You furrow your brows. “How could you be bound to me?” you ask. “I don’t remember anything?” “A blood binding. It started when I licked your blood…” Taehyung’s eyes drop to your cut breast, a sense of deja vu. “You drinking my blood would be one of many bindings.”

You swallow, the act of tasting blood causing your mouth to water.

“However, I have chosen not to do that. You have come to me to help you and that I shall.” Taehyung drops to his knees to look at you.

“And if I want you to?”

Taehyung snorts. “You are a weird human, Y/N.” he murmurs, dark eyes watching you. “You refuse to back down even now. Most demons wouldn’t spare your soul like I am.”

“You aren’t most demons. You’re an Upper-Level one.” you say boldly - unsure the hierarchy of demons were. “I want to be bound to you.”

“You don’t, human. Your emotions are all over the place.” Taehyung snickers. “Our children are causing you to feel this way because they crave their demonic part - which is me.”

“I want to be bound to you.” you repeat again, mind flashing with that night months prior to how well he had fucked you.

“And spend an eternity in Hell?”

You lick your lips. “Would we be with you?” you ask, voice low.

“Yes.”

“Then yes.” you nod your head. “I’ll spend an eternity in Hell.”

Taehyung watches your expression, truly believing you to be a weird individual.

You had a life on Earth. You had the funds to raise children and a family who supported you.

Why would you give it all up to join a demon in Hell?

“I was told you gave up your position.” you speak up to interrupt his thoughts. “I’m not sure what any of this means…”

“It means these are the only children that would be born by me that the Brotherhood would acknowledge.” his eyes flicker to your moving stomach, sensing that his children were content inside of you. “I won’t be having any more.”

You place a hand onto your stomach, a sudden kick right where it lays.

“I summoned you because I wanted to see you again.” you admit, but you’re sure he knows this if he was correct about his claims. “I want to be bound to you. This…” your eyes turn to the space you were occupying - but not just the space, the Human realm in general. “...It’s lonely. I’m surrounded by people but I’m still lonely. I get pitiful looks from my family constantly and…”

You don’t want to ramble about your human life and problems.

“...would going to Hell hurt?”

“Of course.” Taehyung doesn’t attempt to sugar coat anything.

“Will you be there when I get there? Would they?”

“Of course.” Taehyung repeats. “Hell…the Underworld as a whole is far different than the Human realm. You wouldn’t be able to return and see your family.”

You swallow, eyes on Taehyung’s.

“They would think you’d died. That, or their memory of you would be wiped entirely.”

Taehyung watches your reaction for anything. He knows humans and their emotions could be radical and they tend to keep their families close to their hearts.

“What were you planning on doing?” you asked.

Taehyung doesn’t answer because he himself wasn’t sure. He could bind their demonic side until they are of age - but that would only cause more work for the Brotherhood to teach a human raised demon how to live their lives in the Underworld.

There was the possibility of allowing them to keep their demonic powers in the Human realm, but demonic babies, toddlers and children were Hell to raise on a plain that didn’t possess the same abilities as them.

Taehyung supposed that he was leaving the decision up to you entirely to decide what you wished to do with them. One thing’s for certain, now that the Brotherhood knew of your existence, it was a matter of time before the Source did.

Your hand grabs the dagger and instantly, you slice his neck. Taehyung doesn’t react like a normal person would and it’s because you assume he doesn’t truly care - he’s had worse attacks.

Taehyung is more shocked that you slice his neck to then lick him, a way of completing the binding ritual yourself.

Taehyung’s blood is thick and rich, your tongue stroking the wound to get a better taste of him, hands throwing the knife and falling onto his chest. You grip his shirt to bring him closer, your senses heighten for a moment. It appears your children were awake, moving non-stop inside of you.

“You’re a weird human.” Taehyung’s voice sounds throughout your head. “Going to Hell because you’re lonely and hormonal.”

You snort, teeth grazing the side of his neck. Your hand falls slowly from his chest to his lap as you lean back. You lick your lips, tilting your head curiously.

Taehyung’s eyebrow lifts slightly. “My brother’s partner…wasn’t like you.” he notes, recalling the way Jungkook’s bound partner remained kind and reclusive.

However, you were carrying two demonic spawns that were feeding off of you on the daily and maybe they were slowly turning you away from whatever human-like emotions you had.

“What do you want me to do?” Taehyung asks you, your thoughts clouding his and he’s certain you want to ask him something.

“Nothing too drastic.” you shrug your shoulders. “Just kill my ex-husband.”

Taehyung blinks at you and you do the same.

“Of course.” Taehyung responds, leaning away from you to stand straight. “I’ll be back shortly.”

Your hand lays on your bump as Taehyung is gone in a blink of an eye, a satisfied feeling running through your body.

halloween masterlist

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cultivateme · 5 months ago

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explicit-tae · 1 year ago

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Metamorphosis

An alternate world in which you encounter someone in the middle of the night - a man seemingly hurt. Much to your luck, you were extremely wrong. (Teaser)

@juju-227592 @seokjinkismet @bloodline1632 @darkuni63 @castlewolfsbane @babycandy111 @chimmy-licious @whipwhoops @chimmisbae

Word Count: 8.669

Warning: demon jungkook, unsolicited touching/kissing/groping, ass slapping, humiliation kink, degradation kink, public sex, dirty talking, slight coercion, fingering, oral (f receiving), spanking, unprotected sex, blood play/licking, biting, creampie, squirting,

Alternate Universe | Halloween Masterlist | PART 2

“W-What’s happening?” you want to hold your baby close to you once more, inhale the soft baby scent that even a half demon like he had.

The six men surrounding you began to chant. You’re unsure what’s happening, but your heart sinks. There’s an uneasy feeling in your core.

“Jungkook…” you murmur, reaching out for him.

“It’s alright, my beautiful human.” Jungkook takes a step back with the baby, rocking him gently. “The bond has been completed. Now we can be together for eternity. In Hell.”

The room begins to shake, as if an earthquake was beginning to happen. The candles on the stone walls all fall, falling onto the ground and erupting around you.

“Jungkook!” you shout, your nails clenching the thin sheet surrounding you. What in the world is going on right now?

“The pain will not last long, my beautiful human…” Jungkook trails off. His son begins to cry, feeling the distress coming from his mother - noted seeing as he was just as connected to you as he was to Jungkook. “...once it’s over, you can reunite with us in Hell. We will be waiting for you.”

You cross your arms in front of yourself firmly, shivering as the heavy rain fully engulfs you. You’re soaking wet and obviously pissed. You had gotten off of work late due to your boss being an asshole - you had stayed hours past your scheduled time out. Usually you would have not cared because extra hours meant extra money - but today was different. Every Friday you made it your mission to visit the cemetery and place flowers onto your mothers grave. Since you have gotten off of work late into the night, there was no time to stop for flowers (and it would be useless due to the rain).

Not only were you stuck in the rain, but you had to walk the entire way to the cemetery, then home. There were no buses running at this time and that meant you were in for an hour walk home after the already 30 minute walk to the cemetery. Let’s not forget that you saw your boss drive right past you without any eye contact.

The sky is dark and starless and there appeared to be little to no street lights on. The only light you do get comes from the moon high above. You've seen this before in a horror movie. A lone girl walking at night and bam, a killer chasing after her. Maybe you shouldn’t be thinking like this at this time, but you couldn’t help it. You were utterly hopeless with no one to call at this time - and even if you did, it’s pouring rain and your phone is tucked deep into your purse to not get it any more damage than it already was.

Your feet ached as you reached the cemetery. The rain was dying down, but you were already soaking wet and it was the least of your concerns now. It took a few more strolls until you reached the familiar headstone belonging to your mother. You sigh, dropping to your knees. You would regret it later while getting the mud stains off of your work clothes, but you were off the next two days and that was enough to not think about it further.

Visiting your mother was bittersweet. Sometimes you’d go just to pay your respects, other times you would speak as if she was there with you - talking about your day and what was new in your life. Now you were exhausted and your body ached, you remained silent and enjoyed the quiet company.

You’re unsure how long you’ve sat there, but you noticed that the rain began to pick up once more. You knew by tomorrow, you would be sick and decided to call it a night. You’d probably even decide to visit once more when the rain cleared up the following day to bring the flowers you couldn’t bring today.

You got off of your knees, touching the gravestone lightly before making your way out of the cemetery. Your eyes remained forward as your feet strolled through the grassy field. You cursed at your luck - your clothing stuck to you and it was becoming uncomfortable to walk.Your shoes are covered in mud and grime and it’s nearly pitch black in said cemetery, the moon shining but so much.

Your feet halt in their tracks. You blink your eyes, zoning in on a figure not far away from you. The figure appeared to be hunched over, on their own knees. You clench your burse tighter, eyes blinking away the droplets of rain to try to get a better look.

The moonlight shines off of the figure and it appears to glow - it’s a person, no doubt. You ponder if they’re there for the same reason you are - but not everyone would be caught in the rain paying respect to a deceased loved one, right?

You begin to step closer to the figure, unsure of what your body is doing. Your mind is screaming out alarm bells, that something wasn’t right and this could end up going completely wrong.

The figure’s head lifts up, shining eyes glowing in the dark. A man, you note, just as drench in the rain as you were. Black hair sticks to his scalp and covers the majority of his forehead. Just as before, he appeared to be shining underneath the moonlight.

“Are you o-okay?” you stutter out, uneasy with the intense stare of the man. You can make out his features - chiseled jawline, sharp eyes and full lips.

Your throat swallows a lump, body visibly stiffening upon noticing the man's eyes turning a shade of crimson. There was no possible way you were seeing things.

The man begins to lift from his knees and once onto his feet, your mind is screaming at you to run. The man is tall - and athletically built. He wore a suit of the sorts, completely black that it nearly disguises him in the dark scenery.

Your heart is beating outside your chest, your mind coming back to reality when he begins to step closer to you. His feet snap a twig beneath them. You want to run - you can even feel the way your body jerks to do so, but you cannot.

What?

What the fuck?

Your heart beats even louder that even the pouring rain is no match for it. Your hands clench your purse tighter against you.

Breathe.

Why is it becoming harder to breathe?

Your throat tightens.

Your body begins to shudder, trembling. You’re unsure what in the world is going on with you right now. You’re trembling, feeling a rush of cold air go through you one moment and the next, you’re burning up. Your body temperature hightens, as if your blood is boiling at a rapid pace. Your clothes being wet and sticking to you already didn’t make anything better.

“You,”

Your eyes widen hearing the man's voice so clear - as if there wasn’t rain pouring. The wind kicked up, swirling around you, yet still, his voice was coherent.

“are such a beautiful little human.”

Air filled your lungs once more and finally, you were able to breathe. Your mind swirls around on his words - a beautiful little human? What did that mean?

The man appears in front of you in a blink of an eye - how you didn’t fall back with a scream, you’re truly unsure. He’s tall, towering over you with his menacing gaze - eyes appearing even darker with a mysterious glint to them. Those eyes…they weren’t human, you note, they couldn’t be. Even if his overall appearance to be that of a human man - there was no man you met with such crimson eyes.

The man offers you a smile - no, a smirk. It didn’t appear genuine like a smile someone would give you upon introducing themselves. This was a cunning one; devious.

You do not realize that you’ve dropped your purse until it hits your feet. Your body still feels hot, temperature rising every second.

You feel the man's hand place itself against the skin of your cheek - they were calloused and even hotter than your own skin. His thumb traces the outline of your lips and you can hear he’s humming to himself.

“Your heart is beating so loud, beautiful. Are you afraid of me?” the man questions. “Do I frighten you? Or do I make you nervous?”

“Whoever dwells in the shelter of the Most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty.” you manage to say - more stutter. Breathing was difficult enough, but speaking appeared to be a battle.

The man chuckles. “A prayer?”

“I will say of the Lord, “He is my refuge and my fortress, my God, in whom I trust.” Surely he will save you from the fowler’s snare and from the deadly pestilence. He will cover you with his feathers-”

You feel your throat tighten once more, this time by the man's hands. He forces you closer to him. “Shut up.” he hisses. “Your prayers do not affect me, beautiful. It makes me want to ruin you even more.”

Your body was feeling weird. Goosebumps prickled your skin - you can feel it beneath your clothing - and your stomach was beginning to bubble. You closed your eyes to not look into his eyes, but even then you could see them glaring at you.

“Christ be with me, Christ within me, Christ behind me, Christ before-” your prayer is cut short when a pair of lips are against yours. You’re struggling against the lips, a muffled scream dying in your throat.

The man removes himself from you, but he holds you close. His hands wrap tightly beneath your chin. Your eyes squeeze shut, heart thumping rapidly.

“You can feel it, right, beautiful?” The man's words are sultry, coming out more as a moan than a regular statement. “I know what it’s doing to you. I know you can feel it…right here…”

You gasp, feeling a tense grip between your legs. Your eyes snap open, the crimson eyes .boring right into your own. You want to jolt away from his prying hands - to push this man, no, this monster away.

“I know, beautiful…” the man sing-songs. “...the arousal feels amazing. Doesn’t it feel like you’re sinning for me, Y/N?”

You froze. Your eyes couldn't even grow wider. This man knew your name.

This man, whoever he was, knew you. He knew you’d be here visiting your mothers grave - that or he followed you.

“Yes, beautiful, I know your name.” the man chuckles, his hand rubbing along your clothed head. “I’ve always known your name. I’ve known of your existence since the day you were born.”

This man wasn’t human - your heart told you. His eyes, his words; he was something otherworldly.

“Dear Father, Thank You for protecting me. Thank You for the angels that you assign to watch over me. I can be at peace today knowing that my very life is in Your hands-”

You squirm feeling a sickly substance upon your cheek. The man is licking you now - up your jaw, to your chin and now your cheek. His fingers hold your face in place in a tight grip. He reaches your ear, flicking the lobe. “Praying won’t stop me from having you, beautiful.”

This monster was doing something to you and your body. You would never feel this way. He had you under a spell - your legs are clenching against his prying hand. You could feel a pool of slick sticking to your panties - and so does the man.

“I need your help in this battle. I cannot walk alone, Lord-”

“Ah, that prayer!” the man cackles. “You feel it running through you, beautiful. The lust. You’re moaning right underneath my hand, beautiful. I can smell the sweet smell of your pussy.”

The man's words are so vulgar that you’re unable to respond. His hands cup your clothed heat even tighter. The hand that once grips your chin now loosens so he could push you closer against him.

“You’re a monster.” you hiss - but it’s not a regular hiss. No, the man notes this tone. It’s a moan of disgust, but a moan nonetheless.

“I am.” the man chuckles. “A demon straight from Hell, beautiful.”

Your throat releases a scream when your hair is yanked backwards. Your eyes are towards the sky, the droplets of rain blinding your eyes. You continue to scream when you feel teeth against your neck, biting down.

You want to fight the man - this predator. This demon. Your prayers aren’t working and appear to be falling on deaf ears.

The man shudders at the taste of your blood. So pure and not laced with any impurities. But he wasn’t here for your blood - no, this was just a part of the ritual.

“My name is Jungkook.” the man purrs, licking his lips of your delicious blood. “Finally, you’re mine.”

You cough. Your hands are clenching onto Jungkook’s chest unwillingly. You’re trembling, eyes fluttering.

“You’re afraid of me, beautiful?” Jungkook tsks. His tongue licks the wound of your neck, twirling it up to your chin and to your lips. He presses an open mouth kiss onto your lips and moans.

“I’m not yours.” you wheeze out.

“Oh…” Jungkook could only laugh. “...but you are, beautiful.”

Jungkook’s hand squeezes your ass. “I can smell your arousal. You’re so wet for me, Y/N. You’re clenching and unclenching around nothing.”

You feel ashamed by how true Jungkook’s words were. You want to cry out - you didn’t belong to this demon! You were a part of your local Church and attended said church with your mothers for years. You prayed constantly, remained God as your main priority and prayed away whatever petty sins you committed.

“You belonged to me the day your mother gave birth to you, my love.” Jungkook’s hand pulls at your clothes. Your shirt rips in seconds, revealing your bra beneath. “That was part of the deal, after all.”

Deal?

Your hands grasp Jungkook’s wrist when his hands tug along your pants. You didn’t match his strength, and like your shirt, your pants are ripped to pieces.

“I won’t submit to you, demon.”

Jungkook wants to coo at your cuteness. No matter how many times you denied him, he wouldn’t listen. You were going to be his regardless of what you felt - he had waited decades to get what he was promised. You had no skill, will or strength to deny him anything - you were already aroused. Soon, you would be begging for him and he would give you what you’ll be begging for.

You are turned away from him and flipped. Your face meets the muddy ground. You squirm when you feel your hips being lifted by Jungkook’s arm. The position is filthy and you want to be removed from this humiliating state.

Jungkook marvels at the sight of you - face down, ass up. So cute and exactly how you were expected to be. One hand grips your ass, gently rubbing before he brings his hand back and slaps it roughly.

You scream once more at the impact, and again and again. Jungkook continued, crimson eyes darkening at the sight of you squirming beneath him.

“P-Please stop!”

Jungkook hums. “Why?” He slaps your ass once more, the sound like a melody to his ears. His hands trail between your legs to rub gently. “You’re so wet for me.”

Your eyes squeeze shut, teeth biting your lips to repress a moan. You can feel yourself grow wetter at the second and that’s what frightens you. You didn’t want to fall into temptation due to the demons hold against you.

“Let’s see just how filthy you are, huh?”

“N-No!”

Jungkook fingers hooks between your panties. He pushes them aside and finds his mouth watering. “Such a whore you truly are, beautiful. So wet and clenching around nothing.”

You couldn’t help the groan that comes from your throat when he rubs a thumb against it. Your thighs quiver to close, but Jungkook only slaps your throbbing ass once more to punish you.

Jungkoom continues to rub along your clit, fingers sliding between your folds effortlessly. He can feel his pants tightening at just the sight of you.

“So wet.” Jungkook grunts. He smirks, fingers dangerously close to your opening. “I can just slide…”

“N-No!” you gasp, but even with your pleas, your legs widen for him.

“...right in.” Jungkook enters two fingers inside of you. So warm and wet - and inviting. He pumps his fingers inside, marveling at how you take him so well. “You’re milking my fingers, beautiful. Good little whore you are, huh?”

You shake your head, eyes squeezing shut.

Why?

Why were you moaning for this demon? Why was your body not cooperating with your brain? Why were you so wet and aroused with such sinful acts?

“J-Jungkook…please!”

Jungkook groans. “That’s right, beautiful. Just give in.” he murmurs, his fingers picking up the pace. “It’ll be over if you just submit to me.”

“N-No…” You don’t want to moan any more. You can feel a familiar feeling in the pit of your stomach.

Jungkook removes his fingers from inside of you. He doesn’t allow you to fall forward. He lifts you and presses you against him. “Taste yourself.” he hisses and before you can protest, he enters two of his fingers inside of your mouth.

Your tongue swirls against his fingers unwillingly, your juices hitting your tongue.

“I wonder if you taste as divine as you smell, beautiful.” Jungkook whispers in your ear, popping his fingers from your mouth. “Give me a taste.”

“N-No…”

Jungkook hums. “No?”

You nod your head.

“Then why are you leaning against me, beautiful? Why are your hips jerking for more pleasure?”

Jungkook flips you once more. He’s laid against the ground and has you hovering above him. You’re firmly in his grasp, unable to escape. His teeth - so sharp and canine like - bite at your underwear until they’re as ripped as your shirt and pants were.

You gasp when Jungkook places you on his lips. You’re sitting directly on his tongue, palms back against his abdomen for balance as he licks between your folds.

Jungkook grunts. “So sweet, beautiful.” he murmurs before going back to ravishing you.

Your eyes are unable to remove themselves from the sight before you. Jungkook’s tongue - long with and split at the end, rapidly lick upon your clit and between the folds. You could no longer hide your moans, allowing the pleasure to run through you.

This was wrong.

This is a demon - no matter how attractive he may be, this was a demon.

You consider yourself a child of God, fully committed to your faith.

But Jungkook using his tongue to pleasure you felt far too amazing to not moan - too amazing to protest his advances any longer. And, as sad as it sounds, far too amazing for you to utter the word of God in hopes of stopping him.

Jungkook’s nails dig into the skin of your inner thigh. Your scent intoxicates his mind, your slick sliding against his tongue. Finally, you were his - and now you weren’t refusing him. Your moans are loud - even with the rain starting up once more. You were giving in to your rightful urges as his.

Jungkook’s eyes flicker to your face. Such a beautiful face contorted with pleasure. Mouth agape and moaning with pleasure, the droplets of rain trailing down your skin. It glistens beneath the moonlight.

“My beautiful human.” Jungkook growls. His tongue swipes at your clit once more. “Pleasure yourself against my tongue.”

Jungkook slaps your thigh in encouragement. He wants you completely submerged in pleasure that you would willingly participate in.

Your hips jerk forward and onto his tongue. A deep moan comes from your throat and you now find yourself thrusting onto Jungkook - a demon. Your eyes squeeze shut, wanting nothing more than to feel your release.

Jungkook’s hands roam your body, tongue laying flat while you use him. They trail up your thighs to your hips, wrapping around them to encourage you to go faster. He then slides them up your sides to grasp your breast from your bra. He squeezes them, pinching the sensitive bubs of your nipples.

“J-Jungkook, I-I can’t take it!”

Jungkook pinches your nipple once more. He clamps down onto them so hard that you scream out, lifting yourself from his tongue, juices releasing.

And Jungkook’s laps every drop, a groan rumbling deep within his soul.

Whatever soul Jungkook had deep within Hell that was.

You fall limp against his legs, legs quivering.

“My poor beautiful human.” Jungkook moves your body so that he is on top of you. “Came so hard that you can barely function.”

Jungkook leans down to swipe his tongue against your cheek once more, the reason you’re unsure of.

“I’m going to make you cum over and over again.”

The rain falls even harder, but the majority of it is hidden beneath Jungkook’s body. He kicks off his pants along with his underwear.

You can’t see it, but you feel how large Jungkook is when he forces himself inside of you. You feel like you’re being stretched to the max. Your arms wrap around his neck tightly, breathing hitching.

“Beautiful human…so tight.” Jungkook growls. “Made just for me. My perfect little human.”

Jungkook doesn’t allow you the luxury to adjust to his size. He thrusts deeply inside of you, cracking his hips harshly. Your back hits against the muddy dirty roughly with each thrust. You were going to be filthy once this ended - if it ever did. This was a demon here with you? Did a demon’s stamina ever go out? It wasn’t like he was human.

“Jungkook, please!” you plead with him, but Jungkook doesn’t want to hear it. His teeth clamp down onto your skin, biting it harshly enough to release blood. “I-I can’t handle-”

“You can!” Jungkook hisses. He leans back to admire your disheveled appearance. You were covered in mud, blood and soaking wet. Your hair is sticking to you and your eyes are struggling to stay open. But to him - you were perfect. “Finally mine.”

There’s a bulge in your stomach, reminding you just who you were fucking. Jungkook is a demon.

A demon.

You were going to Hell surely.

There’s blood trailing down your thigh, but still Jungkook refuses to halt his abusive thrusts.

“Your soul, your mind, your heart and your body belong to me.” Jungkook growls, appearing utterly animalistic. “All mine, Y/N. My beautiful human. And all it took was a deal from your father.”

Your father?

You didn’t have a father - physically. You were raised with two mothers; when you grew up you never had a reason to look for who your biological father was. You asked your mothers, sure, but it was stated he was someone who provided them sperm and nothing more.

“He got what he wanted and in return…”

Jungkook flips you onto your knees. He wraps an arm around your neck and enters you once more. He continues the brutal pace, skin slapping and echoing off of the trees. You’re not sure if you were going to survive this. Your insides hurt - even if it came with brief pleasure. Your body was aching just as bad and Jungkook showed no chance of stopping.

“...in return…I got you, beautiful human of mine…” Jungkook grunts. “...you’ll be coming back home with me to Hell.”

It was your alarm that had woken you up that following morning. You jerked upward, eyes scanning the room. Your room.

You were in your room.

You inhaled deeply and exhaled just the same. Your ears are ringing and your fluttering eyes are attempting to adjust to the sunlight coming from your bedroom window.

Your aching legs manage to move. You swing them around your bed and lift yourself. You managed to make it to your mirror and you gasped.

You weren’t dirty nor covered in mud like you expected. That couldn’t have been a dream - everything felt far too realistic to be one. You were intimate with a demon - he had told you that you were his because of a father you never met.

Your eyes scan the scars and bruises littering your body. There’s hand marks upon your throbbing skin, one around your neck and two on both sides of your waist. You can see the bite marks that drew blood on your neck and another between your thighs.

You want to cry, but felt that even that would be hypocritical. You allowed a demon into your body - to have something precious that should have belonged to your human partner. You have learned from an early age that demons were tricksters and you had fallen into their trap.

You shower until the hot water runs cold - and even then you did not want to remove yourself. You washed your skin countless times in hopes to rid yourself of the sick feeling, but it never left. You could feel his hands on your body now as if he was here - his teeth and his tongue grazing along onto your skin.

Your mind betrayed you as did your body. There’s flashes replaying the long night Jungkook had bestroved for you. How he had taken you so roughly against the cemetery ground, both of you covered in blood. How he had flipped you and taken you against a tree, allowed you on top of him - almost every inch of the area you had been fucked on.

You clench your legs together and clench your fists. You dried your body, trying to rid your thoughts of the sinful encounter - but they wouldn’t leave. You were beginning to feel the uncomfortable throb between your legs once more.

Pray.

You had to pray.

You dressed in fresh clothing and went towards your vanity. Your rosary would be there. You grasp it in your hands, ready to send a prayer when the rosary begins to burn in your hands. You screamed, dropping it to the floor and watching with wide eyes as it began to burn through the hardwood floor.

“No…”

You trembled, not taking your sight off of the burning rosary.

You were too far gone - you were damned to Hell.

The tears finally came. You have dropped to your knees now, praying for forgiveness for the sins you committed. Your God would understand - he had to. You didn’t want to sleep with the demon that was Jungkook. You had no choice. He had you underneath a demonic spell that had you moaning his name, crying tears of lust and pleasure…

Had you been screaming his name, claiming how much you wanted Jungkook…

You wrapped your arms around him and begged for more - each and every time…

The feeling was returning. The familiar arousal between your legs and the warm feeling against your skin. You lay upon the cool hardwood floor, wanting nothing more than for your temperature to subside.

Why you?

Why were you being cursed by Jungkook?

What was the supposed deal Jungkook made with your biological father? And even so, you didn’t even know the man. Was he even still alive?

“Beautiful human.”

Your body jerks at the sound of Jungkook - his sultry voice.

Jungkook leans against the nearest wall of your bedroom. He’s sporting all black once more, this time a fitted shirt and slacks. His eyes are the familiar shade of crimson and they watch you closely.

“Look at you. In a pool of your own arousal once more.” Jungkook shakes his head, a smirk placed on such beautiful lips…

You shake your head. This wasn’t your mind thinking - it had to be the demonic spell.

“I have not put you under any spell.”

Can he read your mind?

“I can read your mind, beautiful.” Jungkook states. “You can learn to read mine. Once we venture to Hell.”

You aren’t going to Hell. You were going to ask God for his forgiveness - to be allowed to be underneath his guidance once more.

“God…” Jungkook chuckles darkly. “...will never take you. He never had you to begin with, beautiful. Why do you think it was so easy for me to get my hands on you?”

The familiar tightening in your throat, the heat radiating your skin and the goosebumps were returning. Your clit throbbed uncomfortably as if your body knew Jungkook was near.

“Your body will always submit to me, beautiful. As it belongs to me.”

No.

No!

“I know you feel the arousal once more. How wet you are. You’re such a needy little thing, huh?” Jungkook cackles loudly. “Touch yourself, beautiful. See how wet you are.”

No.

You weren’t going to.

If so, why were your hands going beneath your shorts to touch yourself?

“It’s okay, beautiful. Touch yourself and watch me.”

You want to deny him the satisfaction of watching you, but you’re already succumbing to his demonic spell. You were positive that he’s done something to your mentality that you could never deny him.

“I-I can’t.” you snatch your hands from your shorts, feeling flush with embarrassment.

“That just means you want me to, huh?” Jungkook is kneeling down beside you in the blink of an eye. You want to ask how he does it, but you’re afraid of the answer. You weren’t ready to go down a rabbit hole of demonic entities and powers.

“No…?”

“Is that a question, beautiful?”

Jungkook’s already tugging your pants down and taping your thighs aside. He’s amused by how easily you give into him.

“Go ahead and tell me no.” Jungkook plays with the lace of your underwear. Your clit is visible to him - wet and inviting as always. “Then I'll leave.”

“You’ll leave?”

Don’t sound disappointed, you think. You wanted this demonic entity gone - right?

“Of course. Tell me to leave, Y/N. And I’ll go.”

Jungkook hooks a finger inside your laced panties with a shake of his head. So divine and so sweet - even after he completely ruined you not long ago.

Tell him to go.

Tell him to leave you alone and to never return.

Be stern, you think. Resist him and the impure thoughts of this demon.

But you don’t. Those words never leave your lips.

“Already so wet, my beautiful human.” Jungkook enters a finger inside of you for a second. He then removes it and enters it inside his mouth. “And taste so heavenly.” he cackles. “Heavenly for someone going to Hell.”

You don’t respond to Jungkook’s words. He’s already entering his fingers back inside of you. He pumps slowly at first to get you comfortable - and then he’s rapid. The sounds of his moving fingers echo off the walls of your bedroom - mixed with your moans of pleasure. It sends shockwaves throughout your body.

It’s so sinful, you think. How when you were a child with your mothers going to church, even if the three of you got awkward stares - how you read the bible alongside them. You prayed every night before bed, before every meal - you needed to know where exactly you went wrong.

“Still blaming yourself, sweetheart?” Jungkook’s so beautiful, you think. You recall many times hearing that demons were often beautiful to trick you into sinning with them. “I told you, you were destined to me long before you were even born.”

You feel Jungkook’s fingers hitting your g-spot, curling inside of you with each thrust. It’s as if he was going deeper and deeper each time. You don’t want to look at the beautiful man, but it’s as if he compels you to. His crimson eyes - so captivating and inhumane. You were told that you were under no spell, but that had to be a lie - demons always lie.

“I never tell no lies, my beautiful human.” Jungkook comes closer to you, licking his lips. “What you feel right now is not due to any spell, but your own body submitting to me.”

Your soft moans only fuel Jungkook on further. His tongue licks along the skin of your collarbone. Your thighs tremble with pleasure when you feel his teeth once more - he’s biting you. It doesn’t hurt, you note, not like it did when he bit you at the cemetery.

You’re breathing quicken and your eyes snaps shut; you were going to cum. You cannot remember when you ever felt this much pleasure in such a short amount of time until now, and all you can truly think about was succumbing deeper and deeper into the pleasure.

“I know you feel it coming.” Jungkook’s breath tickles your neck as he speaks. “Say my name, beautiful human. Who is the demon who’s going to make you cum?”

“J-Jungkook…!” you shout, feeling the wave of pleasure shoot out of you. It engulfs your entire body, shuddering up the back of your spine and causing goosebumps to litter your skin.

It was when you opened your eyes did you think you were going crazy - completely insane. Jungkook was gone, seemingly never in front of you. Your fingers were inside of you instead of his own, completely soaked in your slick.

“How did you find me? I know your…mothers. They wouldn’t give up that information.”

It took a week to track down your biological father - a week of torment each night with Jungkook. You cried after you realized that you masturbated, not because you thought it was wrong - you’ve done so before. But because you weren’t sure what was real and what was fake anymore. No prayer stopped Jungkook from returning to you each night - and you never told him yourself to stop; your body submitting to him each time like he’s stated.

You visited your mother on the third day and even she saw the bags beneath your eyes. She questions your appearance, but all you could think about was the very man before you - it took hours to convince her, but she eventually caved.

“Well…” your father murmurs, sighing after a moment of silence. “...what do you want? Money?”

Your eyes roam over the large estate he lived in. Money would’ve been nice if there wasn’t a literal demon fucking you every night - but even you wouldn’t think to ask him for money. He was nothing but a donor for your mother’s to have a child, never truly intending to be in your life.

“What deal did you make with the demon?” you ask bluntly.

Your father’s eyes widen slightly at your choice of words. He turns to close the doors to the office you sat in before turning back to you.

“What…are you talking about?” he coughs, turning back to you.

“What deal did you make with the demon that’s tormenting me?” you don’t mean for your tone to come out harsh, but it does. You were upset - rightfully so. “What are you? A musician? You promised that son of a bitch your first born child for a record deal-”

“I’m not a musician.” he raises his hands in an attempt to calm you. “H-How did you find me-”

“Are you not listening?!” you take a deep breath, again, not wanting to appear too angered. “There’s a demon tormenting me every night. He said that my…father,” you didn’t want to call him that. He had no intentions of ever being in your life, he was nothing but a donor. But it didn’t matter to Jungkook. “made a deal with him. What the fuck was the deal you made with the demon? Why am I the one being tormented when I know you have other children-”

“You are my first born daughter.” the man caves. His voice comes out in a whisper and barely audible. “I have a son older than you before I made the deal.” his voice is cracking - was he guilty? After all these years did he feel bad for whatever he’s done? “I…I needed money to support my family. The demon said if I had a daughter that I…” the man blinks away from you. “...my wife fell pregnant with another son after we made the deal. That demon was upset. I’ll never forget those eyes. He threatened to kill my wife and kids if I didn’t give him a daughter. That was the plan. I never knew demons were specific with gender.”

Your blood runs cold as his words ring in your mind.

“I…what’s your name?”

You’re taken aback by his sudden interest. “Y/N.” you murmur.

“I thought the demon…I don’t know what I thought.” he sighs. “I kept tabs on you for years now and you remained alive. The demon didn’t take you when you were born like I initially thought he would. Each year passed and I began to think that maybe…he forgot? He didn’t want you anymore.”

You want to laugh. To think your life was given away before you were ever conceived. Your eyes roam the large office space and linger on a picture - a family one. The man before you with a woman, his wife, and two boys - his sons. They appeared happy as a small family of four.

You sniffle, unsure truly if you could be upset with him. He was only doing what he thought was right at the time, trying to provide for his family. You ponder what would happen if he did have a daughter instead of a second son - would Jungkook have been tormenting her instead of you?

You shake your head.

“I have to go.” you exhale. “I-”

“I am…so sorry.”

You glance at the man’s way and nod your head.

“So am I.” you murmur to him, your legs already walking towards the door of his office.

Your body is sweating, beads of sweat pooling down your skin. Your shirt sticks to you thickly and you’re sure that this is how you were going to die - or pass out. Whichever came first.

Your eyes snap and you lean your head back, cupping your forehead. You sat at your desk, your work forgotten about.

It’s been two months now since you've been tormented by Jungkook - though he had been missing for the last week. You were grateful - in a way - that he has not returned. Your body needed the rest.

Your throat closes up and your eyes snap open. You never ran as fast as you did now, pushing past your co-workers to make your way into the restroom. You slam the stall door open and hurl right into the toilet. You felt physically ill, vomiting for the next ten minutes.

You were sent home once a co-worker found you like that, crying and vomiting - you weren’t even sure you had enough in your stomach to continue, but your body kept on.

It was the following day - you were given a few days off to recover - when you noticed that something was terribly wrong with you. You visited your mother that night for dinner - she claimed that you looked both hungry and ill. She was just going to start dinner - steak - and that you needed to relax while she finished up.

You thought the smell of raw meat would disgust you, but it didn't. While your mother washed dishes in the sink, humming to herself, you opened the fridge to find yourself something to drink. You were parched and now growing hotter by the second. You smelt it first - the raw steak your mother had placed in the fridge for another day. She hadn’t seasoned it yet like she usually did and it caught your eyes almost instantly. Your eyes glanced before the fridge door to your mother, scrubbing along the dishes.

You grasp the bowl the steak was placed in and sniff it, your stomach rumbling. Before you can process what you’re doing, you sink your teeth into the raw meat, the blood oozing from the corner of your lips. It tasted delicious - finally something you could smell or taste without vomiting it up moments after.

Your mind suddenly clicks on what in the world you’re doing. You slam the fridge door shut and hurl the bitten steak in the trash. You feel ill - not because you just ate raw meat, but because you liked it.

“You ate raw meat?” your doctor asks, chuckling awkwardly. “That cannot be good.”

“That’s why I’m here.” you murmur, playing with your fingers to not look your doctor in the eye. “There must be something wrong with me. I-I sweat constantly. I always feel sick. I can’t sleep most nights-”

“That’s what we were looking into.” your doctor nods, offering you a kind smile. “We ran some tests and a part of the problem can be answered. You’re pregnant.”

Pregnant.

Pregnant?

You shake your head slowly, eyes now widening at the doctor. “I can’t be…” you trail off.

The only person - were demons even people? Your mind races at the word pregnant. You were only sexually active with Jungkook - an act you weren’t sure if you had complete control over.

Demons had to be infertile - you were a human woman. There was no way you could be pregnant by a demon.

“We took multiple tests, Y/N. Would you like for me to perform a sonogram?”

You’re starting to feel ill again.

“Y-Yea.” you whisper.

The gel placed upon your stomach is cold. You don’t want to look upon the screen, but you’re drawn to it.

Your doctor hums. “That’s weird.” he murmurs. “The baby appears large.”

You’re unsure how to read the screen, but you try your hardest.

“But you’re rather small. You are still in the beginning stages of your pregnancy.” your doctor continues.

You pull your eyes away from the screen.

You shake your head.

“I can’t have this baby.”

Your doctor glances at you, but he doesn’t say anything but nod.

“Is there a way I can set up an appointment?” you continue. “I-I can’t keep this baby.”

Your doctor nods again. “We can set one up as soon as we have available. Let me speak-”

Your doctor coughs, and then begins to clench his chest. You lean forward as he begins to cough blood. He proceeds to fall to the ground, sonogram equipment crashing alongside him.

You swing your legs around to get up from the hospital bed. You swing the door open and scream out. “I-I think he’s having a heart attack in here!”

The room swarms with nurses, all pushing you aside. You couldn’t take your eyes off of your doctor as he’s being ushered out. Even as you make your way back home, did you feel as though you were at fault.

You swing the door to your home open and walk in. You close it behind you and wake your way towards your bedroom.

“Y/N.”

You come face to face with Jungkook.

“Welcome home, my beautiful human.” Jungkook offers you a smile, small dimples on display. “I’ll allow this realm to be your home for now.”

You shake your head.

Jungkook takes a few steps closer to you. “You’re glowing.” he hums.

“You did this to me.” you hiss his way. “You put this…thing in me-”

“Thing?” Jungkook cackles, red eyes glaring at you. “You mean our child?”

“This isn’t a child.”

“But it is, my beautiful human. Made with our flesh and blood. A product of our love.” Jungkook is in front of you in a matter of seconds. He turns you around so you are facing the floor-length mirror in your room. He places a hand upon your stomach. “Such a powerful being to rival the strongest and most powerful demons of the underworld. I can feel it.”

You feel your throat tighten.

“You cannot feel such power yet. But as he grows throughout the months, so will his powers. They’ll be similar to my own.”

He?

“Yes. He. It’s a boy - I can feel him. He can also feel your disappointment, my beautiful human. You don’t want our child to feel hatred while he’s not yet been born.”

You shake your head. You didn’t want a child - not with a demon. You had your life planned the best you could. Find a man that you loved, get married - have children when the time was right.

This time was not right.

“It is right.” Jungkook lifts your shirt to reveal your stomach. You feel disgusted that it begins to move. You’ve never seen anything like it. Women in early pregnancy didn’t look like you now. It was as if the child inside of you was attempting to claw its way out.

“Our childs power has shown itself today. He had his first kill.” Jungkook appears proud, crimson eyes shining. “It was self-defense. You tried to get rid of him, Y/N. He knows you did.”

Your heart sinks. Your doctor having a form of a heart attack, bleeding out in front of you. That was you - the child you were pregnant with.

You blink rapidly to not cry, even if you desperately wanted to.

“Everything would be fine if you would stop fighting your destiny. You were destined to be mine - to submit to me. You are now having our child.”

Jungkook removes his hands from your stomach and lifts it in the air. From his reflection, you witness a small box appear in his hand.

“How do you feel, Y/N?” Jungkook asks, opening the box. “Do you feel nauseous? Headache? Hot?”

You shake your head, watching Jungkook remove a ring from the box. “I know,” he says. “you haven’t felt that way since you walked inside the room. It’s because our child feels welcomed with me around him. He isn’t on alert. He feels safe.”

Jungkook turns you around, holding up the ring. It’s large, a dark stone at the center surrounded by smaller diamonds. He grabs your hand in his own, sliding the ring onto your finger. “You humans enjoy jewelry as an act of commitment.” he states. “Now here it is. Consider us…married.” Jungkook shrugs his shoulders.

Jungkook offers a smile, unbeknownst to you, a cunning one. Humans were always easy to manipulate.

Your chest is ready to explode into small pieces. Your chest is tingling, you unwillingly inhale hoping that your lungs would be filled with air - the perfect amount of oxygen needed. Instead, it fills with water. Your head begins to feel numb and light, almost as if it’s going to crack open.

You feel dizzy, as if it dawned onto you just now that you were going to die here. Your arms flapped around for anything, but the weight of the water just brings you down deeper and deeper.

You managed to open your eyes, but the water isn’t clear. It’s hard to make out your surroundings and you cannot fathom what you’ve done to get here.

You clenched your eyes shut in hopes the ringing in your head would go away, but it didn’t. Instead, it got louder and louder.

There’s no air left in your lungs, nothing keeping you alive.

Your flaring hands cup your stomach - the bump that grew larger throughout the months. Your baby. Your heart sinks at the thought that not only you would be dying right now, but so would your son - even if a part of him was Jungkook, a demon, he was still a part of you.

Your chest burned while the rest of your body ached. You could no longer fight your kicking legs. You feel yourself sink deeper and deeper into the abyss, your surroundings only growing darker and darker.

Your mind, what little left you had of it, screamed for Jungkook to save you - that he was truly your only hope left. Not just for you, but for the child you both shared.

Your screams echo and bounce off of your ears. Your body begins to frail once more, feeling yourself being restrained. Your eyes finally focus and you realize that you are not deep in the abyss anymore.

Cries are heard throughout the room and finally, you stop fighting against the hands restraining you.

“I-Is that…”

You aren’t in a room. You aren’t sure where in the world you are. The walls are stone and high. There’s candles that are lined around your cot and on the walls. Surrounding you are several men, all unfamiliar except one. Jungkook. He’s holding something in his arms, wrapped in a clothed blanket.

“Our son.” Jungkook rocks the wailing baby until he’s quiet.

“Can I…hold him?”

The six men surrounding you all watch as Jungkook places the baby into your arms. Your eyes are fixed on him. He doesn’t appear to be that of a newborn - yet, he was half demon, so you wouldn’t hold anything against him. He’s still so small in your arms and against your chest and warm to the touch. There’s a mop of dark hard atop of his head.

Your son's eyes are open - and they are the same as Jungkook’s. Crimson, shining right up at you.

Your finger touches his skin, feeling your heart feel warm at just the sight of him.

Jungkook hums, feeling himself smile. He had you now - fully. Now more than ever would have if it was not for the child he’d given you; you had called for him while in the abyss to save the both of you. Even if there was never any direct harm to you physically, mentally you were calling for him. Him to protect you and his son.

“It’s time.” one of the men said. Jungkook takes the baby back into his arms, shushing when the small infant begins to sob at your lack of contact.

“W-What’s happening?” you want to hold your baby close to you once more, inhale the soft baby scent that even a half demon like he had.

The six men surrounding you began to chant. You’re unsure what’s happening, but your heart sinks. There’s an uneasy feeling in your core.

“Jungkook…” you murmur, reaching out for him.

“It’s alright, my beautiful human.” Jungkook takes a step back with the baby, rocking him gently. “The bond has been completed. Now we can be together for eternity. In Hell.”

The room begins to shake, as if an earthquake was beginning to happen. The candles on the stone walls all fall, falling onto the ground and erupting around you.

“Jungkook!” you shout, your nails clenching the thin sheet surrounding you. What in the world is going on right now?

“The pain will not last long, my beautiful wife…” Jungkook trails off. His son begins to cry, feeling the distress coming from his mother - noted seeing as he was just as connected to you as he was to Jungkook. “...once it’s over, you can reunite with us in the Underworld. We will be waiting for you.”

The chants only get louder and the room hotter. When you managed to take your eyes away from Jungkook, you looked towards the shaking ground. It erupts, pits of flames crashing through the ground. You scream, unsure of what was going on.

Jungkook’s words ring in your mind - you would be reunited with them in the Underworld.

Your blood runs cold, feeling your arms being pulled upon from an unknown force deep within the pits.

Your eyes lock with Jungkook for a last time, crimson eyes staring right into your own. You’re unsure how to read him - he was a demon and could demons ever truly be trusted? They were cunning and selfish; only truly anything for personal gain.

‘I’ll be right down there when you arrive, Y/N. We both will.’

You’re shocked for a moment, hearing Jungkook’s voice directly into your thoughts. Now your body is being dragged down into the Earth, swallowing you fully and yet, all you could hear are Jungkook’s words in your head.

‘You have my word, my beautiful wife.’

PART 2 | Divine Intervention (Taehyung Version)

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sugajimin · 2 years ago

Photo

he is so hot(cr. @/jung-koook)

#yoongi #suga #btsgif #userbangtan #bts #btsedit #myedit #mygifs #min yoongi #dday tour #SKY THANK YOU SO DAMN MUCH #ALSO YOU DEMON YOU LURE ME INTO THE WORLD I DIDNT WANT TO COME

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chimcess · 4 months ago

Text

Nachash || jhs

Pairing: Hoseok x Reader (ft. Taehyung) Genre: Supernatural AU, Demon!Hoseok, Med Student!Reader, Smut, One night stand, Angst, Horror AU, Incubus! Hoseok, 90s AU, Yandere!AU Rating: 18+ (don’t interact if you’re a minor) Word Count: 21.4k+ Summary: After the loss of both of her parents, Y/N decided to sell their home in Florida and move back to New York City, a place that she has little memories of despite 10 years of living in Harlem. Her world begins to shift, and she starts to lose sight of dreams and reality, and at the center of it all is Hoseok, a sweet man who gives her a strange sense of deja vu, but she can’t help but wonder if he is who he says he is and why a strange bar keeps popping up in her nightmares. Warnings: Strong language, bad medical terminology (I tried), Hoseok has a demon side (like physically different), main character (somewhat) death (graphic), graphic violence, reader slowly losing her mind, heavy religious themes in a large chunk of this, explicit sexual content, vaginal fingering, dirty talk, rough sex, manhandling, hard dom Hoseok, so much blood, low-key a yandere but not really, blood play, blood drinking, begging for life, extreme emotional manipulation, growling, over stimulation, unprotected sex (wrap it up), DARK ENDING, dubious consent (mind control/mood control/literally cannot leave Hoseok's presence), reader is severely mentally ill by the end of this, demonic possession, Stockholm syndrome, this is not a cute demon romance, read at your own risk, stopping here since there’s a lot just let me know if I missed anything A/N: After posting a teaser for this fic two years ago, I finally got around to finishing it! I’m still working on my smut skills, so I apologize in advance, but I hope you can get down with my favorite (and extremely evil) demon man. Happy Halloween (or, to my fellow Pagans, Happy Samhain)!

Prologue || Listen to the Playlist || Cross posted on AO3: here

Nachash (noun) "snake; serpent". Derived from the Hebrew root n-ch-sh.

July 1997

"How are you feeling?"

I sighed, pulling open another box. Unpacking was always the worst part of moving, like some cosmic joke designed to break you down piece by piece. Plates stared back at me from the box, and I clenched my jaw. The one on top was chipped—another thing on my growing list of replacements. I pulled it out and set it aside, determined to deal with it later. The rest of the plates went away in the cabinet. The broken one would be tossed.

"I don't know," I confessed. "Mom died. I'm everywhere."

My brother's hum of acknowledgment was all I heard. Miles had always been a quiet, distant sort, barely speaking to our parents. Their deaths hit him hard, but more so with Dad than Mom. Dad had been the stable one, while Mom was a relentless storm—never satisfied, constantly pushing, always demanding. To her, a doctor and a lawyer weren't enough. Miles had always seen her as aggressive, unyielding, and ever discontented. And Dad? Well, his complacency had its own way of grating.

Miles had moved to Oregon right after graduating from FSU, never looking back. We'd made the trek to see him a few times, but he'd never returned the favor. My stint in New York had mended our relationship somewhat. He visited frequently and spent his summers with me, and after Dad passed, he made a point to see Mom at least once a year. I didn't mind the trips to Portland; my Jacksonville home had become his family's vacation spot.

"So am I," he said, his voice betraying a hint of fatigue.

They'd been at each other's throats, arguing constantly, with his wife loathing Mom. Yet, I knew Miles held some affection for her despite their tumultuous relationship. He'd never truly made her proud, and that haunted him. I understood, but when I moved back home, the dynamics shifted. Mom used me as a weapon against Miles, making me the favored child, the one who came back. Miles was the ungrateful one who'd married the wrong woman.

Mom always blamed Trinity for Miles' "bad attitude." Dad knew better. I knew better.

"So," Miles shifted gears, "when can we come and visit?"

I smiled, "I'll be out there for Thanksgiving and Christmas. So maybe next summer?"

"That's a long wait."

I chuckled, "Well, Rory starts school this year and Trinity's pregnant. You're just as busy as I am."

I'd been the one with the most on my plate for years. Mom, a real estate agent, rarely left home, while Dad ran a plumbing company. When Miles went to college, I was knee-deep in medical school applications. During my residency, Miles was grinding through law school. When I moved back to Florida, I was buried in ICU shifts while he graduated and started his own practice. He met Trinity, and the two became inseparable. Mom despised her, but I saw how they brought out the best in each other. My career-driven life had left me disconnected, and while Mom reveled in it, I resented it.

Kids changed everything for them. Aurora was their miracle baby. Trinity had struggled with fertility for years, and when they finally had a child, it was as if their world had transformed. My brother was spent, and Mom's resentment boiled over. She was always bitter that they hadn't uprooted their lives back to Florida for the grandchild. By then, Miles didn't care. He'd made the trips for Dad but after Mom's cruel comments about Trinity's weight and their daughter being "too pretty" to be her granddaughter, Aurora never set foot in the family home again.

"Aurora is driving me crazy," Miles groaned. "She won't stop talking about the baby."

"As a big sister, I can tell you she's just being a normal kid."

"I know that," I could almost hear his eye roll. "I'm just worried. It's still early, and I don't want her hopes to get too high. Trinity's scared of another miscarriage."

It would be her sixth.

"Try to stay positive, bub," I bit my lip, surveying the cluttered room. I'd never finish today. "If it happens, it happens. But don't go into it expecting the worst."

"Between Mom and this…" He trailed off.

I understood his fear. Trinity was a few years older than me, and her anxiety was palpable. At 38, any pregnancy brought its own set of worries. Last I heard, Trinity was considering getting her tubes tied if this one didn't make it. The heartache was becoming unbearable.

"Hey," I kept my tone gentle, knowing that riling him up wouldn't help. "Keep your head up. Her next appointment is soon. Ensure she's sticking to bedrest, and you'll be fine."

"What if it happens again?"

My heart broke for him. Miles had always been the rock, the one who seemed unshakeable. Seeing him this vulnerable starkly contrasted with the angry kid he'd been in high school. Mom had pushed his buttons mercilessly, and I had vague memories of our squabbles, but they paled compared to the constant battles he faced with her.

I wondered if he ever grasped how I felt. He always thought Mom liked me more, but it was more about her being able to overlook me. While he fought for her attention, nothing I did ever really mattered. It was like a fog followed me, obscuring me from their view. Sometimes, it would lift, and Mom would acknowledge me, but then it would return, and I was forgotten.

"You'll get through it," I assured him.

We chatted a bit more. Aurora was excited about kindergarten and had picked out new uniforms. She was obsessed with Daniel Tiger's Neighborhood, and her new backpack reflected that. She'd even given her Prince Wednesday stuffed animal to the baby. It was everyday family life, but the emptiness in my chest grew. I longed for laughter and the innocent joy of children in my home.

"Trinity's calling me," Miles said, his voice muffled by distance.

"I'll talk to you later. Love you."

"Love you too, sissy."

I smiled faintly, "Later."

He hung up before I could say anything else. I glanced around the room, eyes narrowing at the boxes that seemed to taunt me with their mere existence. All of them were my own—mainly books, a few other odds and ends. The sadness that gripped me was relentless. I'd always had the most demanding job, the tightest schedule, and the deepest insecurities. Miles was angry, and I was desperate to be seen, so much so that I followed every command without question. Now, here I was, alone, surrounded by regret.

Dating felt like a cruel joke. My time in New York had alienated me more than anything else. That fog of invisibility from my childhood had returned with a vengeance. Coworkers would barely look at me for over a second; people on the street seemed oblivious to my presence and dates. They always ended badly. They weren't evil men but would forget my name within seconds. It felt like I wasn't real, like I existed on some other plane.

The only person who seemed to remember I existed anymore was my brother and his family. Dad's Alzheimer's had robbed him of any memory of us before he passed. Mom, too incoherent at Hospice, never stayed awake long enough to acknowledge my presence. Sometimes, it felt like Miles would momentarily forget me, only for my name to pop into his mind at predictable intervals—like clockwork, only calling on specific days and times, usually if he was planning a trip. It upset me more than I could recall, but now I wondered why.

"This place won't unpack itself," I muttered aloud.

I'd talked to myself so much it felt almost normal. I knew I needed to make friends, that without connections, I'd end up as lonely as my father, but the idea seemed futile. No one saw me clearly. No one ever had. When I searched my memories for anyone who had seen me, I came up empty. No one had ever really seen me. No one ever would. Instinctively, I knew this despite the facade of normalcy I tried to maintain. I had a job, a family, a house. I wasn't haunted. Or… maybe I was just being childish. I was simply forgettable, unremarkable. This I knew.

"I exist," I whispered, the words reverberating loudly in the stillness of my apartment.

The silence that pervaded my life mocked me with its omnipresence.

"How the hell do you get lost in a bar?"

"It's a lounge, sha," came a voice behind me.

What a peculiar dream. I took a bite of my sandwich, returning to the rude awakening that morning. I rarely remembered my dreams, if I had them at all. But last night had been different. I'd found myself in a dimly lit room with a man I couldn't recall clearly, dressed in white and speaking with an accent I couldn't place. I woke up before anything significant happened. The dream had been woefully uneventful.

The floor was almost eerily quiet tonight. Aside from the constant beeps and monitors scattered around and George Gilmore in room 11 watching football, no one spoke. The nurses here seemed less lively than I was accustomed to, their faces vacant, their words few. I kept to my small office most of the night, avoiding their station.

We'd had one death so far—a patient with a DNR who suffered a stroke shortly after midnight. Another woman had been pronounced brain-dead an hour ago. We'd wait until tomorrow to pull the plug, so her daughter could say goodbye. I didn't count her in my tally. The night crew had a way of seeing me even less than the others, and I didn't like them much.

"Hello, Doctor."

I jumped, startled. At least he had the decency to look sheepish. My irritation took me by surprise. I wasn't typically agitated; my feelings were either muted or overwhelming. He pushed his hair back, revealing messy chocolate brown locks, and held a clipboard stained with dubious marks.

"Sorry," he mumbled, shifting awkwardly under my gaze. I was already weary of his presence. "I was told you were new and thought I should introduce myself before leaving for the night. I'm Damon Glass, one of the anesthesiologists."

"Y/N Y/L/N," I replied, my voice flat and uninviting. "Nice to meet you."

"Likewise," he smiled, showing a gap between his front teeth that reminded me of my father's. It was a rare sight among people my age. "If you need anything, don't hesitate to come to me. Dr. Whitlock is on the floor, and I believe Morgan Fletcher is on call."

I nodded, appreciating the information but ready for him to leave. My distaste had faded, but I preferred brevity in conversations, especially with outsiders. I disliked the feeling of interacting with them. It was why I preferred dealing with the nearly dead; they rarely spoke, and when they did, I knew they'd be too medicated to remember much. The families were more accessible to handle than the ones back in Florida.

It was odd how my thoughts could veer into such morbid territories. Almost as morbid as my enjoyment of overseeing dying patients. It was not as macabre as my unbidden glee at my mother's death alongside my brother, but it ranked high on my list of flaws.

"Have a good night," I said, returning to my computer to refresh my emails.

Dr. Glass seemed to take the hint, leaving with an awkward smile and wave.

August 1997

I stood outside the door, the muffled sounds of grief seeping through the walls like a relentless, jagged current. The family's sorrow was palpable, a heavy fog that followed me down the hallway. I hoped to catch them in a better moment, but the cruel truth of this place was that better moments were rare. With a resigned breath, I raised my hand and knocked. The room fell silent, and a strained voice called out, allowing me to enter.

Elizabeth Fraiser had lived a life filled with grace and elegance. Once a dancer whose feet had carried her across Europe's stages, she met her husband in Paris and married him there. They had settled in New York, where her days of ballet had given way to a quieter role as a ballet instructor in Jersey. She had raised a family, and her pride in her children was as evident as her passion for dance. She spoke of them with a joy that contrasted sharply with the emptiness of my own mother's words.

Now, Elizabeth was in the late stages of lung cancer. Her family had clung to the hope of letting her pass away at home, but the relentless pneumonia and ceaseless pain had pushed them to make the difficult decision to admit her here. Her condition had worsened sharply today, and her family was struggling to cope with the harsh reality.

"Good afternoon," I said softly, a gentle murmur in the oppressive silence.

"Nice to see you," Elizabeth's oldest son, Elijah, managed a weak smile. We both knew he wasn't fond of doctors, but he tolerated me because I didn't overstay my welcome. "Mom's been sleeping for a while."

I stifled a sigh. Her body was crumbling, and delivering bad news was never easy. The small comfort was knowing she would soon feel nothing at all. We planned to increase her morphine dosage and withdraw all other medications. Her family would need to agree, but I wasn't too concerned. Mary, her daughter, had debated extending her mother's life with her brothers.

"We're really at the end, aren't we?" Mary's voice was strained, her husband's arm around her for support. Among them, she was the calmest, but the edges of her composure were frayed. Her eyes were red, testimony to her unrelenting tears. "Will she be in pain?"

I explained our focus on alleviating her suffering. She would be less coherent in the coming days but occasionally rouse enough to interact with them between doses. We aimed to ensure she had the utmost comfort and relief in her final days. The youngest Percy took the news hardest and had to excuse himself. I held Mary's hand, appreciating the warmth of human connection. I prided myself on my bedside manner.

"I know home care wasn't ideal for you," I broached delicately, aware of their crowded lives and young children. "But I'm offering it as an option. Respite care is also available, though I understand it was stressful before. It's worth discussing."

Elijah shook his head firmly. Mary hesitated, but her husband's reminder to care for herself and their baby swayed her. Percy's wife raised concerns about her own health, cementing the decision. Elizabeth would remain with us in her final days. It was probably for the best—she was too frail and in too much agony without constant medication.

"Let me know if you need anything," I said, glancing at the family. The nurses are always available, and I'm on call until six. Is there anything I can get you before I leave?"

"Mom needs a bath," Percy reentered the room. A nurse had come by earlier, asking if we were ready to step out. Let them know they could come in."

The rest of my shift dragged on. Other families were terse and uncommunicative, and their responses were minimal. I understood their grief, but it did little to ease my weary spirit. The nurses seemed as disinterested in me as ever. I had long since given up trying to connect with them.

The air outside was crisp, almost biting. I walked to the subway, the city traffic too maddening to endure. I'd trade bumper-to-bumper frustration for the quirks of the subway any day. Last week, a man in a bunny costume rapped at six in the morning. The week before, a man argued with his reflection in the window. Last night, an elderly woman beside me commented on my disheveled appearance, lamenting that men didn't like that and worrying I'd die alone. I barely remember if I responded. I hated talking on the subway; her parting insult had stung me.

Tonight promised to be different. I left the hospital later than usual, after two code blues and an injury report for a nurse. Overdue paperwork and an insurance squabble later, it was past eight when I left. My walk was short, and the wait at the terminal was OK, but the train didn't arrive until 9:30. When I finally boarded, the car was almost empty.

Then a group of men entered. They were rowdy, pushing each other, their drunkenness a stifling cloud. I almost moved when they sat too close, but I didn't want to draw attention. I could feel their eyes on me. I clutched my bag tightly, fingers brushing the can of pepper spray hooked to its strap. I was almost home. Just three more stops.

"Hey," one of the men called out. I ignored him. "Hey, you."

I hated the subway.

"Leave her alone."

That voice caught my attention. I knew it—or thought I did. When I looked up, I was met with a stranger, yet his presence felt oddly familiar. He was striking, with tanned skin and sharp features that made his brown eyes stand out under the harsh fluorescent lights. He took the seat beside mine, and I didn't stop him. The men were back to their raucous laughter, and I was forgotten. I relaxed slightly, hoping to remain unnoticed.

"Sorry about them," he said, his warm and soothing voice a gentle tenor that evoked a sense of nostalgia. "Are you OK?"

I nodded, unable to meet his gaze. Something about him tugged at the edges of my memory, yet he wasn't a celebrity, and I was sure I'd never met him before. Perhaps we'd crossed paths on the subway? My brain was playing tricks on me.

"Yes," I said softly. "Thank you."

Despite myself, I stole glances at him. I had to remind myself to breathe when I ventured past his neck. He was slender, but there was a subtle strength beneath his clothes. If he noticed my scrutiny, he said nothing. He returned to his book, but I was convinced that his eyes were still on me when I finally looked away.

I jolted awake, my body wracked with shivers despite the suffocating warmth of the blanket. The room was deathly silent, save for the moonlight streaming through the window like a spotlight on a stage set for a performance I never auditioned for. I rolled over, trying to bury myself deeper into the cocoon of my blanket, but then I heard it—a voice, soft and faint, yet carrying an unsettling authority.

“Oh, Y/N,” the voice crooned, dripping with a sinister allure. “It’s time. Come to me.”

Confusion and dread clawed at my insides as I stumbled out of bed. The room was a far cry from my own—stone walls, thick and oppressive, casting shadows that seemed to dance with malevolent glee. The floor beneath my feet was icy, a stark contrast to the comfort of my bed. My nightgown, white and delicate, felt like a mockery in this alien environment.

This wasn’t my room.

The voice came again, seductive and commanding. “Y/N, come out, come out, now. I’m waiting for you.”

Compelled, I moved to the window. Below, in the moonlit expanse of the lawn, stood the man from the subway. His face was eerily illuminated, his head tilted back as if inviting me to join him in the darkness below. His eyes—glowing a brilliant gold—seemed to reach out to me, promising unspeakable things if only I would take the leap.

I couldn’t tear my gaze away. He raised a hand, crooking a finger in a silent invitation. It was as if an invisible thread was pulling me toward him. Entranced, my feet moved on their own accord. Barefoot, the cold stone beneath me was a cruel contrast to the warmth I’d just left behind. I wandered through hallways and passages that felt simultaneously foreign and intimately known, descending into the shadows where he waited.

As I emerged onto the lawn, his smile made me shiver. He approached, his fingers brushing the side of my face—teasing, tantalizing, yet never quite touching.

“I’ve waited for you for so long,” he murmured, his voice a velvet caress. “So very long. And now, now you’re mine.”

A fragment of my mind screamed in protest, shouting that I didn’t belong to him, that I didn’t even know who he was or why I was here. But a deeper, more primal force tugged at me, pulling me closer until I was nearly touching him. His presence was unsettlingly soothing, and I took a breath, feeling the heat of his gaze.

“That’s right, my lamb, come closer,” he coaxed.

An overwhelming longing surged through me—irrational, illogical, yet so profound that I couldn’t resist. I needed him to touch me, to make the connection complete. I tilted my head to the side, exposing my neck to the moonlight.

He responded immediately, his fingers trailing along my throat, their cool touch sending shivers through me. I gasped, my body lighting up with each delicate brush.

“More,” I heard myself plead, pressing closer.

“Say it,” he demanded, his arms enveloping me in a possessive embrace. “Who do you belong to?”

“You. I’m yours.”

He cradled my head in his hand, leaning in. His lips were smooth against my skin, but his teeth were sharp as they pierced through flesh. I screamed as he drank deeply.

I awoke with a start, sitting up in bed, my hands clutching at my throat, searching for any sign of injury. The skin was intact, unbroken. I took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to calm my racing heart that felt as though it might burst from my chest.

The lamp flickered on with a click, casting a harsh, unwelcome light that made me squint and shield my eyes. Grabbing my robe and a cup, I shuffled out of the room, the chill of the hallway hitting me like a slap. I closed the door quietly behind me, trying not to disturb the oppressive silence that hung heavy in the air. The bathroom, bathed in the sickly fluorescent glow, was as deserted as I’d hoped.

I filled my cup halfway with water from one of the sinks, then leaned against the cold, sterile tiles, watching my reflection in the mirror as I took slow, deliberate sips. The dream—the one that had shaken me awake—felt so unnervingly real.

I traced the line of my neck with trembling fingers, the blue vein just beneath the surface. What kind of twisted message was my mind trying to send me with that nightmare? It had been a full-on gothic horror—a relic of some crumbling English manor, not the kind of place I ever imagined myself visiting, unless I was buried in a pile of classic literature.

And him. The monster. Even now, as I closed my eyes, I could still see his face—a blend of dark allure and cruel beauty. His eyes, oh, those eyes. They’d held me in thrall, made me willing to surrender to any demand he made. I could almost feel his cold touch, see his smile that promised both ecstasy and agony.

Wasn’t the whole vampire-mother-stuff supposed to be a metaphor for sex? Maybe that’s what my subconscious was trying to shove in my face—sex, or the glaring void where it should have been in my life.

I studied my flushed reflection, feeling the heat in my cheeks. I shook my head, trying to shake off the nightmare’s grip.

The man sat next to me again. It had been a week since I last saw him, and my body still reacted to his presence. Today, I admired his chiseled jawline and elongated face. He was an exquisite oval with a strong profile. This time, he caught me looking and smiled shyly.

"I'm Hoseok."

The name sent a shiver, stirring something familiar and unsettling. I quickly brushed off the uneasy feeling. It was probably my own insecurity.

"Y/N," I replied, unable to tear my gaze away from him.

He resumed reading, and I focused on crocheting a stuffed rabbit for my nephew. Miles had called that morning to update me on Trinity's appointment. The toy wasn't perfect—far from it—but I wanted to give it a try.

"How would you feel about dinner?" Hoseok's voice broke through my thoughts.

I paused my knitting. "I enjoy dinner. Who doesn't?"

He chuckled, a rich, velvety sound that made me blush. "Cheeky."

I bit my lip, unsure if it was a compliment. I felt a pang of embarrassment, struggling to maintain my composure. The first date I'd been asked on since undergrad, and I was fumbling. Miles would have a field day.

"Would you like dinner with me?"

I hesitated. "Yes."

Hoseok's laughter resonated deeply within me, and I felt a jolt of warmth as he slid closer, his knee brushing against mine. He was impossibly warm. Instinctively, I shifted away, uncomfortable with his proximity. There was something off about him, an unsettling vibe that I couldn't quite place.

But then he smiled, and that soft, disarming grin evaporated all my doubts. He was dazzling. My eyes fluttered shut as his cologne enveloped me, weakening my knees. I had to remind myself to breathe. He was captivating.

"Do you like Italian?" he asked, his voice deeper now.

I nodded, struggling to steady my breath. Panic and embarrassment churned within me, but I couldn't ignore the physical response. My mind was flooded with inappropriate thoughts of Hoseok, vivid and intrusive. I gasped, feeling a flush of heat I hadn't experienced in a long time.

"Does two weeks work?"

Snapping out of my daze, I looked at Hoseok and nodded.

"I'm off on the 27th."

He smiled, and I stared at his teeth longer than necessary. They seemed different—sharper, perhaps, with redder gums. I blinked, reassured that they were just as I remembered. My sleep deprivation must be getting to me.

"Meet you here?"

We agreed to meet at six. I'd catch the 5:30 train to ensure I arrived before him. As the subway pulled into my stop, I waved goodbye and stepped out, only to realize I hadn't asked him where we were going. The thought lingered until the following day.

The voice is louder now, sharper, as if it’s cutting through the fog of my half-sleep. “Y/N? I’m waiting for you. Come to me now.”

I hear it, feel the tug of it dragging me towards him, but fear clamps down on me like a vice. My bare feet are numb on the cold, wet grass as I stumble through the twisting maze of hedges, trying to escape the invisible force that pulls me like iron to a magnet.

My breath hitches, coming fast and uneven, as I sprint around corners, the long white gown tangling around my legs and tripping me up. I’m not sure anymore if I’m searching for a way out or if I’m trying to find him.

I turn another corner, my ankle twists and pain shoots through my leg as I crash into an open space—a small, white fountain sits in the middle, surrounded by benches.

Through the flickering light of the moon dancing on the water, I see him. Not a figment of my imagination, but there he is, standing as he promised, waiting.

Hoseok walks towards me with a slow, deliberate grace. He bends, lifting me effortlessly from the mess of my tangled gown and into his arms. I feel a peculiar sense of completeness as he sits on a bench, cradling me like a precious artifact.

“Were you bringing me your gift? Or were you trying to run from me?” His voice is soft, almost tender, and yet it cuts through me. I open my mouth to speak, but no sound comes. I’m lost, adrift in confusion.

I’m mesmerized by his flawless beauty. My fingers move of their own accord, reaching towards his face. That smile returns, and I see the satisfaction in his eyes.

“You may touch me.” His lips part slightly, and I press my fingers against them. His tongue flicks out, wrapping around my fingertip and drawing it into his mouth. Before I can react, I feel a sharp bite.

I gasp as he licks the blood that wells up from the small wound. “A small treat,” he murmurs. “That’s why you came, isn’t it?”

I find myself nodding, helpless under his gaze.

He licks my finger one last time, savoring the taste before swallowing. “They told me you’d be extraordinary, worth every moment of waiting. Yet, your taste is beyond anything I ever dreamed.”

My body reacts to his words and his touch—still innocent but making my skin feel like it’s stretched too tight, like I might explode. I let my head fall back, exposing my neck to him as his tongue traces a path up the sensitive skin.

And then he bites.

I bolt awake, heart pounding as if it might burst from my chest. I fumble in the dark, reaching for the light switch, feeling profoundly alone with Rose away for the weekend.

I throw off the covers and stagger to the mirror, desperately checking my neck. There’s nothing there, no sign of the bite.

A cold shiver runs down my spine. I grab a blanket and a book, and huddle in the hall lounge, surrounded by the harsh light of every lamp and the incessant flicker of the television, trying to drive away the lingering shadows of the nightmare.

September 1997

I eased into my seat, the familiar weight of my bag pressed to my left side and draped an arm over it as if to claim it for my own. It was the first night off from the relentless grind of being on-call since mid-August and the first real night out in years. I’d never been much for the party scene, and medical school had only sharpened that aversion. The last time I went out for drinks was nearly six years ago, a fleeting memory of bar hopping that I’d abandoned early, too exhausted to keep pace with my friends.

Tonight, however, felt different. There was a nagging sense that I was misremembering that long-ago night, like a foggy half-remembered dream where something vital was missing. My life in New York had become a blur of medical texts and sleepless shifts, the grueling 24-hour days erasing the finer details of my existence. My final year had been a carousel of discomfort, but the specifics eluded me, lost in exhaustion. Perhaps a creep of some sort, some misguided doctor with a name I couldn’t quite grasp—maybe that’s what had soured my memory.

I pulled out my phone and scrolled to find Hoseok’s contact. The old SeaTAC was still a relic of the past, but I clung to it out of stubborn habit. Despite its age, it was a lifeline to the outside world, a way to escape the pager’s relentless beeping. I longed for the day when I could toss the landline, but the cost of cell phone minutes constantly reminded me of its importance. With his endless chatter, Miles made sure I burned through those minutes with alarming frequency.

“Hello?” Hoseok’s voice was silky, a comforting balm after a long stretch of clinical detachment.

“Hey,” I breathed, trying to keep my voice steady. “Just got on.”

“See you soon,” he said, his tone warm and reassuring. I could almost picture the smile on his face, and it made me smile in return. His words seemed more benign over the phone, starkly contrasting the intensity of our recent encounters. “Save my spot.”

The car was beginning to fill up, Friday night revelers claiming their space, making it nearly impossible to save a seat. I promised I’d try, even as I felt the crushing inevitability of the crowd. His chuckle was soft, almost intimate.

“Thank you, sweet girl.”

I bit my lip, the endearment both flattering and unsettling. A tiny voice in my head cautioned me, even though Hoseok had never used his terms of affection demeaningly. The voice grew louder when he wasn’t around, whispering warnings I couldn’t entirely dismiss. It was strange, this constant inner debate.

“I’m going to hang up,” Hoseok said, his voice a sensual murmur. I moved the phone away from my ear, puzzled by the seductive undertone. Was he implying something more?

Was I expecting more from tonight?

“I’m running up my minutes,” he laughed, breaking the spell of my thoughts.

“Oh,” I blinked, snapping out of my reverie. “Sorry. See you in a bit.”

The recurring dreams of him were becoming a distraction. My nights were plagued with vivid, unsettling fantasies, leaving me restless and frazzled. I wiggled in my seat, pressing my thighs together to quell the unsettling arousal. Reality would surely disappoint, no matter how compelling he seemed in my dreams. I resolved to hold off on sex for now. I didn’t want to tarnish his allure with premature intimacy.

“Why did you want to be a doctor?” Hoseok asked, his fingers entwining with mine.

The wine started hitting, and the night air was crisp against my skin. Hoseok was the perfect gentleman; the evening was a beautiful respite from my routine. I leaned into him, feeling the warmth of his body, and sighed.

“I wish I could say it was for noble reasons,” I said, my voice tinged with melancholy. “In truth, I just wanted my family to notice me. I thought graduating medical school would make them see me, but it never quite worked out that way.”

Hoseok hummed thoughtfully beside me. I turned my gaze away, feeling a strange mix of comfort and sadness.

“None of us are perfect,” he said after a pause, his voice low and contemplative. “I’ve made my share of mistakes, and my choices haven’t always been noble.”

I leaned closer, savoring his warmth and intoxicating scent. Despite my fatigue, the night felt lighter, almost magical. He was mesmerizing, and I was drawn to him in a way I hadn’t expected.

“I have a hard time believing that,” I said with a soft grin, snuggling closer.

“Well,” he said, his arm wrapping around my waist, pulling me into his side. “You haven’t had me all to yourself yet.”

A shiver ran down my spine, a curious blend of fear and delight. The night had been a rollercoaster of emotions—enchantment and apprehension intertwined. Hoseok’s smile was disarming, melting away my unease, but I made a mental note to reflect on my feelings once I was alone. He seemed almost too perfect, and that nagging pit in my stomach grew again before vanishing.

“I don’t want the night to end,” Hoseok whispered, his breath warm against my ear as we waited for the train. “I’m having such a good time.”

I smiled, “What kind of girl do you take me for?”

“When can I see you again?” he asked, his voice filled with genuine longing.

“Soon,” I promised. “I’m getting the next few weekends off now that the other fellowship student is starting. My supervisor is trying to get me off every Saturday.”

“It’s a good thing my boss is flexible,” Hoseok purred, causing my heart to race. “Otherwise, I’d never get to spend time with you.”

I wanted to be annoyed by his clinginess, to remind him I wasn’t his girlfriend, but instead, I found myself grinning. His words made me feel seen and appreciated. Despite the anxiety he sometimes stirred in me, I was eager to be close to him. He looked at me so intently that I was willing to overlook my reservations. Maybe it was just butterflies?

“Where do you work?” I asked, trying to divert my thoughts.

Hoseok was a bartender at a speakeasy in Manhattan, where he’d worked since it opened. He had hinted at it throughout the evening, teasing me with its obscurity.

“It’s a smaller place,” he said amusedly. “You’ve probably never heard of it.”

“Try me,” I challenged, my heart pounding strangely.

“Dauphine.”

The name hit me like a jolt. Images of dimly lit corridors and crimson hues flashed in my mind. I was sure I’d never been there, but the name stirred a disquieting sense of déjà vu. The dream from July, the man from my dreams—there was a connection, but it eluded me.

As we stood in the bustling, well-lit area, I edged away slightly, unsettled. Hoseok was a charming gentleman, but the name “Dauphine” had ignited an inexplicable dread. Despite his humor and warmth, I couldn’t shake the feeling that he was hiding something—or maybe I was just afraid of what I might find.

I stole a furtive glance at him, and it felt as though I’d known him far longer than the scant time we’d spent together. His face was oddly familiar, like a recurring image in a dream half-remembered. I had met him before, somewhere.

“No, you haven’t,” his voice cut through the night like ice. It was cold, detached, far from the warmth he’d shown me all evening. A shiver snaked down my spine, and I forgot to breathe. His grip on me tightened as though sensing my legs would buckle beneath me. “You’ve never known me before.”

The fierce scowl on his face startled me. His eyes, glowing with an eerie golden light, seemed to burn through me. Everything about him felt otherworldly like he was something less than human. A fragmented memory of a man sitting alone at a bar surged up, only to dissolve into nothingness.

“I am Hoseok,” he whispered, his voice weaving a heavy spell over my senses. “I am your boyfriend. We’ve been together a long time, and we’re in love. You just tripped and hit your head.”

A sudden jolt of pain made me wince and try to pull away from him.

“Does it hurt?” His voice was deceptively tender, and I sighed through the pain.

“Yes,” I groaned, rubbing my forehead. “Does it look bad?”

Hoseok’s grin was unsettling, a blend of fake sympathy and amusement.

“You were lucky this time. Just a barely noticeable red mark.”

I chuckled at my own clumsiness. I wasn’t usually this awkward, but my heel caught on a pavement crack. I gingerly rubbed my ankle and was relieved to find it unscathed. Even my heel had survived.

“Jeez,” I said, looping my arm through his. “I completely forgot what we were talking about.”

Hoseok’s smile broadened, clearly enjoying my disoriented state. I rolled my eyes and reached over to gently tap his chest. He responded by sticking out his tongue, which only made me scoff at his childishness.

“We were talking about work,” I said.

I nodded as if on autopilot. “How’s the bar?”

Hoseok worked at a swanky speakeasy in Manhattan, though I was trying to remember its name. Despite being together for what felt like ages, I had never been there. I was never one for bars, while Hoseok reveled in the place’s gothic charm. The name eluded me again as I tried to recall it.

“Tae’s excited,” he chuckled. “With Halloween around the corner, business will pick up.”

I hummed, my thoughts still lingering on the name. I had thought his boss was Tristan, but I must have misremembered. I shrugged off the nagging thought.

“You should stop by the bar,” I heard myself say, sounding oddly mechanical.

“Sounds fun,” he replied, his tone laced with a predatory edge.

Looking back on that night, it’s almost laughable how easily he swayed me. The way he possessed me was undeniable; soon, he would own every inch of me. Those dreams of him were his twisted way of showing love—how much he craved to touch me, to keep me bound to him. It’s sick and vile, and the thought of what we’d become makes me nauseous, yet to him, it’s love.

“Let’s get you home,” he said, his arm wrapping possessively around my shoulders.

I remember leaning into his side, kissing his cheek as if I was floating. His presence was intoxicating. Even now, I can feel the ghost of his touch and his body's heat. It’s a twisted sort of longing I have for him. This place is cold and dark without him, without his reminders of how much he cares and wants me to scream for him. Here, time stands still, and life continues in a strange loop. I can’t say whether I’m alive or dead, but I know it no longer matters. Once I entered this world, my life ended and began anew. Hoseok made me feel both alive and dead simultaneously.

And as I write this, my heart aches for him. My fingers tremble at the thought of him returning to claim me again. The pain he inflicts makes my heart pound and my stomach clench. I miss him.

It both sickens and excites me.

October 19, 1997

My bones groaned and cracked like ancient floorboards beneath my weight as I fought to catch my breath. Sweat slicked my skin, and I began patting myself down, half-expecting to find something tangible to anchor me to reality. My surroundings slowly came into focus. The harsh fluorescent lights above stung my eyes, but their sterile brightness offered an odd comfort. I was at home, cocooned in thick blankets that had twisted themselves around my legs. The bed beneath me creaked with the effort of supporting my restless form. I sighed, flopping back down, trying to shake off the remnants of the nightmare that still clung to me like a shadow.

The dreams had become relentless, evolving from vague echoes of past terrors into something far more insidious. These weren't fueled by mere fear but by an overwhelming, consuming desire that felt dangerously close to swallowing me whole. The weekends were the worst, and after seeing Hoseok, they had turned almost infernal. He was always there in my dreams, his skin smooth and flawless, his deep brown eyes burning into mine with an intensity that left me gasping for air.

Every time I closed my eyes, his image flickered behind my eyelids like a dark, seductive film. The scenes always ended the same way: I would climax, my body convulsing in a fevered rhythm, while I looked up to see his face contorted in ecstasy. His deep, guttural groans would reverberate through me as his grip tightened on my skin. He would finish inside me, and my spent body would collapse beneath him. He would drape himself over me, showering my chest with tender, lingering kisses. The setting varied—my bed, a chilling, unfamiliar void, or a dimly lit lounge—but the conclusion was always the same.

With a sigh, I fumbled for my phone, my fingers brushing the cool surface. An email from Hoseok awaited me, and a smile crept across my face despite the haze of exhaustion. He was the epitome of a perfect gentleman—never pushing beyond my boundaries, never demanding more than I was willing to give, always accommodating his schedule to mine. Even in matters of intimacy, something many men would aggressively pursue, he always respected my pace. In the hectic blur of the past month, we hadn’t had a moment alone. He hadn’t even broached the topic. As I thought about it, I couldn't recall the last time we'd been intimate outside of these dreams.

From: Hoseok Jung Subject: All Hallows Eve Date: October 19, 1997: 03:05 To: Y/N Y/L/N Good morning, love, I'm sorry for the early message, especially since this is one of your rare mornings off. I hope I didn't wake you. I'm heading home from work and couldn't stop thinking about you. Taehyung is throwing a simple Halloween party this year, and luckily, it falls on a Friday. Would you like to join me? I think it could be a lot of fun. I love you. Hobi

I grinned and began typing my reply.

From: Y/N Y/L/N Subject: RE: All Hallows Eve Date: October 19, 1997: 04:15 To: Hoseok Jung Hobi, Don't worry, you didn't wake me. I was tangled up in strange dreams and was deep asleep when your email arrived. Sadly, I doubt I'll fall back asleep anytime soon, so I plan on catching up on Buffy or Beyond Belief—whichever's on. Hopefully, I won't get stuck with reruns of Seinfeld, not really my thing. Lucky for me, I'm working mornings this week. I'd love to come to your party. Call me when you wake up. Love you, too. Y/N Y/L/N, M.D. Palliative Care Physician, New York-Presbyterian Hospital

It barely registered that, to my knowledge, I had never said "I love you" to him before. I had never really pondered the oddity of our relationship. My memories of our time together were a disorienting blur, but I never questioned it. It wasn't entirely my fault—he had ensnared me, body and soul, and any unresolved threads might make it harder for him to maintain control. Regardless of our tangled history or how elusive it seemed; I was simply glad he wanted to see me at that moment.

I lay huddled in my bed, my body a coiled spring of anticipation, each nerve ending tingling with the foreboding that had stalked me all day. His voice had been a persistent whisper, a sultry hum that turned my name into a haunting lullaby. It was a melody wrapped in an insatiable longing, a caress of words that promised more than I dared to imagine.

Tonight, I wanted to resist. I tried to muster the strength to ignore the insidious pull, that relentless tug drawing me toward him like a moth to a flame. The very idea of defying him churned my stomach with a nauseous dread. But the threads of his influence were woven so tightly around me, it felt like trying to escape from silken chains.

Then it came, cutting through the murkiness of my thoughts like a scythe. His voice, now sharper, more insistent, shattered the fragile veneer of my resistance.

“Y/N. Come to me now.”

With a sudden jolt, the pretense of defiance evaporated. I threw off the blankets as if they were chains, leaping out of bed and flying through the darkened hallway. My feet barely touched the ground as I hurtled down the stairs, each step propelled by an unrelenting force, dragging me inexorably toward him.

He waited for me in the foyer, bathed in an eerie glow that made him look like an apparition from a fevered dream—or perhaps a nightmare. His smile was both welcoming and chilling, a promise wrapped in malice. When he took my hand, his lips brushed against my fingers with a cool, electric touch that set my entire body aflame.

The intensity of my reaction embarrassed me, but he tilted my face up to meet his gaze, shaking his head with a look of almost pity.

“Your blood knows what it wants, my lamb. You must let your mind follow.”

My face burned with fierce heat, but the compulsion pulling me to him was too overpowering to resist. He guided me through the meticulously manicured gardens to a secluded alcove framed by dense, sculpted hedges. He seated himself on a bench, drawing me onto his lap with a practiced grace that made me feel both cherished and helpless. His eyes, dark and unfathomable, never left mine, promising secrets I couldn’t begin to comprehend.

“Are you ready, my lamb?”

Without a second thought, I bared my neck to him. The desperate craving for the bliss and torment of his bite had consumed me completely; waiting was no longer an option.

He lingered, his tongue tracing a tantalizing path along the delicate skin of my throat. The sensation was almost unbearable, and I found myself begging with a voice that sounded alien, strained.

“Please.”

And then he bit.

I shot awake, my heart a frantic drum in my chest. I had fallen asleep hunched over my desk at the hospital, my neck stiff from the awkward angle. Rubbing away the ache, I cursed the book that had plagued me with such vivid nightmares. I needed to talk to my brother again; this couldn’t be anything but a cruel trick of the mind.

The glowing digits on my alarm clock mocked me with their late hour. I stood up, stretching and feeling my heartbeat slowly return to normal. I changed into a t-shirt and shuffled toward the bed, determined to banish the lingering unease.

As I passed the window, something froze me in place. I looked down into the parking lot and saw him standing under a flickering lamppost, his gaze locked onto mine with a predatory intensity that made my blood run cold.

It was Hoseok—or at least, it looked like him. But the resemblance was grotesquely twisted. His eyes glowed with an otherworldly light, a sickly luminescence that cut through the night like a malevolent beacon. His skin was peeling away in ragged strips, as if he were shedding himself like a decaying husk. This was no longer my Hoseok. He was a creature of nightmares, a monster forged from my darkest fears.

My fingers clung to the windowsill as I stared, my body paralyzed by the overwhelming urge to run to him, to give in to the magnetic pull of his presence. I watched as his lips moved, shaping a single word that seemed to echo through the chill of the night.

“Soon.”

I gasped, my breath catching in my throat. I squeezed my eyes shut, willing the vision to vanish. When I opened them again, the parking lot was empty, the lamppost casting its pallid light over a sea of unmoving cars. I rubbed my eyes in disbelief, snatched my blanket and pillow, and stumbled back to the on-call room, desperate to escape the sinister call that still haunted the dark corners of my mind.

October 28, 1997

"What should I do?" the nurse asked, her name slipping from my mind like a shadow lost in the night.

"Give them some space," I replied, my gaze fixed resolutely away from the room across the hall. Elizabeth had just passed away, her DNR a cold, ironclad barrier that left no room for last-ditch efforts. Her family needed their final moments with her while we waited for the body to be transported. Mary was still wailing into her husband's chest, and Elijah looked like he'd been dragged through a storm, barely able to stand. Percy stood like a marble statue, his eyes glazed over while his wife clung to him. The sight of Percy’s frozen, unseeing expression twisted my gut in a way I couldn’t ignore. It reminded me too much of what I feared—and I needed to escape the suffocating atmosphere of grief.

"Should we get them out of the room?" another nurse asked, her thick southern drawl hinting at Memphis. "Seeing her like that can’t be good for their mental well-being."

I shook my head. "Let them have their last moments in peace. Offer condolences and check on them regularly."

I fiddled nervously with my ID card, the familiar unease gnawing at me. My wounds from the day seemed too fresh. Miles surfaced in my thoughts again, and I resolved to call my brother on my way home tonight. Hoseok wasn’t working tonight, so he wouldn’t join me on the subway.

"I'm going to check in with 211," I murmured, watching Percy leave the room, clutching his phone like a lifeline. "I’ll be back in 5-10 minutes to see if the family needs anything. Just make them as comfortable as you can."

"You got it, doc."

The subway ride home was a silent affair. My headache throbbed like a relentless drum, and my stomach churned uneasily. The day had been heavy with more deaths than usual. Elizabeth’s family had eventually calmed down, but their kindness on their way out hadn’t eased the knot in my chest. I knew their pain intimately.

I called my brother as I made my way to the subway. Despite his complicated feelings about our mother, he was always supportive. The conversation ended abruptly when Aurora entered the room, demanding his attention. Miles had never truly understood my emotions; I doubted he ever tried.

The short walk home from the subway was a blessing, though the cold night air bit at my skin. I was grateful for the proximity of my apartment, but the streets were alive with noise—tourists laughing, gang members shouting outside their apartment complexes. I was relieved to escape the chaos, though my street wasn’t entirely free of foot traffic. My old apartment in East Harlem had been more of a hustle, with late-night carpooling with a coworker whose name eluded me. I knew it started with an 'A,' but the memory only worsened my headache. I set the thought aside for another time.

After selling the family home in Florida and vacation properties scattered across the country, I’d managed to buy a house on Astro Row at 100th and 30th Street. It was an old building—too expensive for its size, and initially, it seemed far from beautiful. But over time, it grew on me. I loved the brownstones, the front porches, the grand trees, and the quiet streets. I couldn’t imagine leaving. Even the renovations I’d planned were postponed. The charm of the old place had won me over, and I’d made peace with its quirks. I even got along with my neighbor, a small but welcome relief.

Tonight was quieter than usual, and none of my neighbors seemed awake. I missed the old man at the end of the street who used to sit on his porch, sipping coffee and waiting for dawn. It was nearly 4:30 AM. I shrugged and continued; my mind focused on the comfort of my bed.

Fumbling for my keys, I cursed quietly when my pockets were empty. My purse, a cavernous mess of clutter, swallowed everything. As I dug through it, a sudden burst of laughter behind me made me freeze. Two women strolled down the sidewalk, their laughter echoing off the walls. They were both stunning, their pale skin glowing under the moonlight. One of them locked eyes with me, her gaze piercing through the darkness. She looked at me as if she’d seen a ghost, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that she knew me.

"Hello," she said, her voice as light and tinkling as a bell.

"Hi," I replied, feeling strangely off-balance.

The other woman seemed perplexed. Her beauty was almost ethereal, with blonde hair as pale as her skin and eyes as dark as night. Her gaze swept over me with an unmistakable disdain, her teeth bared in a slight sneer. Yet, despite her apparent coldness, she was undeniably beautiful.

"How are you?" the first woman asked, her voice soothing.

"Fine," I responded, my throat dry. "And you?"

The nagging headache intensified as I tried to make sense of the encounter, a sense of déjà vu wrapping around me like a tightening noose. The women moved on, their laughter fading into the night, leaving me with a lingering unease that clung to me like the shadows of my dreams.

She studied me, her face a shifting canvas of emotions before settling into a look of genuine confusion. I tried to place her but struggled. There was something crucial I needed to remember, something just out of reach, but my mind remained stubbornly blank. A frantic urge to call Hoseok seized me.

The realization hit me like a cold slap. Why did I think I needed him? I tried to convince myself I could handle this alone. But deep down, I knew I needed him here. He could make this headache vanish, soothe the gnawing anxiety that had taken root in my chest. I missed him. I loved him. I needed him…

“What's your name?” she asked, her smile both disarming and unsettling, making my thoughts scatter like leaves in a storm.

“Y/N,” I replied, feeling dazed and disconnected.

“Cold night, Y/N,” she purred, her gaze never wavering. “You should get inside.”

I nodded absently, my words failing me as I fumbled with my keys. The blonde woman's giggle, filled with an eerie excitement, made me shiver. I wanted to retreat, to escape this strange encounter. I shoved the key into the lock, eager to shut out the unsettling night.

“Y/N,” the first woman’s voice halted me, her tone chillingly smooth. Neither of them had moved since they stopped. The blonde’s smile remained fixed, and I couldn’t bring myself to meet the other woman’s eyes. “Be careful out here. You never know who’s wandering around.”

I nodded, turning the doorknob, but her voice stopped me again.

“I work at a bar in Midtown,” she said, her words snagging my attention like a hook. I had always known she worked at a bar, but why was it important? “It’s called Dauphine. Ever heard of it?”

Yes, I wanted to say. That place haunted my nightmares, a dark shadow that clung to the edges of my memory. But I couldn’t piece together why. Hoseok would know. He’d make everything better. No, my mind screamed—he’d only make it worse. I couldn’t say how I knew this, but I wanted to listen to the little voice inside me tonight. Something was very wrong.

“You should come by sometime,” she offered. “We’re on 1st and East 54th in the far corner of the Diamond District. If you need anything, just ask for ‘Bootsy.’”

Bootsy…

“Are you okay with cherry liquor?” she asked.

I let go of the doorknob and turned to face them fully. I couldn’t meet either of their eyes. The sensation was all too familiar. I took a deep breath, bracing myself for the answer I didn’t want to hear.

“Do you know Hoseok? He’s my boyfriend.”

The blonde hissed sharply. Bootsy gasped, her face a mask of surprise and something darker, more shadowy. It was clear that Hoseok was connected to these people, tangled up with my memories of New York, the root of all my confusion. I missed him. I loved him. I needed him…

No, I shook my head. Was that what he wanted me to believe? I wasn’t sure anymore.

“Yes,” Bootsy finally replied. “I’ve known him for many, many years.”

Before I could second-guess myself, I slammed the door shut and locked it. The blonde finally moved, stepping away from Bootsy and muttering something I couldn’t catch. She disappeared down the street, leaving me alone with my racing thoughts.

“What’s wrong with me?” I muttered through the door, my voice tinged with desperation.

Bootsy’s response came through with a sorrowful edge. “I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

I shook my head, my headache pounding with such intensity that I could barely keep my eyes open. “It’s him, isn’t it?” I asked, my voice breaking. “I don’t understand what’s happening. It’s like I remember things but not really, and everything goes blank every time he’s around.”

Bootsy’s eyes, a deep crimson, darted around nervously. They seemed to glow faintly, like a cat’s eyes in the dark. Her dark hair framed her face perfectly, glossy and sleek. Bootsy wasn’t human. What she was, I couldn’t say. But she was somehow tied to the nightmares that plagued me, and Hoseok’s shadow loomed larger than ever.

“He’s a demon,” she whispered hurriedly, her words laced with a fear that seemed almost tangible. “I can’t tell you exactly what he’s done. I’ve never known him to keep someone around for this long, but whatever you’ve done to make him want you seems to have spared your life. You should have died back in ’92 with your friend.”

A friend? Someone else had been involved? Hoseok was a demon? The fragments Bootsy offered were like pieces of a shattered mirror, reflecting a reality I could barely grasp. I believed her, though. I had no reason not to. My memories felt like they were being twisted, distorted by Hoseok’s manipulations.

Then I thought of the creature outside of the hospital and felt my knees go numb. I hadn't hallucinated anything. It was real. It was him. Oh my God.

“We can’t talk for long,” she said, a look of pained urgency on her face. “He won’t sleep for much longer.”

“What can I do?” I begged, clutching my head as if I could squeeze out the pain. It was unbearable. “God, it hurts.”

“Nothing,” Bootsy’s voice trembled. “Hoseok wants you, and he’s never lost a game. It doesn’t matter where you go or what you do; he will win. Whatever you’ve been doing has kept you alive this long, but I don’t know how much time you have left.”

Her words hit me like a tidal wave, crashing over me and dragging me under. I had been a pawn in Hoseok’s twisted game, my life manipulated by his cruel whims. What did he want from me? My body? My soul? The realization was suffocating.

“Go to Dauphine and find Taehyung,” Bootsy instructed, her voice carrying a chilling finality despite its almost maternal tone. “He had a soft spot for you back then. If you’re lucky, he might be able to change you, make you like us. That might be enough to satisfy Hoseok.”

Taehyung. The name cut through the fog in my mind like a beacon, easing the throbbing in my head, if only for a moment. He had haunted my dreams, his image vivid: a white button-up shirt, his gentle hands, his voice firm yet tender, saying he didn’t want to share me. He had left me in that bar, but the details were fuzzy—how or why I had ended up there was a blur. All I knew was that I was lost, and he had once been my guide.

She paused, her eyes darkening with a weighty empathy. “You’d be luckier if Taehyung agrees to end your life before the demon does. I wouldn’t wish this half-life on anyone, nor would I be glad to see you die, but those are your choices. I can’t guarantee you’ll make it through this.”

“What happened in ’92?” I asked, my voice barely more than a whisper, thick with desperation.

Bootsy shook her head, her expression darkening with sorrow. “He killed your friend and tried to lure you away. That's all I know, and I don't have time to explain the rest. The sun’s about to rise, and your demon will be waiting for you to fall asleep. Don’t fight it. Let it happen. If he knows you’re aware of him, he might decide to kill you.”

It felt wrong to just let it happen. What would this mean for me in the end? Would knowing about his influence change anything? I couldn’t be sure, but if I wanted to buy myself time, I had no choice but to take the risk. I needed answers, a plan, anything to regain control.

“Y/N,” Bootsy’s urgent voice cut through my spiraling thoughts. “Your memories won't come back unless he wants them to. Let it go. Either way you'll be dead.”

With those final, haunting words, Bootsy vanished as quickly as she had appeared. The weight of my predicament pressed heavily on my shoulders, my impending doom looming like a dark cloud. I stumbled back to the porch, unlocked the front door, and sought refuge in the sanctuary of my bed. Bootsy’s grim mantra echoed in my mind as I tried to push aside my troubling thoughts about Hoseok, grappling with the uncertainty that lay ahead.

He appeared to me then, in a vision that was both intoxicating and horrifying. His eyes sparkled with a predatory thrill, his touch setting my skin ablaze, igniting waves of pleasure that crashed over me with ruthless intensity. His worship was ceaseless, his lips warm and insistent, as if trying to devour every shred of my resistance. I was swallowed by him, lost in a whirlwind of passion that twisted the love I once felt (at least, I believed I felt) into something darker, more insidious. I missed him. I loved him. I needed him…

Bootsy’s words had struck me like a death knell, sealing my fate in an irreversible descent. She had unwittingly set my downfall into motion, transforming innocent affection into a ravenous lust that consumed every corner of my mind. When I awoke late in the evening, the decision to call off work for the rest of the week came with a grim resignation. The struggle to stay awake was in vain; it was becoming starkly clear how deeply Hoseok’s control had embedded itself within me. The inevitable was no longer a distant threat—it had already begun to unfold, dragging me into its dark embrace.

October 31, 1997

I tugged nervously at my skirt, my fingers trembling despite the cool night air that should have been a relief. The address that had arrived this morning was burned into my mind, glaring at me from the top of the paper—Dauphine, the bar Bootsy had mentioned. My plans were clear: find Bootsy, get directions, speak with this Taehyung, and figure out my options. But the gnawing truth was unavoidable—no matter what I did, it felt like my life was already slipping through my fingers.

Sleep deprivation had become my relentless tormentor. My eyelids felt heavy, weighted down by leaden exhaustion, and my attempts to feign illness to dodge work had morphed into a grim reality. It was a battle to stay awake each day, and I feared that simply making it to this bar would be a Herculean task.

I stared at myself in the mirror, trying to adjust the wig perched precariously on my head. I’d opted for a lazy Halloween costume—a half-hearted Cher from *Clueless*. The yellow plaid blazer was a thrift store find, the skirt a serendipitous discovery. But the wig made me look more like a grotesque caricature than a character. Frustrated, I yanked it off and tossed it onto the floor. I’d have to go without it.

Yawning, I fought the overwhelming urge to collapse back into bed. My cab was on its way, and I had to be ready. I gathered my essentials—purse, house keys, phone, and a spare outfit—preparing for a night that could very well be my last. I steeled myself for the confrontation, even if it felt like a hopeless, losing battle.

My daily struggle with myself had turned into a monotonous grind. My feigned illness had kept Hoseok at a distance, but it had only given me more time to spiral into despair over his influence. My mind was a battleground, where fragments of my past life clashed with the twisted desires he’d implanted in me. Every morning, I awoke to a gnawing need, a desperate craving for him that left me feeling sullied and repulsed.

I stepped outside and drew a shaky breath of the crisp night air. Calling my brother was both a comfort and a torment. There was a chance this could be the last time I spoke to him, and the thought tightened my chest like a vise. I fought back tears as I dialed his number.

“Hello?” Miles answered, his voice warm and familiar.

“Hey,” I forced a cheerful tone, though it felt hollow. “Still out Trick-or-Treating?”

“We just got back,” he said. “Rory wants to talk to you.”

My heart ached at the sound of my niece’s voice. “Hi, Auntie,” she said, her voice sweet as ever. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too, baby,” I sniffled, fighting to keep my voice steady. “Did you have fun?”

“Yeah!” Aurora’s excitement was a bright spot in my darkness. “I was Katerina, mommy was Miss Elaina, and daddy was Daniel Tiger.”

“That sounds amazing,” I wiped away my tears. “What about your baby brother?”

Aurora’s voice took on a scolding tone. “His name is Corbin, Auntie,” she said as though I should have known better. “He’s still in mommy’s belly, so he wasn’t anything. Mommy’s giving him candy.”

I laughed, though it was tinged with sadness. “How’s your mommy?”

“She says ‘Hi,’” Aurora replied. “We got the best candy! A lady was giving out big Starbursts. Daddy’s letting me have all the pink ones because I’m special.”

“You are special, sweet girl.”

A painful thought intruded—would Hoseok make them forget me if I asked him? The idea was almost too agonizing to bear. He’d kept me alive for five years, a perverse form of flattery that I struggled to appreciate. My self-loathing deepened as I thought about the life I was about to leave behind.

“Daddy says I have to go,” Aurora pouted. “Bye, Auntie.”

“Bye, Rory girl,” I choked out, my voice cracking as the tears welled up. “I love you.”

“Love you more,” Aurora’s sweet voice drifted through the line, a beacon of innocence in my storm of dread.

I gasped, the floodgates opening as I fought to keep my composure. “Impossible,” I managed to whisper, my throat tight with sorrow.

“Why?” she giggled, her innocent curiosity slicing through my resolve.

“Because,” I said, my voice barely a whisper, “I love you more than the world.”

Aurora’s laughter began to fade as she handed the phone back to Miles. The sound of her giggles and her mother’s laughter echoed in the background, a cruel reminder of the life I was about to lose. My heart clenched painfully at the thought of never hearing those sounds again.

“What’s up, sissy?” Miles asked, his tone tinged with concern.

“I was just heading out,” I said, forcing a tremulous cheerfulness into my voice. “Thought I’d call before my cab gets here. I’m leaving a little early.”

There was a heavy pause on the other end, a silence that spoke louder than words.

“Everything okay, Y/N? You sound upset.”

“No, no,” I hurried to reassure him, biting my lip to keep from sobbing. “Just tired. You know how it is.”

“You sure?” Miles pressed, his concern palpable. He was always too perceptive for his own good, but he never pushed too hard. I hoped he wouldn’t miss me too much.

“I’m positive, Bubba,” I said, my eyes darting to the cab pulling up to the curb. “My ride’s here. I love you.”

“Love you too, sis. Call me later?”

“I’ll try to remember in the morning,” I said, attempting to sound upbeat despite the crushing weight in my chest. “I know it’s late for you guys.”

I closed my phone with shaking hands and stuffed it into my purse, the weight of my decisions pressing down on me. The cab driver approached, his face a blur through my tears.

“Where to?” he asked, his voice a lifeline in the growing storm of my fear.

“1st and East 54th in the Diamond District,” I replied, offering a weak, strained smile.

“Dauphine?” The driver’s eyes flicked to me in the rearview mirror, a hint of something unsettling in his gaze. “Ever been there before?”

“Yeah,” I mumbled, trying to steady my breath. “I don’t remember it all that well. Guess I had too much fun last time.”

“Watch yourself,” the driver said, turning on the radio with a slow, deliberate movement. “That place is crawling with freaks.”

“Welcome to New York,” I muttered, more to myself than him.

He chuckled, his voice a touch too jovial. “Been here my whole life. My name’s Jimin. Call me if you need a getaway driver.”

The car rumbled with the low hum of R&B, Jimin fiddling with the radio as if trying to mask the creeping anxiety that gnawed at my insides. I mouthed the lyrics, trying to drown out the terror that threatened to consume me.

My thoughts were a twisted mess of fear and longing. The image of Hoseok, tainted by his manipulation, flickered through my mind. The desire to escape him was overpowered by the suffocating grip of my own confusion. Taehyung was my last, desperate hope—a fleeting chance at redemption. But deep down, a gnawing realization settled in I was already damned, teetering on the edge with no way back.

The mantra echoed relentlessly in my head: I miss him, love him, and need him…

I was spiraling, caught in a web of my own making, and the thought of facing what awaited me at Dauphine was almost too much to bear.

“We’re here,” Jimin's voice cut through the thick fog of dread that enveloped me.

“Thanks for the ride,” I muttered, my fingers trembling as I fumbled with the cash. I handed him a generous tip, a feeble attempt to cling to some semblance of normalcy.

The alleyway stretched before me, a grim path between the upscale buildings of the Diamond District. It looked less menacing than I’d imagined, but its familiarity offered no comfort. Dim street lamps cast weak pools of light that barely touched the encroaching darkness. I hoped—prayed—that Hoseok wasn’t already here. The fading daylight gave me just enough visibility to navigate, and the murmur of voices outside the bar was a small, shaky comfort. I clung to the hope that these voices belonged to ordinary people, potential witnesses if I needed to make a quick escape.

As I approached, the group of people outside fell silent. My stomach churned violently, and bile rose in my throat, threatening to spill. I couldn’t bring myself to turn and face them; their gaze was almost a physical presence, making my skin crawl even though I never looked directly at them. A low, sinister snicker from one of them sent a shiver down my spine, amplifying my fear. I hadn’t even seen their faces, yet their mere presence was enough to make me quake.

The bouncer at the gate eyed me with a scrutinizing glare.

“Password,” he demanded, his voice flat and unyielding.

“I-” I stammered, my mind racing to recall the password Hoseok had given me. “Audubon.”

The gate creaked open, and I slipped past the security guard, my heart pounding like a drum. Despite my nervous bravado, the bouncer’s indifference did little to soothe me. Once inside, I felt a fleeting sense of relief, escaping the unsettling stares.

I gripped my bag tightly, knuckles white, and started searching for the bar. The interior was starkly underwhelming—plush couches and private booths scattered haphazardly, with red neon signs pointing to the restrooms. The oppressive red and black color scheme was heavy, but thankfully devoid of any overtly horrific scenes. I had no desire for strobe lights or dance floors; the thought of walking into a trap was more than enough to keep me on edge.

Navigating through the dimly lit space, I felt like I was moving through a maze. The long hallway ahead seemed to stretch into an abyss, the darkness intensifying with each step. The oppressive gloom and the eerie silence made my nerves jangle. The jazz music that had been softly playing in the background had faded, leaving me in a disquieting void.

At the end of the hall, the emptiness was almost a relief. The silence was oppressive but meant I wasn’t walking into a room full of hostile eyes. Perhaps this was how I’d met Bootsy—wandering aimlessly until she had found me and guided me out.

The bar seemed to stretch on forever, an architectural labyrinth that added to my growing sense of dread. I held my breath as the walls seemed to close in, my anxiety a tangible weight pressing against my chest. The high ceilings and claustrophobic spaces combined to create a sensation of being trapped. My heels clicked sharply against the linoleum, the sound echoing eerily in the silence. The place felt more like a mausoleum than a bar. Every step heightened my unease, and the hairs on my neck stood on end as I glanced around, trying to ignore the creeping terror that threatened to overwhelm me.

“Hello?” I called out, my voice trembling as it cut through the oppressive silence. “Is anybody here?”

The sudden sound of a voice behind me made me jump, my heart racing as I spun around with a gasp that morphed into a shriek. My balance faltered, and I slammed into the wall, scraping my arm against the rough surface. The sharp sting of pain was immediate and searing. I clutched my injured arm, the pain and the shock making my vision blur. I turned to face the figure who had startled me.

He stood there, his white button-down shirt contrasting sharply with the dim surroundings. His tall, lean frame was framed by broad shoulders, and his long fingers seemed to move with an effortless grace. But it was his smile that made my blood run cold—a wide, boxy grin that stretched unnaturally across his face, his eyes glinting with a mischievous, unsettling light.

“My apologies,” he said, his voice dripping with a smooth, honeyed tone. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

I glared at him, struggling to steady my breathing and regain my composure. “It’s fine. It didn’t kill me, did it?”

He chuckled softly; a sound that felt more sinister than soothing. “You’re bleeding,” he said, his gaze dropping to my arm.

I looked down and saw blood seeping through a tear in my blazer. The sight of my own blood was like a cruel reminder of my vulnerability. The pain, combined with the sight of my blood, pushed me to the edge. My hands shook as I raised them to my face, tears welling up uncontrollably. The enormity of my situation crashed down on me like a tidal wave. Everything felt chaotic; my life had been turned upside down, and the relentless pounding in my head was unbearable. I should have stayed home. At least Hoseok’s presence, while twisted, had been a semblance of comfort.

The despair was suffocating.

“Are you okay, sha?” His voice was soft, but his touch on my arm was disconcertingly gentle.

I laughed, a hollow, despairing sound. “Does it look like it?”

“No, you look upset,” he replied, his eyes glinting with an unsettling mixture of sympathy and amusement.

“You don’t say?” I snapped, rolling my eyes and jerking my arm away from his touch.

Despite my evident distress, he remained unnervingly calm, his smile lingering like a dark shadow. His pleasure at my discomfort was unsettling, and the aura around him felt eerily similar to the disquieting presence of those outside. His attractiveness was overshadowed by a deeply disturbing quality that made me want to flee. It was as if fear had paralyzed me, pinning me in place.

Suddenly, a chilling realization hit me. As I forced myself to examine his face more closely, I recognized him from the shadows of my past. He was strikingly beautiful in a haunting way, like Bootsy. His pale skin was almost luminescent, and his eyes, once hidden in the darkness, now revealed flecks of red that seemed to glow with a menacing, otherworldly light. They were mesmerizing yet horrifying, a dangerous allure that made my skin crawl. The spell he cast was broken as quickly as it had begun, and I struggled to look him in the eye again.

“You’re looking for me, aren’t you?” His voice was a silky whisper that seemed to wrap around me, tightening with a sinister intent.

Embarrassed by my earlier outburst, I nodded slowly. My hope of finding help felt increasingly elusive as the night grew darker and more menacing. All I wanted was to escape, but the hope that things might improve clung stubbornly to me. Taehyung exuded a disorienting blend of warmth and menace, a mix of comfort and dread that left me feeling more lost than ever.

“I’m sorry for being snappy,” I said, my voice quivering as I wiped away a tear. “I don’t remember you all that well.”

Or at all, my mind whispered in the encroaching darkness. The more I looked at him, the more I felt Hoseok’s oppressive influence tugging at my thoughts. Images of Hoseok’s touch, his voice, his eyes—each one flared in my mind with an insidious intensity. He misses you; he loves you, he needs you…

“Requiem was wrong,” Taehyung murmured, his fingers chillingly cold as they cradled my face. “You’re too far gone.”

“Who?” I managed to ask, my voice trembling and my head spinning. His touch was both numbing and intoxicating.

“Bootsy,” he cooed, his breath a mix of cotton and sweet pine needles. “She said you had a chance, but she was mistaken. My friend has already completed the bond.”

“W-what?” I whispered, dazed and confused. The throbbing ache in my head resonated with Taehyung’s presence. “What bond?”

“Maybe not,” he whispered, his proximity making my pulse race.

When his lips met mine, they were like ice, yet the jolt of electricity that surged through me made my knees buckle. His laughter was dark and twisted as he wrapped an arm around my waist, his tongue brushing against my lips. I mewled, clutching his shoulders as the electric sensation overwhelmed me. His groan sent shivers through my entire body, and the echo of Hoseok’s voice in my head was relentless. He misses you, he loves you, he needs you…

Suddenly, I shoved Taehyung away, gasping for air as a searing pain exploded in my head. It felt as if a sledgehammer had struck my temple. My vision swam, and I collapsed to my knees, tears streaming down my face as I sobbed uncontrollably.

“Poor child,” Taehyung crooned, kneeling beside me. His scent, soothing yet oddly comforting, did little to ease the tremors wracking my body. “I’m so sorry, but I cannot help you.”

“I’m going to die,” I sobbed, my voice cracking under the weight of my despair.

“Yes,” he said calmly. “The pain will lessen once you accept it; accept him.”

“What does he want?” I managed to choke out.

“Can’t you see?” Taehyung’s eyes glittered ominously in the dim light. “He believes he’s in love with you. It’s a pity, really. I want nothing more than to keep you, but I can’t risk angering him. He would destroy Requiem for revealing his secrets; she is my most cherished friend. Do you understand?”

Numbly, I nodded. I’m going to die. I miss him. I’m going to die. He loves you. I’m going to die. I need him. I’m going to die. I love him. He needs you. I’m—

“Your eyes look just like his,” Taehyung marveled, his gaze softening. “He’s bound to you in a way I’ve never seen before.”

As I stared at Taehyung, my vision began to blur, and the voices in my head whispered louder in the dark corners of my mind. Their weight pressed down on me, my eyes rolling back until all I could see was a void. When I came to, I was horrified to find vomit splattered across Taehyung’s pristine white shirt. His expression twisted in horror and pain as he watched me unravel.

A dark, malevolent presence loomed near, its acrid stench of soot and kerosene overwhelming my senses. My head throbbed as if it had been cleaved in two, and a grotesque, pecking sensation gnawed at my exposed, vulnerable insides. Taehyung’s icy touch against my rigid form offered little comfort as I lay helpless against his chest, terror seeping in with every passing second.

“There’s my girl!” Hoseok’s voice cut through the haze of despair, and just like that, the pain evaporated.

I exhaled, sinking into Taehyung’s embrace. His body felt like ice against my fevered skin, a chilling contrast that brought an unexpected relief. His cool fingers traced my scalp, their touch a soothing balm amidst the chaos.

“I hope you understand Bootsy’s decision,” Taehyung’s voice was as cold as his touch, carrying a weight of finality. “She thought you were still playing games. But she was wrong.”

A deep, resonant rumble filled the space, and Hoseok’s voice emerged from the darkness like a spectral echo.

“Requiem has every right to her judgment,” Hoseok said, his voice a smooth caress laced with menace. “If it were anyone else, I might not care. But Y/N’s suffering is a consequence of her meddling. I had hoped to keep her alive.”

“Why?” I croaked, the question barely escaping my lips.

“You’re my special girl,” Hoseok purred, his voice dripping with a twisted, cruel fondness. “So innocent, so malleable. You’re perfect.”

A strange calm enveloped me as I lay against Taehyung, the tumult of emotions and pain fading to a low murmur. Hoseok’s presence hung over me like a dark, oppressive cloud, his words a cruel mockery of the comfort I desperately sought.

Taehyung’s fingers moved through my hair with a cold, almost clinical precision. “You’ve been chosen,” he said softly, his voice carrying an unsettling calm. “It’s a rare bond that neither Bootsy nor I can undo. I wish there was something more I could do for you.”

My vision blurred, shadows of past anguish swirling around me. Hoseok’s voice echoed in my mind, a haunting lullaby that twisted my insides. “You’re mine, Y/N. No matter how you struggle, you are woven into my essence.”

The room seemed to constrict, the walls inching inward, shadows elongating and darkening. A biting chill settled over the space, the whispers of the damned intertwining with my deepest fears. I could almost see their forms, spectral and menacing, reaching out from the darkness.

I struggled to my feet, the world spinning dizzily around me. My head throbbed with a relentless ache, my heart pounding like a trapped bird. I stumbled away from Taehyung’s unnervingly composed presence, my eyes darting frantically for any sign of escape or salvation.

“Y/N,” Hoseok’s voice was a dissonant blend of soothing and threatening. “Don’t run from me. You belong here, with me.”

My breath came in ragged gasps, the overwhelming urge to flee battling with a stubborn thread of hope tangled in my despair. My thoughts were a chaotic mess, clinging to the faintest possibility of survival amidst the encroaching darkness.

I turned to Taehyung, my gaze pleading, desperate. “Is there no way out? Is there any hope left?”

Taehyung’s expression softened with a mixture of pity and sorrow. “Try to enjoy your final moments.”

Footsteps echoed ominously down the corridor, each step deliberate and foreboding. My heart leaped as a figure emerged from the gloom. Bootsy. Her presence was both a flicker of reassurance and a shadow of dread.

“I’m sorry,” Bootsy’s voice was a murmur of regret in the darkness.

I looked at her, then back at Taehyung, and finally at the encroaching shadows that seemed to reach out with a ravenous hunger. The weight of the choice, of my impending doom, pressed heavily on my chest, threatening to crush me under its gravity.

With a shuddering breath, I steeled myself. “I can’t let this happen to me,” I said, my voice trembling but resolute. “I don’t want this.”

The room seemed to hold its breath, the darkness thickening. Hoseok’s laughter echoed through the void, a low, mocking sound that sent icy shivers down my spine. “Of course you do. You wouldn’t be writhing on the floor if you didn’t.”

The shadows deepened, the walls closing in as if reality itself was warping to ensnare me. A cold grip tightened around my soul, a force dragging me back into the abyss I had fought so hard to escape. An aching chill settled below my diaphragm, squeezing the breath from my lungs. My head spun again, his voice a soft whisper in the recesses of my mind. I miss you. I love you. I need you…

Don’t leave me.

Taehyung’s expression hardened into one of grim resignation. “You’re already bound to him. The bond is too strong.”

As I fought against the invisible chains tightening around me, the futility of my struggle became all too apparent. The darkness swallowed me whole, dragging me back into the depths I had desperately tried to escape.

“Please,” I whispered into the void, but the darkness consumed my plea. “Please, no.”

Hoseok’s voice filled the void, smooth and victorious. “Welcome home, darling.”

The last glimmers of light vanished, leaving me in an eternal night, a prisoner of my own choices and the dark forces that had ensnared me. My mind fractured under the weight of the consuming darkness, and as the final remnants of my resistance crumbled, I faced the harrowing truth.

There was no salvation. No escape. Only the endless, consuming dark.

And in that darkness, I was utterly, irrevocably alone.

I don’t know how long I’ve been trapped in this suffocating darkness—hours, days, months, or maybe even years. Time has become an abstract concept here, slipping through my grasp like the thin veil of reality that separates me from the void. The only link to the world beyond this prison is Hoseok, a ghostly presence who appears with a gleam in his eyes that chills me to the bone. His voice, carrying the weight of a thousand tortured souls, always asks the same haunting question: How are you feeling?

We were never friends. Each passing day has sharpened my memories into a cruel clarity. I don’t know where my physical body is—doubtful it’s anywhere near this place. The ink and paper I use to write materialize out of nowhere whenever I need them, appearing and disappearing like phantoms in my disturbed mind. This place defies all logic and reason.

Initially, I fought Hoseok with every ounce of my being. Each refusal brought excruciating pain that felt like it would tear me apart. My screams echoed back at me from the oppressive void, unanswered and ignored. Hoseok would slip into the darkness with a silent, predatory grace, his hot hands roaming over my shivering body before I even knew he was there. I would scramble away, howling and begging him to take me home, but he always left without a word.

Eventually, I gave up the fight. I accepted that escape was impossible, even though my soul still ached for my old life. The pain eased only when I surrendered, and Hoseok’s visits grew more frequent. They were filled with idle chatter about his plans for me. I learned he was a demon, and I was destined to become one too. The possession would erase most of who I once was, but when I awoke, we would be forever linked as master and shade. My freedom would only come after I took my first human life, but that day seemed impossibly distant. Hoseok savored every bite of my soul with a mournful delight.

What I felt for Hoseok wasn’t love—it was an obsession, a malignant force that had seeped into every corner of my being. “A natural reaction of a shade to its master,” he said. I was bound to him, and escape was nothing but a cruel illusion.

The first signs of my unraveling appeared when Hoseok vanished for days on end. In the infinite darkness, where time had no meaning, his absence was a torment of its own. Despite his power to bend reality, he chose to leave me here, dependent on his presence for any sign of change. I began talking to myself, my voice the only sound in the oppressive silence. I spoke for hours, my throat raw and hoarse from the effort, desperately trying to fend off the encroaching madness.

I felt like an addict in withdrawal. I don’t recall when hallucinations began, but soon I was conversing with a phantom chorus of voices. Deep down, I knew it was Hoseok orchestrating these illusions, but my fractured mind twisted reality into something I could barely comprehend. My hatred for him only served to cloud my already distorted perception.

As time dragged on, I grew weary. My speech turned into riddles, convinced I was a prophet receiving divine revelations. Raised Catholic, I had long drifted from faith, but the darkness reignited an obsession with God. I clung desperately to fragmented Bible verses. Hoseok, ever the manipulator, provided me with a Bible. If I weren’t so far gone, I might have questioned his uncanny ability to fulfill my twisted needs.

When I told Hoseok about my religious background, he laughed, and the darkness morphed into a cathedral. For the first time, there was something tangible to focus on during his absences. It was both a prison and a gift. The pews were filled with spectral congregants, and every day became Sunday. I feverishly wrote sermons, warning of the apocalypse. Hoseok attended with a devotion bordering on reverence, but he always left too soon.

The withdrawal pangs paralyzed me, but incessant talking kept the crushing loneliness at bay. I remember the first encounter after becoming accustomed to this madness. My body trembled with need, yet my mind remained alert. Each denial of release brought physical agony, and Hoseok’s visits grew more frequent and prolonged. My breakdown was inevitable.

On the day of my final descent, I felt his presence before I saw him. My struggle had reached its nadir. Despite my lingering hope for escape, Hoseok’s presence shattered my resolve. I became an all-too-willing participant in his dark designs. Even now, as I lie prostrate in my despair, I can’t escape the haunting reality of my existence.

The words of the prayer rolled off my tongue like a ghostly murmur in the dim, solemn church. Each syllable was a desperate plea, a sacrament of my crumbling faith:

“Soul of Christ, sanctify me.”

“Body of Christ, save me.”

“Blood of Christ, inebriate me.”

This prayer was a twisted sacrament, a litany of sacred pleas that felt increasingly like cries into the void.

“Water from Christ’s side, wash me.”

“Passion of Christ, strengthen me.”

“O good Jesus, hear me.”

I bowed my head, eyes squeezed shut like a child hiding from monsters under the bed. My hands gripped tightly in a futile attempt to hold onto my sanity. I prayed not just for absolution but for a distraction, for him to stay away, for the sinful thoughts to dissipate like smoke in the sun.

“Y/N,” a voice whispered, spectral and insistent, urging me to rise, to accept, to finally bend to its will.

Reluctantly, I dragged myself to the pulpit, my legs trembling. I focused on the Gospel before me, the rhythm of my breath, the rehearsed words of today’s homily. I could hear murmurs of anticipation swelling in the pews, bouncing off the stone walls like echoes of forgotten promises.

Did they know? Did they sense the darkness creeping into my soul?

To be honest, I was unsure if anyone was really there or if my mind was playing tricks on me. This place had a maddening ability to distort my perception. I steadied myself, nodding to the organ player, offering a fleeting smile to the choir’s children—figments of my fractured mind. Their eyes, hungry for guidance, believed in my wisdom, though I felt utterly unworthy. Their gaze was a reflection of my own inner torment.

My eyes locked on a figure in the front row, right side, five seats in. My breath hitched, caught in my throat, as I beheld him. Jeans, t-shirt, leather jacket—an irreverent defiance slicing through the sanctity of the church. His gaze was a burning, unholy fire that cut through the darkness with unnerving clarity.

In that moment, the last vestiges of my sanity crumbled, leaving me exposed to the consuming darkness that had become my prison.

I steadied myself, nodding to the organ player, and offered a fleeting smile to the choir’s children, who I no longer believed were real. My gaze wandered over the congregation, each face a testament to a faith I felt unworthy of. Their eyes, brimming with expectation, seemed to pierce through me, demanding guidance I could no longer provide. I questioned my own sanity, wondering if anyone in that room could see how profoundly empty I felt.

I once had everything figured out. Before this… before him.

My eyes locked on a single figure in the front row, right side, five seats in. My breath hitched, caught in my throat. There he was: jeans, t-shirt, leather jacket—a casual defiance that sliced through the church’s sanctity like a blade. His legs were crossed, hands poised by his sides, eyes ablaze with a fire that seemed to burn straight through my composure.

No holy book in his hands, no righteous smile on his lips—just an unspoken, rebellious challenge. His presence was a magnetism that pulled me toward a pit of temptation and sin. I forgot my sermon. I forgot the vows and promises etched into my soul. The solemn pledges made to men of faith and to God. Promises I had written daily to stave off the creeping insanity.

Those promises now felt like distant echoes, overshadowed by him. His eyes, his lips, his rebellious aura—an inferno of forbidden heat that ignited a longing I could no longer contain. I closed my eyes, desperately trying to escape the searing image of him. Abs, legs, an all-consuming heat that seemed to draw me into its vortex.

When I opened my eyes again, the fire remained. A cough from the crowd jolted me back to the present. I tugged at my collar, the symbol of my childhood and a cruel gift from Hoseok. It used to offer comfort, a sign of belonging, but now it felt like a noose tightening around my neck.

The faces of the congregation were a sea of silent, unspoken questions. Their eyes bored into me, filled with unvoiced suspicions and judgments.

Shit.

My fingers trembled as I gripped the edges of the pulpit, trying to anchor myself amidst the spiraling chaos. The eyes of the congregation felt like spectral judgments, each one a reminder of my spiraling failure. Hoseok’s presence, fixed in my peripheral vision, was a constant, unsettling pull—a dark promise of chaos just beyond the edge of reason. It pressed heavily on my chest, a suffocating weight threatening to collapse my fragile sanity.

I forced my gaze back to the Gospel, attempting to focus on the familiar lines of scripture, hoping they would restore my fractured resolve. But the words on the page blurred and twisted, tangled in the storm raging inside my head. Each verse felt like wading through molasses, and a bead of sweat trickled down my temple, mingling with the cold sweat already gathering at the base of my neck. I cleared my throat, trying to regain control, but the sound emerged as a strangled rasp.

The whispers grew louder, like rustling wings pressing against the walls of my sanity. My heart pounded like a funeral drum, each beat a reminder of my mounting desperation. I could almost hear the devil’s laughter, mocking my feeble attempts to maintain a façade of righteousness.

Hoseok’s gaze was unwavering, a predator’s gaze that seemed to sear through my composure. His movements were fluid, deliberate—like a hunter preparing to strike. My mind raced, desperately searching for an escape from this hellish vortex. I glanced at the crucifix behind me, its hollow eyes and outstretched arms now a pitifully inadequate shield against the encroaching darkness. The sacred symbol that once offered solace now seemed like a cruel joke, highlighting how far I had strayed from purity.

The murmurs of the congregation grew insistent, a chorus of impatient whispers that echoed like an unholy chant. The church, once a sanctuary, now closed in around me, its weight suffocating. I took a deep breath, summoning the last remnants of my willpower. I forced myself to meet Hoseok’s gaze again, confronting the fiery rebellion in his eyes. He offered no sympathy, only a silent taunt that echoed my own guilt.

With a trembling hand, I reached for the microphone. My voice cracked as I began to speak, the words spilling out in a disjointed stream. I struggled to reclaim my authority, but with each passing moment, my grip on sanity slipped further. The congregation’s expressions shifted from curiosity to concern, then to alarm. Their faith faltered under the weight of my unraveling composure.

Hoseok’s gaze remained fixed, a dark star in a sea of light, drawing me inexorably towards his gravitational pull. My voice faltered, becoming increasingly erratic, reflecting the chaos within. The church fell into a tense silence, broken only by the rustling of the congregation’s uneasy shifting. I felt every eye on me, their silent judgment a palpable force.

My final words came out as a barely coherent murmur, a defeated whisper lost in the oppressive silence. I stumbled away from the pulpit, my mind a tempest of confusion and dread. As I retreated from the glaring scrutiny of the congregation, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was stumbling towards some dark, inevitable reckoning. Hoseok’s gaze followed me, a constant, unsettling presence as I fled the sanctuary.

I collapsed into the shadows behind the altar, my breath coming in ragged gasps that echoed through the oppressive silence of the church. The darkness around me felt like a living entity, wrapping itself around my chest and squeezing, threatening to suffocate me. Hoseok's eyes lingered in my mind, their haunting intensity a constant reminder of the sin and torment that had become my existence. The certainty of my spiraling downfall felt inescapable, and every breath I took seemed to deepen my dread.

The pews had emptied in an instant, leaving the room cloaked in a suffocating silence. My heart pounded as I watched Hoseok move toward me. The man before me was no longer the mortal guise he had once worn; his true form emerged, dark and unnervingly compelling. His eyes, once warm and inviting, now burned with a shadowed hunger that quickened my pulse with a mix of terror and something I couldn’t quite name.

“Y/N.” His voice, soft and reverent, seemed to carry a sacramental weight that sent an icy shiver down my spine. There was a truth hidden in those syllables, a meaning only he understood. As his nearness intensified, confusion and fear danced across my features. His calm, deliberate hand cradled my cheek, the touch both tender and overwhelming. The heat of my skin seemed to beckon to him, an invitation that terrified and enthralled me simultaneously.

"You're so lovely," he whispered, his voice a gentle murmur that barely masked the wild intensity in his eyes. His touch guided me backward with a grace that felt almost otherworldly. The church seemed to dissolve around us, melting away into a space that was unsettlingly familiar—a fragment of my life from New York. The red brick of the two-story house brought a strange, bittersweet comfort, like a fragment of a life I had once known. It calmed my racing heart with its eerie familiarity. He led me to the front door, his touch both comforting and possessive.

The lock yielded effortlessly, and as we crossed the threshold, the gravity of the situation settled like a stone in my stomach. The house, once a sanctuary of normalcy, now felt like a prison, its walls closing in with a menacing intimacy.

"So perfectly lovely," he murmured again as he closed the door behind us. I stumbled back, my nerves crackling with an unsettling energy. It wasn’t just fear anymore—it was something darker and more confusing. A part of me ached for normalcy, for escape, while another part was drawn to him with a desperate, confusing need. The line between terror and an inexplicable, forbidden desire blurred beyond recognition. I clung to the last shreds of my sanity, even as I felt myself unraveling under the weight of my own conflicted emotions.

"Why are we here?" I asked, my voice trembling with a mix of breathlessness and an unspoken longing. My heart pounded with a confusing blend of fear and desire. It was as if clarity had returned to me for a fleeting moment, yet I was still tethered to the confusion Hoseok had woven into my days. His promises of relief had begun to erode the pain, even as they wrapped around me like a vice. I remembered the dreams he'd planted in my mind, their seductive whispers blurring my sense of reality.

"I thought you might feel more at ease here," he said softly, his tone smooth and soothing as he followed me through the cluttered living room. Each backward step I took seemed to draw him closer, his presence an inescapable shadow. "Do you like it?"

I hesitated, glancing around at the artifacts of my past—family photos, treasured mementos, relics of a life that now felt so distant. The room was a museum of a future slipping away from me, and Hoseok's eyes seemed intent on taking it all. "Yes, I do," I whispered, barely able to meet his gaze. The room, once a sanctuary of normalcy, now felt like a stage for his dark play.

"I'd like a drink," I said, placing a hand over my racing heart. I clung to the pretense of normalcy, desperate to maintain some semblance of control. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, I felt a flicker of my old self. "Is there anything here? Surely you would... like one... as well."

Hoseok, having long since discarded any pretense of humanity, closed the distance between us with unsettling swiftness. His movements were almost too fluid, his presence too intense. His hands, warm and steady, framed my face with a possessive grace, his gaze fixed on the pulse in my neck, the rich, inviting blood beneath my skin.

"Oh, Y/N, my sweet, innocent little lamb." His voice, a velvety murmur, sent a shiver down my spine. His touch, trailing down to my neck, felt both magnetic and maddening. His eyes lingered on my flesh with a hunger that was almost palpable, a craving that seemed to consume him as much as it did me.

I trembled in his embrace, my conflicting desires mirrored in his touch. A soft moan escaped my lips, my breath warm and trembling with a heady mix of fear and desire. His smile widened, a predatory glint in his eyes as he encircled my waist, his touch moving possessively lower, tracing the curve of my hips and thighs. The tension between fight and flight heightened the charged atmosphere, leaving me both desperate and disoriented.

His eyes traced the flush of my lips, a reflection of the flush between my legs. The scent of my arousal mingled with my anxious heartbeat, a call to the beast inside him. His senses seemed overwhelmed by the promise of my warmth, the floral sweetness of my skin, and the earthy musk of my desire.

"You don't want... a drink?" I stammered, struggling to grasp the situation, to find a shred of reason amid the chaos of my emotions.

"Oh yes, Y/N. I very much desire a... drink." His smile was amused, his lips hovering just above mine. The taste of his breath, mingling with his tantalizing scent, sparked a deep, primal hunger within me. I was alive with all these unfulfilled needs, caught between an overwhelming desire and a paralyzing fear.

I inhaled shakily, my mind a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts. "What... would you like?" The question was a desperate plea for clarity, a tenuous grasp at the last vestiges of control in a world that had become a tumultuous blur of lust and dread.

A low laugh rumbled in Hoseok’s throat as he brushed his lips over mine, savoring the teasing trace of my flavor. "I want you, Y/N. I want to drink you." His honesty was laced with a raw, consuming need, a plea that mirrored the chaotic mix of longing and fear surging through me. It was clear he had no intention of letting me escape—not now. His tongue traced the corners of my mouth, and his body pressed against mine, making his heat seep through every layer of fabric that separated us.

I trembled, caught in a storm of conflicting emotions. The scents of my home—the cheap cotton sheets, synthetic pillows, and lingering traces of my perfume—led him with a haunting familiarity. He lifted me effortlessly, carrying me with a purposeful stride, and placed me gently at the foot of my bed. The moonlight offered only a weak shield against the encroaching darkness that seemed to swallow us whole.

My heart raced, feeling like a delicate butterfly trapped in a predatory web. As he dropped his coat to the floor and drew me into a deep kiss, my earlier uncertainty dissolved into a raw, electric need. Each touch of his fingers against my body made me shiver, a mix of anticipation and dread coiling tightly within me.

The bed was unmade, its disarray a silent testament to my disordered state. His scent lingered in the tangled sheets and blankets as he lowered me onto them. My sweat-dampened palms gripped his hair, my fingers exploring the nape of his neck and shoulders. The buttons on his shirt came undone beneath my trembling hands, my desire growing bolder despite the icy grip of fear that clenched at my chest. His groan as his teeth grazed my throat made me arch my hips, pressing closer, driven by a need I couldn't fully understand.

My clothes fell away under his hands, leaving me exposed and vulnerable. His eyes devoured every curve of my body, his gaze as palpable as his touch. His mouth descended on mine, hungry and insatiable, and I was enveloped by him, lost in a swirling tempest of our shared desire. His touch became a language, one that read my body with an intimate knowledge I was helpless to resist.

As he explored my secret places, my soft sighs turned into desperate pleas. His searing touch brought goosebumps to my skin, but I pressed closer, overwhelmed by the pleasure he was giving me. I was caught between wanting more and the creeping dread of losing myself entirely.

"Y/N," he groaned, his voice a dark promise. "I want to consume you." His words were a growl, a warning wrapped in seductive desire.

"Yes, I want you to. Do it. Take me," I panted, clutching at his shirt sleeve. My body spoke louder than words, arching upwards in desperate need. I knew I didn't fully understand what I was asking for, but the awareness was drowned out by the intensity of my longing.

His hands covered my breasts, his fingers finding my nipples. I gasped, pushing closer as his mouth found each tip, his low growl sending shivers through me. My heart raced beneath his lips, the rush of blood whispering of more delights to come. I arched again, my body twisting off the bed, craving more.

His mouth sucked at my nipple, his tongue flicking to heighten my pleasure. His thigh pressed between mine, the fabric of his jeans rasping over my nakedness, igniting a desperate heat. I moaned and bucked against him, my fingers digging into his arms as I convulsed beneath him, reaching the peak of my desire. The exhilaration of the moment was punctuated by the fear that clawed at the edges of my consciousness, a persistent reminder that I was teetering on the brink of something both irresistible and terrifying.

The climax left me gasping, trembling, caught in a whirlwind of confusion and overwhelming need. Each wave of pleasure only heightened my fear, and my body’s reaction seemed to betray my mind's desperate protests. His touch, relentless and insistent, found a rhythm that both seduced and terrified me. I cried out, unable to stop the sounds that escaped my lips, but a part of me wanted to resist.

I tried to pull away, my hand grasping his wrist with a frantic intensity. "What... what are you doing to me…?" My voice was a ragged whisper, trembling with a blend of confusion and fear.

He looked at me with a dark, hungry smile, his eyes alight with a dangerous fire. "Y/N, don’t lie to yourself," he said softly, his fingers curling in ways that made my body shudder. "You’re not overwhelmed. Your body is telling me you want this. You’re close to coming again. I can feel it."

My protests dissolved into incoherent moans as his touch stimulated a spot deep within me. The pleasure was a cruel paradox, blurring the line between ecstasy and dread. I could barely think, my mind clouded by the intensity of his actions.

"No, Hoseok, it’s too much," I whimpered, struggling to catch my breath. "I can’t..."

His mouth moved to mine, his lips teasing, his breath warm against my skin. "You’re a beautiful little liar," he murmured. "It’s not too much. You crave this. You know you do. Beg for it."

The force of his command broke through my haze of desire. "Please, Hoseok...," I gasped, my will crumbling under his dominance. My words felt like a betrayal, but I couldn’t stop myself from begging. "Please, just... take me."

His satisfaction was palpable, a dangerous hunger in his eyes. His touch grew more urgent, driving me to the brink of madness. I was lost in a maelstrom of sensation, my mind screaming to pull away, but my body’s response only seemed to draw him closer.

The moment of his thrust was jarring, a mix of pain and pleasure that overwhelmed me. My body reacted instinctively, my hips rising to meet him even as my mind struggled to grasp the reality of what was happening. The intense pleasure was intermingled with a profound fear, a dread of losing myself completely.

His movements were urgent, almost desperate, as though he were chasing an elusive climax. I was limp in his arms, my breathing ragged, torn between an unbearable desire and an escalating terror.

Despite my growing fear, I clung to him, my hands fumbling for some semblance of control. My kisses were desperate, seeking to anchor myself amidst the chaos. His touch was relentless, and every stroke seemed to heighten the conflict within me.

He pressed closer, his hands exploring with a possessive intensity. My body’s reactions were at odds with my thoughts, creating a tumultuous storm of sensation and fear. My mind raced, grappling with the realization of what was happening, but the pleasure was so consuming that it blurred the line between consent and coercion.

As the moment approached, I felt his breath on my neck, a chilling reminder of the danger that lurked beneath his seductive veneer. The final act was a blur, my fear mingling with an overwhelming rush of sensation.

I was a walking paradox—caught between heaven and hell, life and death, sin and redemption. His presence was a fiery furnace, consuming me with the heat of stolen life he had been deprived of for so long. My body clenched around him, a pulsating rhythm that seemed to drive him to the edge of his sanity. His pleasure was overwhelming, a torrent of sensations that painted the world in a chaotic blaze of colors.

“Hoseok, please…” I whispered, my voice a fragile breath against the overpowering cacophony of sensations. I wasn’t sure if my plea was for him to stop or to continue, a desperate cry from a place deep within me that I couldn’t fully comprehend. My fear was a gnawing presence, clawing at the edges of my desire, but the confusion of what I wanted and what I was willing to accept blurred together.

His eyes were dark with a twisted satisfaction as he sensed the last of my climax and my blood draining from me. The thought of taking me to the brink of death both exhilarated and haunted him. His grip tightened, and with a guttural snarl, he pulled away from my neck, his fangs retracting with a mixture of frustration and reluctant restraint. The rush of his thirst roared inside him, but he forced himself to temper his need.

I was an indulgence he wouldn’t be denied again, a forbidden pleasure he was determined to claim. He gently laid me back on the disheveled sheets, my heartbeat weak and fluttering. He licked the last drops of blood from my skin, his breath ragged and uneven. Each touch was deliberate, sealing the wounds with a final, lingering caress—a practical necessity for a demon who wanted to savor every part of me.

“Mine,” he growled, his voice a low, dark promise that vibrated through my core. “You are mine, Y/N. From now until death claims you, until I claim you.” His breath was warm and heavy against my face. My eyelids fluttered, barely able to focus, but his words penetrated my haze. “If any other man dares to touch you, I will tear him apart. Remember this, my beautiful little lamb. Remember who you belong to.”

“Hoseok,” I murmured, my voice a faint echo of surrender. His satisfaction was palpable, a twisted delight in my obedience and submission. He rose and slipped out of the room, leaving me tangled in sheets and blankets. From across the street, hidden in the shadows, he watched and listened, his gaze a persistent weight on my fragile state.

As dawn’s first light crept through the blinds, it painted the room in a sickly, eerie glow. I lay amidst the tangled sheets, each twist revealing new bruises and bite marks—a grotesque map of the night’s events etched into my skin. The aftermath was a haunting blend of pleasure and torment, an unsettling reminder of what had transpired.

Hoseok’s presence lingered in the room like a shadow that refused to lift. The darkness he brought with him clung to the corners, an inescapable reminder of the nightmare I had just lived through. My mind, once a storm of fear and confusion, now spun in a twisted acceptance—a deranged serenity that felt as liberating as it was unsettling.

The door creaked open like the groan of an old house settling into its own despair. Hoseok reappeared, his eyes still gleaming with that predatory glow, but now softened by an unsettling tenderness. He moved towards me with a deliberate grace, each step imbued with a dark reverence that made my heart pound with a blend of fear and reluctant desire.

“Y/N,” he whispered, his voice a low, seductive murmur that slithered across the room. “Do you understand now? You are mine, every inch of you.”

I looked up at him, my smile a grotesque reflection of the twisted contentment that had taken root in me. It was not a smile of joy or freedom but a shadowy acknowledgment of a reality I could no longer escape. My old life had withered into obscurity, replaced by the suffocating reality Hoseok had imposed upon me.

“Yes,” I breathed, the word barely escaping my lips. “I belong to you.”

The truth of my submission felt like a heavy, warm blanket, pressing down on me with an oppressive weight. Despite the enormity of what I had given up—my freedom, my chance to reclaim any semblance of my old life—there was an undeniable satisfaction in surrendering wholly to him. The pain and loss had twisted into a perverse form of fulfillment, filling the void in my chest with a dark semblance of love.

Hoseok’s smile widened, a dark curve that spoke of unyielding possession. He reached out, his hand caressing my cheek with a gentleness that clashed violently with the ferocity of his claim. The room seemed to close in around us, the air thick with a palpable tension, as if the very walls bore witness to my surrender.

“You will never leave me,” he murmured, his eyes locked onto mine with an unbreakable determination. “You are mine, forever.”

I nodded, the movement small and almost imperceptible, but it was enough. It was a surrender, a relinquishment of my will to the dark force that was Hoseok. He pulled me into his arms, and I felt my resolve melt away, my body becoming a canvas for his power, intermingling with the strange warmth of our shared connection.

As his darkness enveloped me, I felt a disturbing sense of belonging. In the shadows of the night, under his control, my fears and desires tangled together, creating a new reality that was both terrifying and intoxicating. In that moment, I understood there was no turning back. I was his, bound in body and soul by the twisted threads of fate and desire.

Hoseok’s eyes softened as he pulled me close, his cold skin a stark contrast to the feverish heat of my own body. His embrace was a strange sanctuary, a place where I felt both ensnared and cherished. My mind, once a battleground of conflicting emotions, had slipped into a state of blissful madness. In Hoseok’s dark embrace, I discovered a twisted joy that defied all rational thought.

“I’ve given you everything,” he murmured, his breath cold against my ear. “We are bound now, Y/N. Forever.”

His words were a chilling promise that resonated through the marrow of my bones, a haunting echo that left me trembling uncontrollably. I clung to him, my grip a mix of desperate need and profound terror, as a disturbing form of happiness took root in the darkest corners of my mind. The loss of my old life, the sacrifice of everything I had once held dear, seemed like a fevered dream compared to the unsettling contentment I felt in his arms.

As the first light of dawn filtered into the room, casting long, distorted shadows that twisted and writhed, I looked at Hoseok with a gaze that was both adoring and disturbingly fractured. The vibrant world I had once known had dissolved into a distant memory, replaced by a nightmarish existence defined by the twisted love and passion we shared. My heart swelled with a love so profound it overshadowed any lingering regret, even as my mind spiraled further into chaos.

Hoseok’s final words were a chilling promise wrapped in disturbing tenderness. “Remember, Y/N,” he whispered softly, his voice a ghostly caress in the dim light. “You are mine, in every sense—in your heart, in your mind, and in your soul.”

As the door creaked shut behind him, the morning light seeping in like a reluctant witness, I was left enveloped in the oppressive embrace of the darkness we had forged together. My smile, twisted and unnatural, reflected the bizarre, unsettling happiness I had found in the abyss. I was forever bound to the night, my soul tangled in the shadows of Hoseok’s dark desires.

The room seemed to breathe with the remnants of his presence, each corner cloaked in an oppressive stillness that mirrored the void he had filled within me. The silence was deafening, a stark contrast to the cacophony of fragmented thoughts that raged in my mind. Now, there was only the echo of his words, the haunting promise of a future forever intertwined with his darkness.

I lay there, wrapped in the aftermath of our twisted union, my body marked by the evidence of his possession. Each bruise, each bite mark was a grotesque map of the new life I had been forced into. The pain was now a distant echo, overshadowed by the profound and disturbing contentment that gnawed at my chest—a contentment born of both surrender and madness.

As the minutes ticked by and the morning light grew stronger, I found myself replaying his final words in my mind, my thoughts fracturing with each repetition. “You are mine, in every sense—in your heart, in your mind, and in your soul.” The truth of those words reverberated through me like a haunting mantra, a binding contract signed with my very essence, even as my grip on reality slipped further away.

There was no turning back, no reclaiming the life I had once known. I was irrevocably his, a willing participant in the dark dance we had begun. The thought brought a grotesque smile to my lips, a smile that spoke of a happiness found in the shadows, a contentment born of surrender and madness.

At least, I wanted to believe it was madness alone that made me forget how afraid I was.

October 31, 2024

The house had become an enigmatic beast, its former guise of normalcy utterly transformed. From the street, it looked like any other home—silent and shadowy against the midnight sky. But within its walls, it was something else entirely. The shutters were clamped shut, keeping out any unwelcome glimmers of daylight. The curtains, heavy with dust, obscured the outside world, making everything inside a surreal, dreamlike blur.

Within this labyrinth of darkness, the house seemed like a twisted echo of a familiar nightmare. The air was thick with the mingling scents of old incense and stale dreams, creating a heavy, almost intoxicating atmosphere. Flickering candlelight cast eerie, jittery shadows that danced and twisted, as if mocking my attempts at normalcy. Silence pressed down on me, almost alive in its oppressive weight.

Days blurred into one another, each indistinguishable from the next in a fog of disorientation. Hoseok’s routines had become my own, though I couldn’t quite remember how or when they had taken over. My existence revolved around small tasks—cooking, cleaning, and performing acts of devotion—that had evolved into a kind of ritualistic pattern. It was as though each action was a silent offering to the enigmatic darkness that had enveloped our lives.

When I glanced in the mirror, the person staring back was a ghostly apparition of my former self. My face, serene to the point of being unsettling, bore a look of eerie contentment. I was a wraith, drifting through my days with a confusing mix of dread and satisfaction.

As night fell, the house came alive with an almost palpable energy. Hoseok’s presence was overwhelming, filling the space with his dark, commanding aura. His arrival was always marked by the ritualistic locking of doors, a subtle reminder of his control. The sensations of pleasure and pain that accompanied his touch had become a surreal symphony, a haunting reminder of the path I had chosen.

One particularly cold night, as the moonlight filtered through the grime-covered windows, Hoseok and I stood together, looking out into the void. The world outside was a distant blur, an irrelevant expanse that felt disconnected from my reality. The sky stretched above us, a vast, unyielding black, reflecting the emptiness of my existence. We were bound together by something primal and deep, though its true nature remained elusive.

Time inside these walls seemed to warp and distort. The house, once a symbol of normalcy, had turned into a crypt of our peculiar existence. The outside world had faded into obscurity, replaced by the certainty of Hoseok’s presence. I had found a strange form of happiness in this eternal night, where the terror of the outside world had been replaced by the dark, enveloping comfort of Hoseok’s embrace.

As I settled into my favorite worn leather chair, the house seemed to pulse with anticipation for Hoseok’s return. My knitting supplies were spread around me, with a scarf for Hoseok in progress. I hummed softly, my heart beating with a sense of calm and eager expectancy, as if I were awaiting a beloved dream to resume.

I replayed our last conversation in my mind, Hoseok’s words lingering like a haunting melody. “An old friend is coming for a visit,” he’d said, a hint of mischief in his voice. “She’s good at dealing with werewolves.”

I couldn’t suppress a bubbling laugh, the sound rising unbidden. “Isn’t she the one Namjoon’s obsessed with?”

His kiss on my temple had been darkly tender, sending shivers of pleasure through me. “Clever girl. It will be fun.”

I teased him playfully. “Don’t cause too much trouble.”

His laughter resonated through me, sending a thrill down my spine. “When have I ever been nice, lamb?”

“Nice to me,” I’d replied, pressing a kiss to his lips. “Very, very nice.”

Settling back into the leather chair, the hearth’s flickering light casting long, shifting shadows, I resumed my knitting with a serene focus. Each stitch felt like a small act of devotion, a testament to my growing obsession. I hummed softly, my heart a silent witness to the peace I had found in this twisted, eternal night. The lines between fear and love, sanity and madness, had merged into a strange, intoxicating tapestry that I no longer fully understood.

Hoseok said I was perfect. His praise was a balm to my disoriented soul.

I smiled, pushing away any lingering doubts about my sanity. I was fine. I was perfect.

Pager Codes:

110 307 - Go To Bar

209 - On My Way

08 - OK

420 - You’re in trouble

3011 - Be Careful

221 - Where are you?

419 - I don’t understand

100 - Come Back

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jungshookz · 9 months ago

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yoongi's getting a lot of attention at the mall and y/n doesn't like it very much

➺ pairing; demon!yoongi x y/n

➺ genre; all of the usual demon!yoongi antics & a little more :-)

➺ wordcount; 1.8k

»»————- 🥨 ————-««

something is… off.

you can’t quite put your finger on it, but something is off and you can quite literally feel it in the air

“do you think navy blue washes me out?” jungkook holds a shirt up to show you before pursing his lips, waving his hand in your face when he doesn’t get a response from you, “helloooo-“ you guys came to the mall today to do some shopping but for the last ten minutes you’ve been distracted by something which isn’t helpful to jungkook because he values your opinion when it comes to his style!

“you look great in navy blue and that’s a good shirt for summer, linen is a great material-“ you hold a finger up, turning your head slightly, “do you hear giggling?”

jungkook frowns, shaking his head slightly before looking in the same direction you are, “…no. i just hear generic pop music coming out of a set of shitty speakers- hey, do you think these stores play these songs on purpose so that you’ll shop faster and leave faster?”

“uh-huh, gimme a sec, kook-“ you poke your tongue against the inside of your cheek before spinning around to face the exit, “where did you say yoongi went?”

“oh! he went to get some pretzel bites, i think.”

you weave in between the racks of clothes smoothly, your

your nose twitches as you pick up on the faint scent of yoongi’s cologne and cinnamon sugar (your favourite flavour for pretzel bites, of course) and you step out of the store, your eyes narrowing in suspicion when you spot yoongi heading in your direction

the black button-down he's got on hangs nicely on his frame and as he reaches up with his free hand to push his dark hair back, head tilting as a lopsided smirk makes its way onto his face when he spots you, “did you miss me so much that you had to come out and greet me? i was only gone for like ten minutes.”

you don’t respond, getting up on your tip toes to look over his shoulder only to notice that almost everyone is looking at yoongi, people pausing in the middle of what they’re doing to stare at him with lidded eyes and flushed cheeks

“what the hell…?” you don’t know how yoongi hasn’t noticed the fact that he has people drooling over him, and your face scrunches slightly when you see someone cross her legs and suck her bottom lip into her mouth as she stares at the back of yoongi’s head, “get a room-“

has it always been this bad???

how have you never noticed this???

maybe the reason why you never noticed all these things before is because you just had regular old human capabilities, but ever since you’ve been blessed (or cursed, however you want to see it) with some demonic abilities you’ve noticed a few things have changed about yourself: you can literally float (though, it only lasts a few seconds before gravity takes over), your eyes flicker black whenever you’re really upset, and all of your senses have heightened significantly — like today, you could hear the familiar purr of jungkook’s car from two miles away and he was more than surprised to see that he didn’t have to text you to get you and yoongi to come down like he usually does (you still haven’t broken the news to him that both you and yoongi are… not human, but you’ll get to it eventually)

“what’s wrong?” yoongi frowns, turning to glance over his shoulder, “what are you looking at?”

“people are… looking at you.” your jaw clenches slightly when another girl walks past the two of you, your ears picking up on the sound of blood rushing to her cheeks and her heart skipping a beat, “people are like- like, really looking at you.”

now, you’d like to clear things up and say that you’re not worried about yoongi running off to someone else because you know that yoongi loves you and also the two of you are literally bonded by blood or whatever — you know that yoongi is very attractive and most of the time you’re happy to walk around with him and have him admired by strangers but this is too much

this is like- well, to be honest, it looks like people are just about ready to pounce on yoongi at any given moment and now you feel like you need to defend him

in fact you’re pretty sure you heard someone growl at some point so now you’re wondering if the keys in your purse are going to work as a sufficient tool to ward people away

“of course they’re looking at me.” yoongi snorts, finding it amusing how flustered you’re starting to get, “they… i mean, not to toot my own horn here, baby, but i’m not lying when i say that everyone in this mall wants me to fuck the shit out of them, that’s kinda my whole thing, which, in my defense, you knew when we got together-" his eyebrows raise slightly when you whip your head back around to look at him, your eyebrows set in a glare as your eyes flicker black for a second

oh.

(he likes that.)

“well, i don’t like it.” you grumble, and yoongi knows you must be really upset because you haven’t attacked the cup of fresh pretzels he has in his hand and usually you’ve already popped like eight of them in your mouth

“you’re cute when you’re jealous. and you know i only have eyes for you, you’re being silly-” yoongi smiles, reaching down to pinch your chin in between his thumb and pointer finger to turn your head towards him, “hey, look at me- what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?”

“what’s going on-“ you smack his hand away (yoongi’s demonic charm isn’t as strong now that you’re not entirely human) “is that i think we should buy whatever we need and then go home before everyone starts chasing after you-“

“you know, there is a way to offset the pheromones, or, whatever you wanna call it.” yoongi kisses his teeth, tossing a pretzel up into the air and catching it with his mouth as he chews thoughtfully, “i don’t evphen know what it is. my aura? i don’t know. whatehver demon thing is happening-“ he swallows, “i usually just have to fuck someone. then it takes like thirty minutes before the pheromones come back and everyone’s pining after me again.”

there’s a brief moment of silence between the two of you and the corner of yoongi’s mouth twitches in a smirk when he notices your throat bob as you swallow

“…that’s really the only solution?” you ask suspiciously, “because you got a paper cut last week and you said your body will heal itself faster if you go down on me, which i’m still struggling to see the connection-“

“well that was very obviously a lie, y/n, i just wanted to bury my face in between your legs and you were like, too busy writing a paper but it makes sense in this case, doesn’t it? get some good sex outta my system and people won’t pay as much attention to me because the tension inside of me has been released.”

“hm. i… guess you have a point. and you swear people will stop for a little while if you have sex?”

“pinky promise. but, you know, we don’t have to do anything if you don’t want me bending you over in the dressing room. i know you like having privac-“ yoongi stops halfway through his sentence, his own eyebrows furrowing when he picks up on the fact that there’s a group of guys checking you out and almost instantly he feels jealousy swirling in his system

“-nice ass.”

he catches the end of a sentence and his eyes darken as he loops an arm around your waist and tugs you towards him, making direct eye contact with the group, “yeah, and you’re never gonna get your grimy fucking hands on it, you freaks-!” he calls out, and you don’t get much of a chance to say or do anything else before he’s dragging you down the opposite direction, setting the cup of pretzels down atop the garbage bin

“hey- where are we going?? jungkook’s still in the- okay, well, i don’t see why we had to abandon the pretzels, but fine-“

“what do you think? we’re finding a washroom and i’m fucking the shit out of you-"

“see, this is exactly what i was talking about!” you let out a laugh of disbelief at yoongi’s shift in mood as you let him drag you towards the washrooms, “and you had the gall to make fun of me for feeling some type of way about other people staring at you!”

»»————- 🥨 ————-««

(“oh, fuck- fuck me, fuck me-“ you whimper, head dipping as you grip onto both sides of the ceramic sink, your eyelids fluttering shut as yoongi slides a hand from your lower back up before grasping the back of your neck, shoving you downwards as he continues thrusting, very much enjoying the view of your ass bouncing off of him at this angle

“good girl- so fucking good for me, always so good-“ he growls, sweat glistening off his brow bone as he tangles his fingers in your hair, grabbing a fistful before yanking you back up to press your back against his chest, the back of your head slotting against the crook of his neck, “nuh-uh, i want you to watch me fuck you-“

your eyes immediately flicker down and you make eye contact with him in the mirror, your cheeks flushed and lips slick and swollen and god you look hot-

“you- you swear this is gonna- gonna work-" your eyebrows crinkle together as you let out a particularly high moan when yoongi’s hand slides down in between your legs, the tips of his fingers pressing into your sensitive clit

“of course it’s gonna work, my girl.” he grunts, flashing you a boyish grin in the mirror, “don’t you trust me?”)

🎙️ ask y/n and yoongi if they had a good time (talk to my characters!)

📚 why not explore the rest of the library while you're here? (go say hi to yoongi and y/n in la vie en bonsai!)

💫 or perhaps you want something shorter to read? (drabbles and mini series!)

🌟 or something even shorter? (teeny tidbits like this!)

#teeny tidbits #demon!yoongi #demon!yoongi drabbles #yoongi drabbles #min yoongi drabbles #yoongi smut #yoongi fluff #bts fics #bts fic recs #yoongi fics #yoongi fic recs #bts author recs #bts writer recs #min yoongi #yoongi #yoongi bts #yoongi fluff recs #yoongi smut recs

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hyog-blog · 1 month ago

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God bless whoever took these photos :D Having HMH walking around bare-chested like that, well, I can only imagine what the staff was going through, heh))) Pretty pretty Great Demon.

#we could've had it all #but alas the censorship #Guo Jingming clearly knew what he was doing #there must exist a queer AF folder on someone's laptop with the backstage footage #photos and videos and the likes)))#that would make even the straightest men drool ahah)))#fangs of fortune #fangs of fortune bts #hou minghao #neo hou #he really is the Great Demon

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colormepurplex2 · 8 months ago

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The Demon Is In The Details | PJM

▻ The Demon Is In The Details ↳ Demon!Jimin x f.Reader ⤜ Crossroads AU ⤜ Accidental Soul Deal, Enthrallment, Strangers to Lovers | angst, smut ⤜ Rating: MA ⤜ WC: 17,121 ⤜ Summary: It was a terrible idea—letting your friend bury that box at the crossroads. She claimed it was just for fun, but in the end, you were the one faced with paying the ultimate price. The devil—or in this case, demon—is in the details, so be sure to read between the lines, or you just might lose your soul. ⚠️ Crass language, demon summoning, talk of blood, soul sucking, dick piercing, cock sucking, kissing, biting, mild nipple play/biting/there is blood involved, blood drinking, face fucking, hair pulling, mild choking, body worship, enthrallment/instant infatuation, begging, vaginal sex, creampie, cum play/eating, insatiable lust, lost soul, demon metamorphosis, jealousy Each chapter will have specific warnings listed as they’re posted.

Chapter 1: It's Just A Box

Chapter 2: Sweet, Sweet Soul

Epilogue: Red Eyes, Green Heart

This story is complete.

A/N: Written as part of the @bangtanwritershq Seven Deadly Sins Second Quarter writing event! ↳ Sloth: Crossroad Demon AU ⟡ Supernatural ⟡ Strangers To Lovers ⟡ Bargain and Contracts ⟡ Explicit Sexual Content

A/N: A special thank you to @hisunshiine @downbad4yoongi and @lo1k-diamonds for their unfailing beta services!

Can also be found on: Ao3 | Wattpad

◅ Back to Main Master List ©️ 2024-06 ColorMePurplex2

#jimin x reader #bts jimin #park jimin #jimin imagines #jimin smut #jimin angst #demon jimin #jimin fanfic #jimin x you #bts smut #paranormal romance #bangtanwhq #btscreaturescoven

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fuckyeahgoodomens · 9 months ago

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Good Omens 3 update 👀

(David Tennant was at a con in Germany today)

and about Michael's new play :) <3

#good omens #gos3 #season 3 #david tennant #angels demons and doctors 2024 #crowley's costumes #crowley in a skirt #s3 final scene #bts #fun fact

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bangtans-momma · 2 months ago

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Bully Me

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Pairing: Jungkook x Curvy Bully oc

Word Count: 12.7k words (sorry it’s so long again!)

Genre: Bully, BTS AU, One Shot, Smut, Yandere, Non Consensual, Cult, Demonic, Supernatural, Curvy Girl, Original Character.

Rating: 18+ MATURE. Smut, Adult Themes, Non Consensual, violence, death and gore, hard swearing.

Description:

Jeon Jungkook’s bully is an older woman called Dria, she trips him over, laughs at him and she’s always humiliating him and calling him horrible names. The thing is, Jungkook likes it just a bit too much because when she does it she’s giving him attention. He likes what she does and regularly runs off to the bathrooms or his apartment to relieve himself.

To everyone else Jungkook is a quiet studious student with only two friends, Jimin and Taehyung. But when he’s not at college he’s someone else entirely, too bad that Dria realised it just a little bit too late.

Content And Triggers:

BTS AU, College Setting, Yandere Jungkook, Sadomasochistic Jungkook, Stalker Jungkook, Demon Jungkook, Switch Jungkook, Deviant Jungkook, Bitch OC, Bully OC, Bratty Rich OC, Switch OC, Curvy OC, Older OC, Bullying, Violence Towards Jungkook, Jungkook is obsessed, Forced Marriage, Arranged Marriage, Satanic Cult, BTS Demons, Rituals, Virgin Sacrifice, Supernatural powers, Possession Of Someone, Mention Of Gore, Use Of Knife, Death of Minor Character’s, Swearing, Smoking, Blood Kink (Drinking Blood), Drugging With Substance, Mind Control, Evasive Thoughts Projected Into Head (Oral, Use Of Strap On, Fisting), Non Consensual, Dubious Consent After Corruption, Smut, Stalking, Dirty Talk, Masturbating (M), Exhibitionism, Ritual Sex, Use Of Supernatural Powers, Choking, Spiting, No Protection, Breeding Kink, Forced Pregnancy, Raw Sex, Squirting, Oral Sex (F), Face Sitting, Anal play, Marking, Hair Pulling, Biting, Hickies, Use Of Mommy and Puppy In Fantasy, Degradation, Forced Public Sex. Corruption Kink (Corruption Of Soul).

Author’s Notes:

WARNING ⚠️🔞

Hope I have written down all the TW’s this is yandere AND non consensual through mind control. Please read the warning!

🔞NO MINORS ON THE BLOG PLEASE, THiS STORY HAS ADULT THEMES.

Tried to take away too many descriptive appearance words, it’s hard to not describe anything about someone when I’m used to visualising someone ha ha. But I tried to not describe hair or eye colour on FMC, so no hair colour of eye colour. So you can imagine her as you want. She is a Curvy reader though and I have to represent us curvy girls too. So she is mentioned as being curvy and her body is mentioned.

I do not own BTS or their likeness. This is only fan fiction that comes from my own imagination and any depiction of BTS in any of my stories does not represent them in real life. None of this is real life, only pure fiction. None of the behaviour of the BTS member’s namesakes OR anything else that happens in my stories represents them in reality. Picture is part AI, part mine as I added and changed things to it, like the eyes being black, more like Jungkook, the background and made the wings more messy etc.

MASTERLIST: here

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Bully me.

Jungkook is laid on his bed tugging at himself as precum leaks from his swollen tip, groaning as he covered himself in a layer of filthy cum and sweat. He just can’t stop himself as he thinks of her, his bully, Dria. She turned up here last year and is one of the older students at age twenty five, he is twenty two.

Those sexy curves, her full breasts and her beautiful natural plump pout. Her long luscious hair that stops at her thick ass and her stunning piercing eyes.

He just knows her thighs are thick and juicy too, he can’t wait to mark them. She always wears fitted clothes and those stiletto high heels that he wished she would press against his hard length.

The way she sneers his name and chucks things at him, how she laughed at him when he dropped all his books after she shoulder checked him. And how she called him puppy earlier and sniggered when she realised that he was rock hard in his trousers because of her.

The harsh tug of his hair as she looked down at his hard erection with a wicked grin was like wet dream fuel for him. Jungkook can’t help thinking that she is an evil bratty bitch, but he likes that as he knows her real thoughts.

“Aww Puppy! Are you hard because I just humiliated you? Fucking pathetic little thing aren’t you?”

She had taunted him as she squeezed at his hard length, digging her nails in as she yanked spitefully at his dark hair, hurting him so damn good. Before finally spitting on his face and watching as it dripped down landing right by his lips.

Her worried eyes widened like she only just realised what she just did to him and Dria abruptly let him go before turning to leave immediately with widened disturbed eyes.

She does that a lot, it’s like she suddenly realises just how far she keeps going with her bullying. It’s been getting worse as It has been turning out to be increasingly sexual lately. Jungkook knows that the very thought of her own behaviour scares her.

Not that he cares as he would gladly bury his face in her wetness if she told him to get to his knees and pleasure her whilst spitefully pulling his hair.

He stared at her with sinister hungry orbs as she waltzed off cackling at him like she wasn’t just shocked by her own deviant behaviour, his length was twitching violently in his black slacks at her sinful actions. Her curvy hips swaying as she walks off looking divine in her tight dress, her spank worthy ass looking exquisite.

Smirking like a deviant himself, he licked the spit off his lips with a lewd obscene groan as he threw his head back.

This one interaction would usually give Jungkook enough spank bank material for weeks. But he needs more, much more, he has to have more because he’s been waiting so long for her to be his.

Because he has been saving himself for her and only her. She is going to be his soon. . very soon.

He’s unhealthily obsessed with his bully and can’t wait to get his hands on her plump ass and slap it. Dig his fingers into her voluptuous flesh around her stomach and bite at her chubby cheeks.

Jungkook wants to wrap his hand around her pretty neck and bury himself in her and never leave. His tugs get faster as he thinks of the older woman and how perfect she would feel wrapped around him.

How good he would feel filling her up and breeding her like the good little Mommy she is. She’s going to be the Mommy of his child, so tonight he’s calling her Mommy like the pathetic little puppy she thinks he is. But he’s anything but a puppy, he’s an apex predator, a nightmarish predator. Shame she won’t find out until it’s way too late for her to do anything about it.

“M-Mommy, so good”

Jungkook sinfully whines, thrusting his hips up into his hand with his eyes closed thinking of her. Using the copious amounts of cum from his messy stomach as lube.

“Fuck, just like that Mommy. . . yesss ahh!”

He hisses whimpering as he ejaculates all over his tensed tattooed abs, his teeth biting into his bottom lip.

“Such a dirty slut Mommy, I’m gonna fuck my babies into you and make you mine. Not long now my precious, I’ve seen to it. Mine forever”

Jungkook pants and finally collapses onto his bed with a malevolent grin on his face as his messy hands grab a cigarette and he lights it with his zippo lighter.

Inhaling the smoke harshly he lays there contented and covered in his own filth, as he finally feels satiated after jerking off four times. Grabbing his phone he clicks on the app and checks on the cameras inside of his obsessions home.

“Hmm she’s having a shower, fuck! Look at that ass, can’t wait to sink my teeth into that soft juicy skin. Fill it up with my cum until it’s leaking everywhere. So perfect for me”

He lewdly groans watching her with his twisted onyx orbs that fool so many with their doe eyed innocence in public.

His phone rings showing his father’s name, a wicked smirk climbs on his face as he answers.

“Hi Father”

Jungkook replies, sounding relieved to hear from him, he was going to call him anyway as he’s getting so fixated on having her that he’s starting to feel bitterly impatient.

“Hello son, how are you?”

His father replied with the same sort of tone, sounding relieved that he had answered him right away.

“I’m absolutely perfect, father. Have you got what I wanted sorted out yet? I have been waiting rather patiently”

He demands, sounding like a spoiled child. Even though he’s anything but a child.

“Of course I did, my son. Her parents were most agreeable when he gave them a deal. But her greedy parents were worried she might sabotage it”

His father sniggers and Jungkook can feel himself getting hard again when the thoughts of finally having her invade his fixated mind.

“Don’t worry, there is nothing she can do to sabotage it, father. No matter what she does, it won’t deter me in the slightest. I should thank you for helping me so quickly. When is it?”

Jungkook asks with a sinister grin taking another drag of his cigarette as he lays there still covered in his own filth.

“It’s all set for Sunday, so four days”

A malevolent grin grows on his face as she’s going to feel his unholy deviance as soon as Sunday night comes.

“Can’t wait, thank you Father”

Jungkook replies sounding childish in his own head, but all he can think about is his thick length twitching as depraved thoughts of her consumed him again.

“Anything for you son, I remember how hard it was to get your mother. I had to threaten her parents at first. It’s okay though, sometimes they need a tiny persuasive nudge. That’s why I ended up contacting our father, I didn’t care as long as I got your mother. Of course the price was you and that I became his vessel when needed, but I don’t regret it. So when are you coming back to the village? The earlier the better I think son, maybe get here Friday as we need to do the necessary traditions first. I’m glad you found your chosen one. I was a bit sceptical of you going to college to find your chosen one at first, but it’s all worked out. Do you have the small thing ready that you have to bring?”

His father chuckles in amusement.

“Of course Father, I know it has to be something you will miss so it’s gonna be my girlfriend Minji. A relationship of three years should be a good one right? This is exactly what I cultivated the entire relationship for”

Jungkook nonchalantly speaks and his father cruelly laughs at his reply.

“Good idea Jungkook, I always thought she was too pure and shy for you. Too skinny and mousy to produce a Jeon heir. I seriously thought she was going to be your chosen. You had us all worried for a second there. Jimin’s description of her was very telling. I hope this other girl is more compatible to be your chosen one”

His father sniggers spitefully when talking about his pathetic girlfriend.

“She’s something I passed the time with, got a perfect mouth, but I left her purity intact on purpose. I picked her because she wanted to wait until marriage. I wouldn’t have ever gone near her otherwise, it’s been a bit exhausting to play the good boyfriend for three years, but it was needed. Dria is perfect for me, you will see. She will be easy to corrupt”

Jungkook smirks cruelly as his father starts laughing maniacally.

“Oh he will love that! Yes I can imagine how vexed you were to entertain that, son. Can’t wait to see your chosen one”

Jungkook’s father says enthusiastically.

“See you on friday night Father, I have to go clean up”

Jungkook tells him, stubbing his cigarette out in the ashtray.

“Goodbye son, see you Friday”

Jungkook puts the phone on the bed and sighs looking at his rigid erection.

“One more time won’t hurt, I just can’t help it when I think of my chosen one”

Jungkook grunts tugging at his sensitive shaft, his length is always insatiable for her.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Jungkook is leaving for his village tonight, Jimin and Taehyung are of course coming back with him as his underlings. His stupid idiot of a girlfriend is coming too, stupid naive bitch thinks she is going to meet his parents. She is meeting them, but not in the way she thinks. Jungkook can only think of Dria and how good she’s going to feel wrapped around his starving shaft, he’s ravenous at this point.

He’s on his way to get some food in the cafeteria and he comes across Dria who smirks maliciously when she sees him.

Jungkook tries to school the pure glee on his face when she yanks at his hair and pulls his face to hers. He can’t help going hard already as she goes to spit onto his face again. An idea pops into Jungkook’s mind as he smirks to himself thinking about how she just gave him an idea to completely stop any sabotage from her.

He yanks her to him by her hair, biting her lip harsh enough to draw blood, he starts sucking at it harshly, swallowing some of her life essence groaning.

Jungkook bites down on his tongue, sucking hard to fill his mouth with blood.

Before plunging his tongue in her mouth, transferring loads of it into her mouth as his tongue bleeds profusely. Knowing that when it comes down to it she will never be able to disobey him.

She finally pulls him away from her mouth by his hair in mock disgust, he flashes her a disturbing grin, a blood splattered grin with macabre blood stained teeth. She looks like she is going to spit it out so he intervenes.

“Tsk! Don’t be a bad girl for me. Fucking swallow it”

Jungkook menacingly growls, yanking her head back and pinching his fingers over her nose and covering her mouth with his palm so she has no choice.

She tries to deter him by digging her fingernails in his arm and slapping him, but nothing moves him at all, he’s like a steel wall. Her wide eyes look frantic when she realises that she has no choice but to ingest his blood.

Dria gulps it down panicking and starts to struggle harshly grabbing at his hair again, she flails about but Jungkook is inhumanly strong. As soon as she sucks against his hand trying to desperately get air he finally moves his hand from her mouth. She gasps in air, then gags as Jungkook cruelly sniggers at her.

“Good girl”

He mocks her with a sinister smile as she stares up at him in disbelief.

“You fucking freak! Gross!”

Dria screams at him wiping her mouth, letting go of his hair and running off to the female toilets.

He can hear her thoughts, she’s not disgusted by the blood, she’s disgusted at herself for liking what he just did to her. He giggles like a psycho as she storms off.

“Hmm, fucking delicious. Can’t wait to see her face on Sunday. But you are not throwing that up, STOP”

Jungkook groans with excitement as he watches her sexy retreating figure, he clicks his fingers and she stutters then carries on walking. His grin is maniacal when he realises that his plan is working already.

He knows that if he doesn’t get a release now he will be hard for hours thinking about her sweet bloody lips and how delicious the sweet iron tinged blood tasted on his starved tongue. So he goes to the male bathroom muttering to himself about her as he thinks about destroying her little pussy.

He already feels her lifeforce coursing through his body after drinking her blood and it’s exciting him as he starts to put macabre disturbing thoughts into his chosen ones head. Thoughts of her drinking his blood and licking it off Jungkook’s body, he makes her orgasm hard in the vision, just to torment her even more.

He sniggers as he imagines her being both disturbed and turned on by these visions and later on her dreams. She’s just as much of a deviant as he is and she tries so very hard to deny herself of the truth about her lustful feelings.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Jungkook is in a car with Jimin, Taehyung and Minji driving to his village.

It’s currently seven thirty pm and he’s feeling so happy that he’s going to get his chosen one in just a few days. His whole act with Minji and others at college can finally drop as soon as they are home. Although he won’t be going back there anyway, he’s already finished and completed his final papers and coursework anyway.

Taehyung smirks with a sinister glint in his eyes as he glances back at Jungkook, he gives him a wicked wink as they drive down the long private road to the isolated village. The vibe in the car has changed and Minji nervously bites at her lip with a frown growing on her face.

Minji comments how remote it is out here and Jimin sniggers saying they need it that way for privacy. Making Jungkook and Taehyung chuckle with matching malevolent expressions. Minji suddenly shifts in her seat, feeling very uncomfortable for the first time on the trip, goosebumps climbing up her panicked body.

As soon as they get to the secure gated community Minji doesn’t look so well anymore and is slightly pale. What did he mean by the way he said private, it had a sinister undertone. The security guards are all so gleeful to welcome Jungkook back, they all call him Master and tell him they are looking forward to the unholy union.

Jungkook thanks them with a monstrous looking smile and Minji’s heart speeds up thinking that she has made a grave mistake coming here. But why wouldn’t she trust Jungkook, he’s been nothing but a gentleman. The very fact that there are security guards and a very high fence with razor wire around this village has alarm bells ringing in her head.

Jungkook is greeted at a huge mansion by an older female who is in her late thirties or she just looks very young. And a man who looks like he is around fifty, maybe sixty. The woman is definitely his mother as they have the same face shape and the same kind of nose. But the father is about five inches shorter than Jungkook and there are no signs of them being related at all, maybe he’s a step dad.

“Son! We are so glad to welcome you home, we are so proud that you found your chosen one. I can’t believe that you finally found the one. She will be here tomorrow, her parents are bringing her for the ceremony. They both agreed to the union”

The woman who is Jungkook’s mother declares with a manic looking grin on her lips.

Minji feels a little comforted when they mention the chosen one as she must be the chosen one they are talking about. The word chosen is weirding her out but she’s happy that they accept her.

That is until they tell him that she will be here with her parents tomorrow for the ceremony, she now thinks they are talking about an arranged marriage. One that doesn’t involve her.

Why is she here then? She thinks to herself, as tears start stinging her eyes.

She realises that he’s having an arranged marriage and he thinks that she’s going to be content to be some pathetic mistress. Minji is really hurt that Jungkook never told her that he would have to be in an arranged marriage. She wants to go home right now.

“NAMJOON!”

The father yelled out abruptly with a stern expression that scared a dazed Minji out of her internal panic and a man came so abruptly that it’s like he almost appeared out of nowhere.

“Take the blood sacrifice to the cells, protect her as she is pure and not to be touched. She is for our father”

As soon as he points at Minji she starts hyperventilating and looks at Jungkook with an expression of utter betrayal.

“J-Jungkook! What. . no! Please don’t! Wh-What is going on? No!!”

Minji pleads now sobbing as Namjoon grips her arm harshly and actually teleports away with her. He just stares at her like she disgusts him.

She’s pleading with Namjoon to help her, who glares at her with pure black orbs growling at her. She also can’t forget that sinister glare on Jungkook’s face as she got dragged away. He was cold as ice as he sneered at her in complete disgust.

Minji is so terrified that she faints as he puts her in a dark concrete floored cell, placing her on the floor.

Jungkook is currently laughing and joking with his mother and surrogate father, his real father isn’t even in this realm. . . yet. They snigger about how utterly pathetic Minji is and how his father will love the blood of his virgin sacrifice.

Jimin comments that he can’t wait to see Dria’s face when she realises she is meeting Jungkook here for marriage.

Jungkook laughs maniacally as he tells them that he transferred blood earlier so she can’t do anything but obey him.

They all delve into loud maniacal laughter, finding the very thought of her being unable to resist hilarious.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Dria is extremely irritated today as her parents threatened to cut her off for good if she didn’t meet this man who gave them an extremely good marriage offer. They are being so pushy about it.

She smirks as she sits in the back of their car, she knows that she will sabotage it exactly like she did to the other twenty one men that they tried to marry her off to.

Her parents are not going to get her to marry some rich douchebag in an unloving arranged marriage. Most of those men tried to sleep with her and although she’s not a virgin, she’s also not sexually experienced either. One actually tried to assault her and put his hand up her skirt to touch her panties whilst eating at a restaurant.

She is feeling so tired today, her catch up nap earlier was interrupted by nightmares numerous times and she doesn’t know why. Dria wonders if the incident in the hallway with Jungkook earlier freaked her mind out. The dreams were monstrous, macabre and explicitly deviant. Blood, sexual depravity and gore filled her dreams.

She doesn’t know where these horrific monsters in her dreams came from but the violent version of Jungkook with the harsh voice was prominent, but it’s all she dreamed about, Jungkook and demonic looking creatures.

One dream had four versions of Jungkook all having sex with her at once and she felt overwhelmed as they all filled her holes whilst the forth one choked her and savagely assaulted her breasts. Biting spitefully around her areola with his sharp canines and making blood drip down her torso.

Her parents have never been this annoyed and aggressive towards her though, but they were absolutely insistent on the marriage arrangement this time. Maybe it’s someone with loads of money, influence and power, so they don’t want to aggravate the affluent family. Dria wonders where the hell they are going as they get further and further out into the remote countryside.

A little chill invades her body the nearer they get to this place, Dria wonders why.

She shifts in the back of her parents car as they drive on a long winding country road that has zero turn offs or street lights on it. She almost wonders if they are lost as it’s actually out in the middle of nowhere.

A few private property signs were spotted by her along the way too. And others were warning about trespassing, with a warning saying that there are security, electric fences and guard dogs in the area. It’s very isolated here. Her parents seem to know where they are going though and don’t seem that worried about the situation.

As soon as she sees lights in the distance she exhales as she finally sees some signs of life. It’s gotten so late that they are surely staying in this village for the night. The place looks like it might be a gated village, because as they get nearer she sees a huge steel gate and a very high fence with razor wire on the top that seems to be placed around the whole village. It’s blocking anyone from getting into the area without going through the security gate. There are also cameras.

The security guards all surrounded the car and made her father roll down all of the car windows. One guard with narrowed cat shaped eyes looks through the windows at all of them and a sinister smirk grows on his face as he finally looks at her.

She shifts as he looks at her for about a minute before moving away. Dria shivers as his eyes look wrong, they seem to be black and shining with a disturbing malevolence in the dark of the night. This whole situation seems weird and the over the top security is strange.

“Let the chosen one and her parents in, I’m sure the Master will be overjoyed to hear that she is finally here”

The creepy man finally speaks as someone else mutters at him.

“Okay Yoongi, open the gates Sungmin”

Whoever mutters at him suddenly commands someone with a harsh voice, sounding a little off.

The gates open and Dria is suddenly not so smug anymore, she knows that something feels seriously off about this whole place and something is wrong with those creepy guards. That guard's whole demeanour was exuding sinister intentions and her body is now drenched in anxiety.

When the car stops, Dria’s father gets out and so does her mother, the place they have stopped at is a huge mansion. Dria can’t help but huff out some annoyed air as her father opens her door for her, forcing her to get out of the vehicle and greet them.

A couple is standing there waiting for them and their grins look insincere, almost like they are fake and saccharine. But there is a kind of ominous darkness in both of their eyes and it’s actually disturbing. Dria gets insane chills again but this time it’s from a shadow she notices staring at her, they are standing in a window on the second floor.

“Welcome! We are so happy to welcome you to our home! I’m Eunji his mother”

The lady exclaims with an overjoyed but jittery expression on her face, she notes that she’s not that old, maybe late thirties, early forties maximum.

“Ahh yes, hello dear! I’m Jungmin. Hmm, I can see why my son is so enamoured with you. He will be here first thing in the morning to meet you”

The older man adds with amused eyes, he’s at least fifty, maybe fifty five or sixty.

He’s definitely the ladies husband as his hand is now around her waist. There is a possessive air to the man's movements around his wife.

She can’t help but latch onto that man’s comment though, wondering if she had already met his son and she doesn’t realise it. But does that mean his son already knows her and chose her specifically? That got her thinking about who he could possibly be.

“Hello Jungmin, we are extremely glad to be here. I’m absolutely certain our daughter will love your son. Won’t you, Dria”

Her father says in a threatening tone as he glares at Dria when he mentions her name.

“She won’t let you down, she’s going to behave. Aren’t you, my daughter?”

Her mother now informs them adding another layer of threat towards Dria with her pronounced words. She just nods with an uncomfortable smile that she’s sure looks like a grimace.

She’s now wondering just who these people are for her parents to be extra guarded and throwing passive aggressive threats towards her. They usually just complain and tell her to at least try to get on with her potential husband, but this time they are both directing thinly veiled threats at her.

They were always exasperated and would sometimes threaten to cut her off from her inheritance, but they never did.

Dria realises that this time is different, something about this entire situation is.

This worries her as they have never actually made her think they were serious about their threats before now.

As they all sit down to late supper, Dria can’t help but notice all of the staff’s stares when they notice her. They look like they are all assessing her, like they are checking her for something. Some smirk at her and others have a ghoulish smile on their face.

The creepy man called Hoseok that shows them to their rooms gives her a grin so wide that it actually looks menacing. And he called her Mistress, which was extremely weird.

Dria is currently deciding that she’s going to create havoc, she has to sabotage this whole thing. The whole vibe is creepy and shady.

Hoseok tells her that the shower has a mix of natural herbs in the water that come out first and they are extremely good for her skin. She frowns but nods at him anyway, still stuck in her own thoughts about the weird situation she now finds herself in.

Then he looks almost aggravated with himself after he exclaimed in a manic glee that the young Master will be meeting her tomorrow. It’s like he was trying to restrain his unadulterated glee a little and failed to contain himself. But he carries on, clearing his throat as he completes the task regardless and shows her all the toiletries in the cupboard.

Maybe this mysterious young Master has been waiting ages for a wife and he finally thinks he will be successful. She thinks that the young Master could be the most handsome man on Earth, but she’s not going to stay in this spine-chilling place. Everything here is wrong, something is amiss.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Jungkook has been thoroughly cleansed in special herbs in the tub this morning and was given the fertility concoction.

He’s annoyed that he can’t smoke or drink at the moment but he has to do it.

If he wants the ritual to go well.

He will be taking the stamina potion just before the ritual too, he doesn’t need an aphrodisiac for her though as she gets him hard with just one glance. Although he will shower one more time after eating, it’s needed to cleanse himself of earthly toxins.

His chosen one was given a fertility concoction in a desert last night and will be given an aphrodisiac just before the ritual in her ceremonial wine. The shower has been rigged to shower her in cleansing herbs too, Hoseok had told her to not worry and that it’s a special blend for good skin. So she will be told to cleanse again after dinner, due to the wine and food in her system.

Jungkook is sitting in his room talking to Yoongi who tells him that his chosen one is indeed stunning and is so much better than the sacrifice. He comments that she has superior breeding hips and looks better than skinny no ass Minji.

Yoongi tells him that more of his blood was mixed in with the Mistresses orange juice and Hoseok told him that he took more of Dria’s blood in her sleep.

Handing it over to Jungkook who gives him a twisted grin and drinks it immediately with a debauched groan. He licks his lips like it tastes delicious.

“What time is it, Jimin?”

Jungkook sternly asks him and he comments that it’s almost five pm and dinner will start very soon.

“Hmm, can’t wait to see the look on her face when she realises it’s me and that she’s not going anywhere”

Jungkook chuckles evilly as he gets Taehyung to do his cufflinks.

“She’s been such a bitch to me, but it got me so hard when she yanked my hair and spat on my face, fuck! I’m going to make her pay later on when she’s screaming with my cock up her tight ass”

Jungkook growls out lewdly as his eyes flash showing his unholy visage for a second before flashing back to normal.

Everyone around him starts cruelly laughing at his obsessions predicament.

“Let’s go, Master. It’s time”

Jimin’s malicious grin grows on his face.

“Yes, let’s”

Jungkook replies as a wicked smirk paints itself on his handsome face.

As soon as the men get to the huge dining room they notice all of the servants standing around as Jungkook’s personal underlings all accompanied him. Dria is sitting there looking so damn sexy, Jungkook thinks as she looks up at the sudden activity. Her face is a masterpiece as she pales at who just walked into the room.

“Mother, Father, Mr and Mrs Finch, Dria”

Jungkook greets everyone and accentuates her name like he wants to devour her.

He sits down next to Dria and his underlings stand behind him, all with matching ghoulish grins. She notices Jimin and Taehyung behind him with that man Yoongi from the gate and Hoseok from earlier.

“Nice to see you again, Jungkook”

Her father smiles at him with a huge smile and Dria is clearly having a meltdown in her head as she stares at Jungkook who now has piercings and tattoos on show. He looks totally different from his college appearance and Dria is shaken for all of about thirty seconds before she just stands up to leave, feeling mortified.

“Sit the fuck down, Dria”

Jungkook abruptly barks, snapping his fingers at her and she sits down with a look of betrayal at her own body’s failure to move and disobey. It feels like she’s not in control of her actions or mind at all.

“Good girl, be quiet and listen to me. So you are marrying me tonight whether you like it or not. Your parents have already done a deal with my father. They get riches and success, and I get you. They can’t back down or my father gets their souls. You aren’t going to sabotage this one, Dria. It doesn’t matter what you do to me, you are mine. You drank my blood so you can’t disobey me, darling”

Jungkook’s eyes completely turn red as he sends her a sinister grin and she just stares at him in shock, unable to move.

“So let’s eat dinner and then we can get ready for the ritual ceremony”

Jungkook commands and his parents and hers all nod with nervous grins. She has a feeling that he is in charge and everyone is a bit scared of him.

Her parents smile at him, tucking in to their meal and they act like he didn’t just say that to her. Dria is looking at them all now with a look of disbelief and betrayal as she realises that his mother looks like she is definitely Jungkook’s mother but the father, not so much.

And why the hell are Jungkook’s eyes flashing a blood red colour?

Her thoughts are racing, what does he mean that he will take their souls?

She’s willing her body to refuse and run, but it’s like she’s a puppet and can’t do anything else but behave.

Jungkook also looks totally different and his demeanour has completely changed.

He was always a shy quiet boy at college and she’s wholly regretting ever bullying him. Although he acted weirdly on Friday.

Dria couldn’t admit to herself that he did something to her body, she wanted to dominate the shy him, make him get on his knees and she couldn’t handle that thought so she bullied him.

He’s glaring at her like he wants to actually eat her and it’s like he can read her mind because a shit eating grin climbs on his face. Dria flushes looking back down to her food and acting like it’s the best thing she’s ever tasted.

A flash of her on her knees with Jungkook sadistically smashing his hips against her face and tugging harshly at her hair, assaults her brain like a 3D headset playing in front of her eyes.

“You are my little whore now and I’m gonna do whatever I want to you. My slutty little wife. Choke on my cock, Dria”

Jungkook in the visual growls sounding feral as he goes faster making her gag and choke on his massive cock.

The vision disappears and Dria is gripping the table with damp panties wondering what just happened. Jungkook smirks cruelly at her, slowly licking his fork like he’s trying to seduce her with his inhumanly long tongue. How the fuck did he just do that to me? Dria thinks, her mind is reeling.

Her mind gets invaded again and this time she’s fucking Jungkook with a strap on and yanking at his hair.

“Th-This is what you want, right Mommy? Yes fuck me, Mommy! Ahhh”

Jungkook whines pathetically as Dria savagely fucks into him from behind.

Dria’s pulse quickens and the vision changes to him riding her strap on as she tugs at his leaking cock.

“Yes puppy, cum for Mommy”

Dria moans as he whimpers cumming all over her tits.

The vision disappears again and Dria realises that Jungkook is fucking with her head somehow, as he winks at her with a malicious grin. Dria is almost panting from the unholy visions that invade her mind and all she wants to do is run from the table and get as far away from here as possible. Dria gulps down the red wine and as soon as she finishes it she knows that it was a huge mistake as Jungkook’s eyes flash at her with a villainous expression.

“Is everyone finished? Let’s get the paperwork signed, It’s time to get ready for the festivities”

Hoseok suddenly declares to everyone at the table who nodded.

He produces a piece of paper making Jungkook’s father sign something, then so does Dria’s father. Then Jungkook signs it, giving it back to Hoseok, who brings it to her telling her to sign here.

It’s a marriage certificate and Dria pauses just staring at it in shock before looking up at Jungkook.

“Sign it darling, be a good girl now”

Jungkook commands in a threatening sickly sweet voice, clicking his fingers.

She can’t stop herself as she signs her name and hands over the pen to Hoseok. Dria’s heart is beating so damn fast and she doesn’t know what to do.

Everyone starts getting up to leave and Jungkook chuckles looking at her.

“Oh, go get ready for me, my darling wife. Don’t be late, you have thirty minutes. Hoseok, Jimin help her and make sure she behaves”

Jungkook commands mockingly, clicking his fingers again making her stand up and get escorted by Hoseok and Jimin.

Dria can do nothing but obey as nothing she does can break the commands he gives every time he clicks his fingers.

They tell her she has to shower one more time, so she does. As she gets dressed into the red cape with a hood that she was given, she huffs out an annoyed air. She had baulked earlier at Hoseok when he had told her what she is supposed to wear for the ceremony, trying to argue with him.

How can she wear nothing else but a hooded cape? But Jimin had threatened her, saying he can always get Jungkook to come here and force her to get dressed in front of them all. Of course she obeyed after that as she’s not dressing in front of all of his minions.

As she stands in front of the bathroom mirror another vision invades her mind and it’s so strong this time that it knocks her for six.

“Fuck, yes my pretty little slut. Tight little cunt is taking my whole hand, such a fucking whore for your husband, Dria. Mine! You are now mine forever!”

Jungkook sinfully groans as he stares down at the debauched view.

Dria’s legs are shaking as she clings to the edge of the sink, she can feel every single harsh thrust of his hand and a warmth starts to flow straight to her core.

She can’t believe that these scenes are now turning her on so badly that she’s struggling to stand, she whimpers loudly before the vision disappears.

Dria is literally panting as she splashed water on her face, she wasn’t allowed to wear makeup or anything else like perfume either. So she has a bare face right now. Jimin had told her that earthly things will corrupt her detoxification, whatever the hell that’s supposed to mean. So she just brushes her hair and puts the crimson cape on, tying the ribbon up and feeling really exposed, as the cape is all that covers her nakedness.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Jimin and Hoseok now have black capes on as they escort her to a huge ballroom that has part of the ceiling dome open showing the blood moon. The place has red candles everywhere and a ton of people are standing around wearing black capes. Their heads all creepily turn around to look at her at the same time as they escort her to Jungkook who has on a black cape with a weird symbol in gold on the back of it.

Jungkook’s father Jungmin is standing there wearing a long black gown too with the same weird symbol on it. Dria’s parents also have on the black robes too and so does Jungkook’s mother who also has the symbol on hers.

“We are here today for Jungkook’s unholy union with his chosen tonight on this auspicious blood moon. First we will send our worship to our father with hopes that he will appear and bless the union of his son and his chosen one”

Jungmin exclaims in a loud commanding voice that echoes around the room.

Dria frowns as that means Jungmin is not his father, but she’s confused about him hoping that his real father appears, as that’s weird. She watches as everyone bends their heads and starts chanting in a strange language she doesn’t know.

She pales when a man with full black eyes with black sclera brings a terrified girl into the room. Dria pales when she recognizes her from college, she is called Minji and she’s naked with bloody harsh symbols cut everywhere on her body. Her arms and legs are tied up and she is sobbing behind a gag on her mouth.

Dria is definitely starting to wonder if this is a dodgy cult and she’s now even more worried about who they worship. She jolts as she abruptly realises that there is a whole ass altar with blood, a live snake, an upside down pentagram, a wet bloody heart, a skull, an athame, chalices, loads of different oils and minerals, pieces of wood and many other things.

Are they a satanic cult?

Her parents just stand by the altar like it’s perfectly normal and this whole thing is absolutely fine. Are her parents actually in this cult? Dria’s thoughts are reeling as she can’t believe that her parents are cultists.

She is transfixed by Jungmin who is putting some herbs and ingredients in a poultice and grinding it. Dria almost gags when she notices him cutting a slither of flesh from the heart adding it to the mix.

After that he places the whole macabre concoction into the golden chalice. When Jungkook pulls her nearer to him and grabs her hand she goes to resist, but he’s whispering a threat in her ear.

“Be a good wife for me now, behave and do everything you are told. You are mine now and you are going to be mine forever, my wife. Even in hell if we die, there is no getting away from me Dria, not ever. I’m gonna fuck you for eternity”

Jungkook’s gleeful grin is what she notices, then the fierce glow of his full blood red eyes, then the click of his fingers that snap the poor girl back to being fully controlled.

Everything goes dead silent as the poor woman gets tied upside down on a damn inverted cross, her muffled screams and protests are the only things heard as they echo across the vast hall.

Dria’s can only stand dead still and witness the gruesome blood curdling scene. No one else bats an eyelid and they all just watch on with sinister intentions.

Jungmin now moves towards the poor woman with an athame in hand and the gold chalice with the bloodcurdling mix of ingredients in it. Dria can hear her heart beating so loudly in her ears now.

He starts to speak in a harsh guttural tone as he speaks the unknown language again. Every sentence he speaks gets creepily repeated by everyone in the room.

Dria is just watching on in horror, until he gruesomely slits the girl's neck and holds the chalice underneath to catch the blood. Her macabre gurgling noises mixed with screaming are horrific and Dria tries to close her eyes.

“Watch everything darling, don’t you dare look away my wife”

Jungkook husks in her ear and snaps his fingers at her. Dria can only watch as everyone starts chanting again and poor Minji finally goes limp.

“We are up next my wife, do as you are told or I will punish you, Dria. You are only to drink from the chalice and say I obey and give myself to my husband when asked to talk”

Jungkook groans loudly in her ear, licks at it and pulls away looking down at her giving her a huge terrifying grin.

Jungmin walks towards the couple and offers them the chalice after chanting something over it. Jungkook drinks from it first, then it’s offered to Dria who can do nothing but drink from it feeling sickened.

Her stomach clenches but it’s like she’s watching everything through someone else’s eyes. This whole scenario makes her feel like she’s on some sort of psychedelic drug and is having a bad trip.

“Talk now darling”

Jungkook coos at her in a mocking tone and she repeats the words that he told her to say.

“Good girl”

He rasps, winks and gives her a chilling smirk, his eyes glint like he’s having impure thoughts about her.

“I Jungkook, ask for my father to bless our unholy union and grant me his power tonight to seal my union with my chosen forever. Father, I beg you to preside over this ritual and come forth. Please give your approval of my mate”

Jungkook’s whole eyes are red and glowing, his animalistic voice sends a spine chilling shudder right up Dria’s back. His hand is firm as he holds her hand to keep her by his side.

Jungmin starts to look ominous and a dark cloud gathers around him, his eyes start glowing and they can all see that he now has glowing golden eyes. His whole body is covered in an unnatural swirling darkness, there is a cold unholy chill in the air now too and the horrid smell of sulphur and fire.

It’s like he’s grown in stature as the air crackles dangerously around him, everyone gasps and suddenly drops to their knees like they are kowtowing.

Jungkook drags Dria to her knees and she’s actually glad as her knees already felt like they were going to buckle in terror.

“My son, rise”

A hair-raising voice booms around the room and Jungkook rises, pulling up Dria with him.

“So proud of you son, you have sent so much power to me in my name. Not long now, your son will bring about a new age. I bless your unholy union. Disrobe”

He tells him in a formidable unearthly voice.

Jungkook removes his robe letting it fall to the floor and she now sees that he’s also naked under that robe and is covered in tattoos, he has tattooed some strange symbols on his torso too.

Jungkook turns pulling her hood back, then he unties the ribbon on Dria’s robe, the blood red robe falls and drops to the marbled floor.

She flushes but she can’t do anything but obey Jungkook and she’s now absolutely tormented by what Jungmin looks like right now too, as his unearthly appearance is definitely not human.

Jungkook smirks wickedly at her as his crimson orbs slowly roamed down her voluptuous body with an obvious lustful intent. His eyes connect to hers. The fiendish Jungmin moves forward whilst swirling his dark smoke-covered finger in the blood whilst chanting. The vile mixture turns black and hisses ominously.

He then paints a symbol on both of their torso’s, on their breast bones, chanting words that sound malevolent and bestial. His wife gently takes the chalice from him like she’s used to it by now.

His palm goes to Jungkook’s forehead then Dria’s at the same time, she feels a dark sinister corruption flow through her and a large tattooed symbol appears on their chests where the painted concoction from the chalice once was.

She glances at Jungkook’s to see he now has the same mark as hers on his breastbone too. But Dria jolts as she suddenly realises that Jungkook now looks so much bigger, taller, buffer and has these thin black veins all over his body as Dria’s eyes roam over him in shock. The terrified girl thinks about how damn beautiful he is, if only he wasn’t such a crazy psycho.

Red crimson horns have appeared on his head and matching vermillion wings are now visible on his broad back. His black hair is longer, much longer.

When he grins evilly at the terrified shock in her eyes, she now notices his sharp canines too. A long forked tongue lewdly licks across his pierced lips like he’s about to eat something delicious.

Her first thought is ‘oh shit, he’s a fucking demon isn’t he?’ Her mind is in a state. The thoughts are muddled and racing as her whole being screams at her to run. The thing is. . . she can’t as her feet are literally plastered to the stone marble floor.

“Time for the first mating under the blood moon, Son. Take your chosen mate for all your loyal followers to see, complete the unholy union and seal the bond to make her your mate forever”

Jungmin tells Jungkook in a hair raising, proud sounding growl and Dria realises that it’s one hundred percent not Jungmin controlling that body anymore.

But thinking about who or what is possessing Jungmin’s body right now, is something she just can’t comprehend.

She’s too terrified of being killed right now, so she tries to make sure that she just survives the night. Dria tries to ignore the fact that he just told Jungkook to take her in front of his followers.

Jungkook immediately picks up Dria who lets out a little yelp, he gives her a huge disturbing grin as he places her naked body on the stone altar. He looks so much bigger than before as he looms over her at the end of the stone altar and spreads her legs with a loud cuss.

Jungkook doesn’t wait as he impatiently tugs at his huge thick length and rubs his tip against her soaked folds, slamming in her with a voracious guttural growl making her arch her back.

Dria feels like she’s been impaled by something that’s way bigger than any normal human dick, and it’s pushing her way past her limits making her cry out in pain.

Her mind just can’t compute what’s happening to her right now and she’s utterly disturbed that she feels more turned on right now than she has ever felt before. Dria thinks that Jungkook looks like he’s at peace after he bottoms out inside her with a content sigh, his eyes closed. Before opening his crimson eyes and giving her some serious eye contact that makes her squirm.

“That’s it my wife, taking all of my demon cock like a good girl should”

Jungkook sinisterly smirks at her. His predatory eyes fiercely glow as they glint with infatuation, showing hunger mixed with an intense craving. So he is a demon, Dria says in her head.

The blood moon mocks her as it turns a darker blood red, like an ominous omen.

Everyone is now chanting again and the foreboding swirling silhouette of Jungmin is chanting again and it sounds beastial and hair raising making her shiver.

Jungkook’s hands are roughly gripping her thighs as he pounds into her with a lewd groan.

Dria is crying out in both pain and pleasure at every single slap of his skin against hers. All she can do is moan and writhe, she can’t protest or stop him.

Her ample chest is bouncing and her mouth is parted as she stares up at Jungkook who is devouring the scene with his ravenous red fiery orbs.

His tattooed hand roughly palms her breasts and spitefully pulls at her nipple making her squeeze around his huge girth. Jungkook’s smirk is both unnerving and sexy at the same time as he tongues at his piercings on his lip.

“So fucking tight around me, my wife”

He chuckles breathlessly as he thumbs Dria’s clit making her moan out and writhe underneath him.

“Such a fucking slut for my cock, darling. Pussy is squeezing my length so well”

Jungkook mocks her, spearing her harder with a harsh growl.

He leans over her sucking and biting at her tender nipples before sucking harsh marks and biting roughly all over her torso. Jungkook savagely bites down around her areola, his canines penetrating her tender abused skin. He moans perversely around it, sucking and licking at the pooling blood.

She is horrified to like it and as his sharp teeth pierced her skin she abruptly falls into a full blown orgasm, clenching intensely around him and wailing.

Jungkook’s red orbs look up at her with a smug satisfaction on his face.

Jungkook spitefully grabs her around the mouth digging his vicious black fingernails into her skin. Forcing her to open it as he leans over her gathering a huge glob of bloody spit before letting it drop straight into her mouth.

“Swallow it, Darling. Only fair you taste my spit when I so greedily licked yours from my lips the other day. Hmmm, you swallowed it, dirty girl”

Jungkook maniacally grins down at her like a deviant, his eyes deviously glinting at her. Dria mewls loudly and lewdly flutters around him as he fucks her through her oversensitivity.

“That’s it, milk my cock my little whore. I knew you were the right one, my chosen”

Jungkook filthily moans and stands back up impaling her faster with an animalistic groan. His large tattooed hand goes to Dria’s neck, cruelly choking her, she feels dizzy and squirms on his demonic length.

“Yes, you are so fucking snug for me, such a tiny little pussy, my wife”

He hisses, sadistically thumbing at her sensitive clit again.

Her breathless raspy cries are turning Jungkook on as he ruthlessly strums his thumb against her nub. His bulbous tip assaulted her g spot with every single rough buck of his hips. Jungkook’s depraved hand tightens violently around her neck when she grips tighter around his cock. Her whines and whimpers sound raspy as poor Dria nears her second orgasm.

“Hmm yes, look at you creaming all over my big cock like a messy baby. Saturating me with your mouth-watering juices, looks so delicious. Can’t wait to make you squirt down my throat”

Jungkook vulgarly growls, staring down at where they join with a carnal intensity, devouring the scene with his carnivorous vermillion red orbs.

Her senses are all automatically heightened and she can now hear and feel exactly what he’s talking about.

The lewd sloppy suction noises are now deafening to Dria’s ears, every single time his length slams into her again, stretching her poor abused pussy out.

Dria can definitely feel how sticky it is around the base of Jungkook’s shaft and how her creamy juices are overflowing down her taint to drench his balls.

“Come on, give it to me, my wife. Drench my dick again with your slutty juices. I’m gonna breed you so well, fuck a son into you. Pump you so full, all night long until all you can feel is my cum. You are gonna be so swollen with my seed, my perfect mate”

Jungkook growls sinfully, as pathetic little whimpers escape her lips.

Dria feels delirious as black dots invade her vision from his unrelenting hand.

She feels horrified by how horny and ravenous she feels, especially when she starts to orgasm so intensely that she is sobbing. As soon as his merciless grip around her bruised neck loosens she squirts all over him.

“Fuck yes, that’s right cream my cock! So filthy, shit. Squirt all over me, my wife. Hmm your hot cunt feels exquisite”

Jungkook groans blissfully, feeling addicted to the feeling of her pulsing around his girth as he twitches inside her, hardening like steel as his balls tightened.

His eager hand goes to her hair, yanking it back to expose her pretty neck.

Leaning in he animalistically growls and buries his sharp fangs into her soft skin, right on her erogenous zone.

A muffled rough moan sounds out as she descends into another smaller orgasm, squeezing tightly around him.

Jungkook tugs sadistically on her hair, stinging her scalp and sucking harshly on her neck, tugging on her neck with his teeth as he savagely presses his teeth further into her sore neck.

Dria raked her nails across his broad shoulders as she cried out grinding up against him trying to ride her orgasm out. Dria has forgotten exactly what position she is in right now, as Jungkook’s followers all watch on in awe.

His length pulses and unloads into her with a vicious feral slam as he bottoms out stuttering his hips. Painting her cervix with his large creamy load, and a satiated whine vibrating on her tender skin.

Dria can feel the harsh breathing of his nose against her skin as his cum keeps pumping inside her. She’s panting hard underneath him as he pulls his canines from her skin and licks at it a few times before standing back up.

The look on Jungkook’s face is one of absolute triumph as he palms her skin like it’s precious. His possessive infatuation still shines brightly in his crimson eyes, as he shamelessly devours her marked up bare skin.

“Tis done my son, you are mated”

The dark malevolent Jungmin declares as he walks over, placing his palm over Dria’s womb and chanting again. She shudders because his touch is like a sinister malevolent nightmare, filled with a hellish deadly chill as his shadowy palm presses against her skin.

“It will be so, a son shall be born. He will be very powerful and magnificently strong, worthy of Lucifer's grandson. I can see it now”

He unnervingly chants again with those scary menacing gold orbs looking down at the small of her stomach. Dria looks from his hand to Jungmin’s face and the grin he flashes her is gruesome as he sees the realisation in her shocked eyes.

“Welcome to the family Dria, can’t wait for my grandson to be born to bring about the demonic prophecy. Well done my son, your mate is clearly perfect for you”

Then Jungmin visibly sags looking tired and way less formidable than he just did. He looks much smaller in stature too.

Jungkook’s hard length is still snugly seated inside her and it doesn’t look like he will pull out of her yet or go soft. His bloody teeth show as he grins down at her with a sadistic gratification.

“You are mine forever now, you aren’t ever going anywhere. Hmm you are so exquisite, my little wife”

He groans possessively, gently palming her womb as he thrusts against her.

“Such a good wife giving me a son, I knew it would be you from the moment I first met you. My precious mate, hmm I feel so horny I could go again. You make me so fucking hard!”

Jungkook whines, lewdly twitching inside her already, making Dria whimper.

She is interrupted by all of the hooded followers walking up, giving her blessings and touching her womb area in such a way that they act like she’s utterly precious.

Dria narrows her eyes at her parents who look absolutely overjoyed by this development, their greedy expressions are obvious as they touch their daughter and give her their satanic blessings. Dria feels utterly betrayed but she’s still being controlled by Jungkook who just stays seated inside her, staring down at her with a wide menacing smile and a twisted besotted expression.

“Do you think our master will let her join the orgy afterwards? I would love to feel her. Her tits are fantastic”

A voice says a little too loudly and Jungkook’s expression now looks utterly murderous, a dark red cloud of smoke bleeds from him and his hand conjures a blue and red swirling ball of fire.

The air crackles and a harsh air blows through the whole hall and it darkens, dark shadows of monsters start to bleed out of the walls groaning.

“Who just fucking lusted after my mate and so fucking openly?”

Jungkook’s harsh guttural voice booms around the room, he’s absolutely furious.

Everyone panics and immediately drops to the floor begging for their lives.

“I said who was it? SHOW YOURSELF! NOW!! I will fucking decimate all of you if don’t tell me who it was!”

Jungkook roars out menacingly, his wings are stretched out behind him and Dria can’t help but lust after his dark but magnificent aura.

She realises that this form turns her on, he looks down at her giving her a smug knowing look and glances back down at the people with a look of disgust. Some poor people are shaking and one has clearly peed themselves.

“YOU! Do you forget I can read your minds? If you had openly admitted to it I may have shown you mercy. Get the fuck up now, do you think you can insult me and talk about MY MATE!! I WILL FUCKING EVISERATE YOU!!”

Jungkook savagely growls, sounding and looking utterly terrifying as his voice booms around the room.

The older man stands up visibly shivering with a look of absolute terror.

The ball of fire shoots at the man burning him to dust immediately and a few gasps and cries of fear are heard.

Another is abruptly conjured.

“NO ONE IS TOUCHING MY MATE, HOW DARE YOU THINK YOU CAN COVET MY WIFE!! SHE IS MINE! Now the rest of you get here and finish your unholy blessings or I’m punishing the fucking lot of you!”

He possessively growled, his voice thundering at everyone, Jungkook looked pissed right off by the whole incident.

Jungkook looks back down at Dria and his monstrous demeanour calms down immediately and the shadows disappear, it lightens up again and the ball of hellfire he conjured gets snuffed out.

Jungkook picks Dria up after the rest of the satanic blessings, telling everyone with a maniacal laugh that he’s going to his bedchamber to play with his pretty wife. She has to give it to him, he’s still seated inside her and carrying her like a baby, like she weighs nothing at all.

The earlier incident was forgotten as everyone congratulated him with smiles.

No one says anything or bats an eyelid, in fact they are all starting to disrobe like they are getting ready for an orgy, this must be a common occurrence. There are now many who now look like demons, mixed in with the satanic cult followers, including all of Jungkook’s friends, all of them are different types of demons.

The last thing she sees are two of Jungkook’s friends fucking her mother and very sadistically as she wails. And someone she doesn’t know is getting her father to suck them off as another smashes his hips against her fathers ass cheeks. This was a sight she never wished to see, not in any lifetime.

Dria feels like she has no one who could help her now as her parents are clearly in this cult and they will help Jungkook for the riches and fame. And all at the expense of their daughter, they chose riches. If there are demons, are there no angels here on Earth?

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Dria shudders as she realises that this is it, she’s married to Jungkook legally and spiritually. There is no going back, he’s never letting her go, she knows this deep down inside her darkening soul.

She can also feel the satanic corruption taking root in her body and she can’t fight it. It’s way too strong as it slowly consumes her light and replaces it with utter darkness. Jungkook’s mark on her seems to be pulsing.

The power of her child inside the tiny egg is already pulsing through her and the sheer force of malevolence he is emitting is dizzying and frightening. The sperm must have only just joined an egg yet his power is taking root in her soul already. She wonders if demon’s usually get women pregnant so easily or quickly, or is it just the really powerful ones.

“Welcome to your new bedroom, my wife, mother of my child. This is it Dria, you are mine for eternity, so I suggest you accept it. I’m going nowhere either, I’m immortal, the son of Lucifer. You can’t hurt me, kill me or get anyone stronger than me to help either. I’ve looked the same since I turned twenty one. I won’t age anymore. Even if I got killed by some miracle it would only take me a year to get back to you. I would get sent to hell and be able to get strong enough to get out in no time. No one is stronger than me, only my father. So stop with the useless errant nonsense that your mind keeps spewing. And NO, there are no arch angels or seraphim left, well not anymore. We killed them all! Didn’t you realise that this is the age of the demons? Everyone has turned to the side of the sins, everyone is drowning in sin. My father is reigning supreme and we have cults everywhere on Earth, this is just my inner circle”

Jungkook laughs manically as he presses her into the wall and bottoms right out again, fucking her into the surface with a lewd groan.

“Gonna fuck you all day, every single day, my wife. Ugh, so tight and wet! I don’t have to jerk off to sinful thoughts of you ten times a day anymore. I have the real thing. Best pussy ever, looks so good taking my cock. That’s it, fuck! Cry for me my little mate, you won’t be getting any rest at all tonight. You’ve denied me for so long that I’m ravenous for you. Good girl, my perfect little cock slut wife”

Jungkook growls greedily as he drives into her so fast that she’s wailing, his demon tongue licking the tears off her face with a sick, eager satisfaction.

Dria’s tears of realisation and her wails because he’s plunging into her so hard and roughly, are only turning him on more. His hand chokes her, cutting off her oxygen as he rails the hell out of her.

She doesn’t want to give Jungkook his sick satisfaction, but she’s mourning the loss of her whole life. She can only follow his commands as he controls her like a little doll, a plaything. His growls and moans as he fills her up with his seed again are debauched and filled with a feral need for more already.

Dria sinks more and more into the controlling force of her powerful son and his merciless father. The infernal demonic madness corrupts her and the utter despair inside her heart starts to dissipate like a puff of smoke, it happens as soon as her mind starts to accept her iniquitous husband. He’s the fiendish son of the devil, there is no fighting how strong he seems and their son is a tiny brand new embryo and he’s controlling her thoughts already.

Jungkook grins sinisterly, forcing her to sit on his face, moving her like a puppet with telekinesis. Telling her to squirt down his throat like a good little whore wife, seemingly not caring that she has his cum dripping from her entrance. Her new husband is a debauched demon with sinful tendencies and wicked intentions glinting in his eyes.

Dria just moans out yes Master as she immediately complies to his demand. Instead of her being forced to do it like a remote controlled doll, she does whatever he wants her to.

Jungkook roughly shoves two fingers in her pussy, coating them in both of their juices and removes them, sadistically plunging them into her ass in one go.

She mewls out in pain and pleasure, drowning in the hedonistic sin. She knows that there is no fighting against Jungkook, it’s hopeless.

And the perverse, unholy darkness that surrounds and fills them both starts to feel a little too good to Dria. It feels like a sinful glove, like the greedy need for more, unadulterated gluttony to consume more of her mate's body, an unholy ravenous lust that builds in her and every other sin you can think of is gripping her soul hard. Pride that she has such a powerful mate who everyone is scared of and envy for anyone who has felt him like this. This ignites some wrathful thoughts.

“That’s it baby, give yourself to your husband, to your soulmate. Give in and let me devour you for all eternity. Once you become my mate you slowly become a demon too, let the darkness take you, my pretty pet. Give in to the sinful temptation, drown in it darling. Accept me, don’t make me control you forever my wife. I want you to accept that you will always be mine, my desire, my everything, my obsession, my possession, my whole world, mine! I knew you’d be mine the second I laid my eyes on you, I had to have you. No one else has ever had my cock in their pussy, only you my mate. Those whores were only good to suck my dick, nothing else. Only you deserved to have my cock, baby. I’d only let you fuck me up the ass with a strap on. You taste so fucking delicious, damn! I’m gonna penetrate you with my tongue, my tantalising tasty slut!”

Jungkook indecently groans as he pumps his fingers into her puckered hole, abruptly penetrating her with his thick long forked tongue.

As Dria grinds her hips to ride his long demonic tongue, something abruptly snaps in her, the chill of submission suddenly invades her mind and she completely gives in to her husband, Jungkook. To corruption.

It grasps around her soul caressing it with its depraved malevolence, she lets it in gasping from the force of it. She always wanted him and now she has to stop kidding herself, she has him all to herself forever. Jungkook is now hers.

Jungkook can read her mind and is extremely pleased, his expression is disturbing as his predatory, obsessive, blood red orbs glint with a fervent ravening glare up at her.

They say “Say you are MINE!”

‘Hmmm yes, I can now talk to you telepathically, good girl for submitting to me. I want you to squirt all over my face, my love. Soak me in your filthy juices. I’m yours and you are mine, always. Say you are mine baby, that I’m yours’

Jungkook lewdly growls inside her head as he can now talk to her privately. Dria moans out desperately, she’s dazed like she’s drowning in delicious syrupy lust and it’s so thick and seductive.

Jungkook can see her eyes start to blacken and magnificent dark wings erupt from her back, her pretty horns grow and he knows he has her. Being blessed by Lucifer and marked by Lucifer as his official family, along with being marked and mated by Jungkook, Lucifer’s son. And now bearing a strong demonic child were all too much for her to ever fight the darkness.

Her soul has fallen to darkness and she will live forever with him drowning in sin.

He digs his nails into her ass cutting into her plump flesh and his canines savagely bite onto her mound knowing that she will heal no matter what he throws at her.

“Yes, yes! Ahh Jungkook, mine! Hmm, yes my mate, yours for infinity. I’m yours Jungkook”

Dria drowns as she lets the darkness pulse through her and accepts that he’s hers too.

She feels exquisite pain and mind blowing pleasure, as he laps at her bloody pussy and thrusts another finger into her ass making it three. The primal moan she emits is loud and makes him groan in an animalistic manner.

“That’s it my wife, show me how much of a queen you are. Show me how much you really want me, drown me in your unholy slutty juices. Ride my face like it’s your throne, fuck my tongue baby. I’m gonna claim your ass after. Then you can claim mine after I claim that pretty little mouth of yours”

Jungkook savagely growls, penetrating her with his long demonic tongue again.

“You're now mine, my king”

Dria wickedly growls looking down at him, his eyes show amusement when she yanks at his raven coloured hair lewdly moaning as she grinds on him. She can feel how consumed he is with her, how much he worships her and the feeling is completely voracious and ravenously possessive.

He feels her emotions and knows that her soul is completely demonic, but he can feel the same adoration, devotion, obsession and possession for him that he feels for her. Demons can love but they love so fiercely that the feelings are stronger. More power is behind it, they love with everything they have.

Jungkook finally feels complete and he can’t wait for their son to bring about hell on earth like he was always supposed to. For him to release Lucifer and fully release all of the seven deadly sins powers. All of his minions are the sins and he’s the epitome of the sins. He is the sin of pride which means that he incites them all.

People get selfish when prideful, they get egocentric and they encourage other sins. Like thinking they can get as many women as they want, inciting lust. Others are too prideful telling everyone that they are the best at something inviting envy or maybe that they have something better than them, inviting greed from others as they want that too. Gluttonously claiming they can eat or drink more than someone else, it’s all ego and pride. Even wrath is born out of pride, their pride causes an argument and then a fight. Others are lazy and have pride in the fact that they are eating and sleeping their time away.

The others Yoongi, Taehyung, Jimin, Namjoon, Jin and Hoseok are the other sins. Hoseok is envy, Namjoon is wrath, Yoongi is sloth, Jin is gluttony, Jimin is greed and Taehyung is lust. They are all waiting patiently for their real powers, Jungkook only has a small amount of his real power but it is still much stronger than theirs. But they all respect him and his leadership, they were all hand picked by him to become the sins.

His son's very presence on earth is already corrupting it, he can’t wait for these pathetic humans to bow down in terror. The stronger his son gets the stronger he gets and Jungkook will finally get his real strength once the apocalypse begins on Earth. He can’t wait.

His plans are going swimmingly and now he also has his soulmate to devour whenever he wants. . . forever.

MASTERLIST: here

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Please do not translate, copy, steal or repost my stories as your own, or any part of my story as your own without my consent.

Do not feed any part of my stories into any AI software either.

Sharing the link or re-blogging is perfectly fine of course.

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armpirate · 1 month ago

Text

RED || Jungkook | Ch. 1

MASTERLIST Previous || Next

Pairings: Demon!Jungkook x fem!reader

Genre: smut, angst, fluff, fantasy, past life

Warnings: Explicit language, mention of death and suicide, demonology, violence, rough sex

Summary: Y/n thought her life couldn't get worse after losing her parents in a tragic accident. Years after, she's aware of everyone moving forward, while she's in the same place, isolated and alone. She struggles to find meaning in a world that seems indifferent to her grief. Desperate for comfort, to feel the deep connection she had been missing, she starts the manifestation, expecting an inoffensive entity to walk with her that rough path. What she doesn't know is that she awoke the mysterious entity tied to an old necklace around her neck.

Jungkook, a mysterious and seductive figure, appears in her life, offering the company she craves. But as his presence grows stronger, so does the unsettling sense that there's more to him -and the necklace- than meets the eye, unfolding all the reasons that took him to that place.

Now, as the past bleeds into the present, Y/n must fight with her growing feelings for the demon who seems familiar yet dangerous. Jungkook is determined to reclaim his power, but in doing so, he may doom Y/n once again. Bound by fate, the two are locked in a dangerous mix of love, redemption, and the looming threat of destruction.

Will they break the curse that has haunted them both, or will history repeat itself with devastating consequences?

Chapter duration: 11 minutes

When she first came across a video about manifestation through subliminal audios, she was skeptical. More like skeptical, she quite laughed at the idea of people actually believing someone could get something out of that. It was similar to making a wish to a shooting star, with the only difference being that watching those videos made her feel like an idiot.

At first, those videos showed up as advertisements of other videos claiming to know how to attract positive energies, or how you could get whatever you wanted with manifestations. Slowly, they evolved into more specific videos on how the Law of Attraction worked and thousands of videos with that same theme. She wasn't a believer, she certainly didn't think a video on social media could help her overcome her struggles, yet she still believed in those small signs. As if the universe was trying to communicate with her somehow. She still chose to go on with life, hopeful she was just getting crazier.

But after she found herself alone at home, bored on a Saturday night after coming back from work, while her only friends were hanging out with their own friends, suddenly those videos didn't sound as stupid and pathetic as she thought.

She went from one video to the other, too bored to continue, but too intrigued in finding out whether they worked or not to give up. One of her hands sneaked under the blanket, finding a warm place when she pressed her thighs around it, so she could escape the cold in her apartment.

Suddenly, while moving from one video to the other, those videos started turning into "magical entities", things that weren't abstract. Those apparently powerful entities were tangible, with personalities and thoughts, with amazing abilities. And, most importantly, that would wish only good things for those who manifested them.

At first, she ignored it. She didn't have the energy to think of herself playing the Bloody Mary game at such a big age, but then she thought of how she had nothing else to lose. She was already bored. If it didn't work out, she'd have found entertainment for the night. If it did work out, life would probably start looking at her differently.

She had nothing to lose, at that point. The only results would be either non-existent or positive.

With a sigh, she moved in her bed, dragging her body to the middle, legs crossed and hands still holding her phone, earphones on and eyes focused on the screen. Nervously, she played with the necklace around her neck, looking for some reassurance there, before she started speaking.

Her eyes closed, one hand holding her phone, the other hand still playing nervously with the pendant of her necklace.

—By the thread of time, I call to you —she repeated softly, barely audible in a whisper. Her tone was shy, as if someone was hearing her despite living alone—. In silence, I call. In darkness, I find you —one of her eyes opened, trying to check whether something was changing in her surroundings—. From the shadows of what was, come forth into the light of now? Bound by love, freed by pain. Answer me —another sigh, another movement of her head showing off her disappointment—. If someone is there, come to me, please, fill this void.

When saying those last words, her voice cracked, and her eyes watered at the possibility of calling out for her parents. She went quickly from trying to call out that entity to demand her parents to be there with her, right when she needed them.

She dropped her phone, holding onto the necklace that one belonged to her mother, while looking around in the darkness.

—I'll do whatever it takes —her voice was shaky while pronouncing those words—, I don't care about the price, I don't care about the consequences. Please, I need you.

For a brief moment during that chant, she felt something in the air changing. Like the temperature dropping or the hint of an indecipherable whisper falling on her ear... yet she realized it was all coming from her own desperation and not reality.

There was no movement in her apartment, no hints that whatever she did worked. Her tongue moved through her lips, stopping at the corner with an annoyed expression, dropping her head to the front while her hands fell over her lap.

It was the dumbest and most pathetic thing she had ever done in her twenty four years alive. And which made it worse was how hopeful she felt on it working out.

The reverse of her hand moved with anger over her cheekbones, wiping out the tears that kept rolling down. Minutes later, she looked like she hadn't been crying, she looked like she hadn't been hoping for a miracle, plugging her phone and turning the lamp off, so she could lie on the bed on her back again, wrapped on the thick blankets.

Her fingers fidgeted on her belly under the covers, eyes stuck on the ceiling above her, while she kept thinking she didn't do things right. She felt uneasy, unable to get some peaceful sleep before she insisted again.

—Psst —she called out—. Don't take too long to give signs. If you're there, show up with the same desperation I called on you.

She tried, even if it was something that gave her no results.

Y/n found herself standing in the middle of an empty street, her heart pounding in her chest. The world around her seemed old -ancient, even-, but not the European type of old. The characteristics of that street had Asian features, pretty remarkable.

The street was eerily quiet, deserted, and bathed in a redish fog that clung to everything. The uneven stone path beneath her feet was cold, and the sound of her own footsteps echoed unnaturally, amplifying the growing tension inside her. She felt the weight of something unseen pressing down on her chest, making it hard to breathe.

The wind was still, and yet there was a gnawing feeling that something was watching her, just out of sight. Each shadow seemed to stretch and bend as if alive, threatening to swallow her whole. Every step she took forward only heightened her anxiety, the oppressive silence ringing in her ears.

The cold air had her hugging herself almost instantly, making her even more confused at the fact that she was still wearing the tank top and shorts she used as her pajamas.

Suddenly, something came at her like a wave, making it difficult to breathe, going from holding her own arms to grabbing her throat as if that gesture would make the air come through more easily.

Her breath came shallow, and in a desperate attempt to escape the suffocating emptiness of the street, she darted into one of the old wooden houses nearby. The door creaked as it swung shut behind her, enclosing her in complete darkness. Inside, it was still, but different -no longer the silent, oppressive void outside. Inside, there was a strange, almost magnetic pull that tugged her forward, guiding her down a dimly lit corridor.

The door clicking behind her echoed the room, making her aware of how big the place was despite not being able to see anything at all. Scared of the dark, she tried to open the door again, but it kept resisting her strength.

As if that action was the only thing she needed to get it all started, some claps stole her attention, freezing her move. With every lamp that was being lit in the corridor, a new clap made all the hairs in her body raise, getting pointier with each loud sound.

It kept getting narrower the further it was from her, and the weak light coming from the curved lamps barely gave her any chance to see properly. Her mind kept telling her to try to open the main door and escape, but her body didn't respond to her own begs. Her feet started moving, slowly but steadily towards the new door away from her, as if there was something else controlling her moves better than she did.

Her steps felt heavy, almost as if her body was being dragged by an external force to the dark red door at the end of the corridor. It was hypnotic, attracting, almost like seeing a distant star in a black sky.

The light grew stronger as she moved, illuminating a single room. Just like the street, with dark tones of red that ended up being pleasing to her sight.

She stepped inside, her heart hammering louder now, the air thick with something she couldn't name. As soon as she crossed the door, the lights went off again. Her eyes were squinted as she tried to see something through the darkness when she found herself trapped again in a different space. But, that time, she didn't attempt to get out, she didn't turn, not a single hair in her body moved. There was a growing sensation that there was something inside she wanted to find.

A sonorous breeze collided with her ears and her body instantly reacted to the sensation. Her skin was burning, her core throbbed with eagerness. There was an urging suffocating need that started to build up and that she couldn't make disappear when pressing her thighs together -it only grew bigger with every slight rub.

Somewhere among the silence, she heard a male chuckle, deep and dark, but so attracting that it almost caused her to moan out loud. Her brain overthought when that laugh got in her system, and her stomach felt funny instantly.

The room lit up, but not completely. For minutes, there was a flicker of light coming and going in different corners of the room, quickly moving in front of her. With every new move, she discovered a new detail of the room that was hidden to her with that darkness, finally allowing her to see what was being kept from her eyesight.

A few centimeters ahead of her, there was a black leather headboard that shined under the light, completely disappearing as the focus kept moving. It lowered down, allowing her to see the burgundy sheets falling over the edge of the bed, heading to its corner and moving back to the center, where she was able to see a pair of athletic thighs, covered with some black slacks, manspreading with a hand falling lazily in the center. She tried to pay attention to the tattoos on the reverse and his fingers, but the light moved before she was able to. It w bent back to the opposite side of the headboard, moving to the right steadily. His eyes were black and fierce, as if he knew he'd be able to do whatever he wanted to her. There wasn't a glimpse of good intentions on the looks he was giving her.

The way he already had his eyes on her, and how he even moved them lower over her body, made Y/n aware that, unlike her, he was indeed able to see her across the darkness. Y/n thought she'd be able to reach the climax merely with the way he was looking at her.

To him, she was his prey, cornered and trapped, and he was the beast ready to jump at her.

The corners of his doe eyes wrinkled for a second, as if he finally thought what he was going to do to her.

Y/n's pulse quickened as she stood frozen, unsure if she should move toward him or run. Each flicker of light illuminated just enough to make her breath catch in her throat, but not enough to see him fully. His figure seemed almost unreal, like a phantom on the edge of her consciousness, tethered to the shadows. Then, just as suddenly as the dream had begun, the light vanished, plunging her back into darkness. The only light in the room disappeared, leaving her lost, momentarily blind.

She was hopeful the light would shine again and would fall on him, that was why her eyes didn't move a centimeter from where she last saw his eyes. But when the light came back, starting to move over the spot where he was sitting, there was no one else anymore. The sheets looked messy, and they had the subtle shape of his lower body, confirming her he was indeed there in front of her and it wasn't made up.

It felt disappointing for her. Because it was all getting started, and the moment she was calming herself down to speak, encouraging herself to make a sound, he vanished without saying a word.

Her body squirmed involuntarily when a warm touch over the side of her tank top, feeling a palm almost cover her ribs.

His breathing was calm, slow, relaxing and warm when falling in her ear, feeling like an enchant that took over her body easily. Her neck fell to the side, and her eyes closed, handing him all the power he wanted to have over her.

—Were you looking for me? —never a voice had sounded so sensual and melodic, yet so deep and masculine at the same time.

The way his warm breathing coated her right ear, while his voice hypnotized her out of her control made her nipples harden under the thin white fabric.

She hadn't seen his face completely, she didn't know his intentions, and she for sure was in a dangerous place, but she was ready to do whatever he asked her to.

His hand expanded to her belly, with his pinky finger ghosting over the elastic of her shorts. He still didn't stop, but his touch was gentle on her, venturing himself lower while giving her time to mentalize what was going to happen, caressing her body as if he had touched it many times before. His finger played with the edge of her shorts, digging lower and directly moving through her underwear. He didn't ask for permission, he didn't need to. It was as if her consent had been agreed beforehand, long before she showed up there, lost in danger.

Her lip was trapped under her teeth when his mouth moved over her sensitive skin, looking for that same reaction he got from her.

—Then you already found me.

His body pressed against her back, while his hand dud lower, digging his fingers to reach her clit.

—Who are you?

But he didn't answer, he twirled his digits around her bundle of nerves, leaving her with a loud gasp escaping her mouth, and that transferred to reality.

She woke up instantly, in the middle of a heavy breath that forced her to sit on the bed. Her heart was pounding against her chest, aiming to break her rib cage while her whole body was craving a touch that wasn't even real, a touch in her dream so vivid that she was sure she'd feel for days.

Y/n looked around in her studio, confused at being there for a few seconds, trying to understand that everything that happened was just a dream. Despite being home, she still had the feeling of being somewhere else just seconds ago. As if she had been able to teleport without knowing it.

That dream felt way too vivid and real to only be part of her imagination.

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explicit-tae · 1 year ago

Text

Metamorphosis (2/2)

A look into your demonic pregnancy leading up to you giving birth to your and Jungkook's son - and prior to being dragged to Hell. Part 1 | Alternative Universe Masterlist | Halloween Masterlist

Word Count: 8.494

Warning: mentions of blood, blood drinking/cannibalism, character death, animal death, blood drinking, kissing, fingering, mentions of oral sex, pregnant sex,

NINE MONTHS BEFORE DRAGGED TO HELL

“Pregnant?” your mother nods her head slowly. Her eyes move from your face to your stomach. There isn’t a bump, and if there was, it’d be far too small to notice from afar.

“Yeah.” you murmur.

Your mother wasn’t the judgment type - she, after all, didn’t live an ideal life. She dealt with the looks often when you were a child besides her wife (your mother before she passed) at church or other places.

However, it wasn’t her judgment that you were worried about - it was mainly your own. You wouldn’t tell your mother that you were pregnant by a demon and was now carrying his seed. You hated yourself and your unfortunate life events enough.

“One night stand?” your mother asks you. She now has a worried look on her face. “Unless you have a boyfriend…?”

You’re unsure what to tell her. Jungkook was not just a one-night stand - you see the man every night (unfortunately). But if you did tell her that Jungkook was your boyfriend to avoid feeling even more stupid, then she’d ask to meet him. And that’s not something you’re sure you wanted - you and Jungkook were not a family. He was a demon that forced you into this situation of carrying his demonic seed.

You swallow and your mother doesn’t press the issue any longer.

“You’re keeping it, I assume?”

You didn’t want to. “Yes.”

Your mother knits her brows. “You don’t look excited.” She wants to joke, but the tension is noticeable. “Don’t go through with this if you aren’t ready, Y/N.”

You want to scoff at her ignorance. She didn’t know that you’ve already tried to get rid of the demonic seed - and said seed had killed your doctor right before you. You’re unsure what it’ll do to you if you tried to kill it once more, even if it did need you to survive for now.

“But if you do, you know I’m always here for you.”

Your heart thumps out your chest.

You don’t want your mother to be a part of your pregnancy journey - not because you didn’t love her or want to share this moment. But because you didn’t want her to get attached to this demonic child. You didn’t want her to be hurt by it, either.

“I know.” you tell her, a sullen look upon your face.

A strained smile, appearing more like a grimace, is what your mother gives you in return. She doesn’t want to pry into your life any more than she needs to. You’re an adult and could make your own decisions. It was her responsibility to be there for you when you needed her to be.

“Are you hungry? I have some fruit in the fridge that I just cut.”

You nod your head. One thing you’ve noticed was your growing appetite. Pregnancy cravings wouldn’t be like this if you were pregnant with a human fetus. You always felt hungry or thirsty, appetite never truly satiated.

“I’m going to go get dinner started since that’s what you’ve come for.” your mother snickers. She lifts up from the kitchen table and makes her way towards the fridge. She grasps the large bowl of fruit. She grabs you a spoon and makes her way back towards you.

“Thank you.” you hum, stomach rumbling. “I’m gonna go watch something.” you tell her before making your way out of the kitchen, bowl in hand.

You do exactly that. You begin to eat the fruit rapidly, humming with satisfaction. If you could look at yourself now, you’d be certain that you looked like a starving pathetic mess.

“Oh shit.” you hiss.

It’s been about 15 minutes and you just noticed that you ate all of the fruit. The spoon you once had has long been discarded and you ate with your hands, snatching the slippery fruit and shoving it in your mouth.

Licking your lips, your face burns with self pity and embarrassment. More so because you were still hungry, as sad as it sounded.

Your right hand touches the empty bowl and you shriek when the bowl suddenly disappears, but in its place is a plate of raw meat - a large bloody steak. You slam the plate down onto the coffee table with wide eyes.

You lift yourself from the couch and make your way down the hall to the bathroom. You slam the door shut behind you and fall to your knees to vomit right into the toilet. The amount would be alarming if you haven’t already grown accustomed to doing so daily.

“Our son is a part of you now.”

You feel a hand on the top of your back, gently rubbing circles. You would be startled if this wasn’t something Jungkook did often. He would creep into your life whenever you were alone - and sometimes you swore you could hear him in your thoughts even when he wasn’t there.

“You shouldn’t ignore his preferences.”

You spit into the toilet a final time then flush. “Raw meat is not a preference.” you hissed. “It sounds like he wants to kill me.”

Jungkook watches as you rinse your mouth out, leaning against the bathroom wall. “You aren’t going to die.”

“I’m human. Unlike you. Or this thing you put inside of me.”

Jungkook blinks, lips in a thin line. “Our son.”

You glance into the mirror to look at Jungkook. His crimson eyes are staring right at you and he isn’t amused.

“You feel sick because our son feels everything you do.” Jungkook takes a step closer.

“Hatred and self-pity?” you snort.

Once again, Jungkook isn’t amused.

“Nothing is going to kill you. Not raw meat, not our son or me.” Jungkook speaks. “You’re basically immortal until you give birth. Each day our son grows stronger and you would temporarily gain his powers.”

You feel like vomiting again at the thought of being able to conjure raw meat - all because the child prefers it.

“Turn around, my beautiful human.”

You exhale a breath and turn towards Jungkook. At your actions, he grins down at you. A hand places itself onto your cheek.

“Having powers is new to you. Humans are so weak.” Jungkook chuckles.

“I don’t want any powers.” you tell Jungkook. Maybe if you were a child wishing to fly or be invincible - but this was not that. You could feel yourself changing everyday and it frightened you. This was real - you were pregnant with a demon fetus by a demon who refused to leave you alone.

“You’ll have to adjust. For our son.” Jungkook traces your lips with his thumb and you hate the way your heart jolts at his actions. “How do you feel right now?”

You swallow.

Your stomach no longer churned and you didn’t have the urge to vomit. The fear, nausea and anxiety were slowly drifting away as if the weight of the world were no longer on your shoulders, even if you knew deep down that your situation was completely against your control.

“Hm.” Jungkook hums, tilting his head. He can read your thoughts, after all. “Like I know. You feel better because I’m here. Our son feels at ease when I’m around.”

Jungkook drops his hand from your face to your stomach. There was nothing for him to touch, no bump. Yet and still, he does.

You feel warm, a strange sensation flowing through you.

You inhale.

“Our son can never fully feel at ease with just you because he understands how you feel about him. The disgust, the anger. Hatred.” Jungkook is whispering now, as if trying to speak to just you and not the unborn fetus. “You’ll adjust, my beautiful human. All you have to do is give in. Stop thinking about just you and think about our son.”

You want to roll your eyes. Jungkook was guilt tripping you - and you were falling for it. He was right. Whenever Jungkook was with you, you never felt anything but comfort. You weren’t constantly in your own thoughts thinking about your situation. The fetus was demonic and therefore is more advanced than a human child at its stage.

‘He.’ Jungkook pipes in, entering your mind. His crimson eyes burning into your own. ‘Refer to our son as he, not an it.’

You sigh.

“You’re hungry.” Jungkook speaks and you’re unsure if he’s talking to you or the fetus. His hand gently rubs your stomach. “You can’t just eat what you usually do. Remember your body is changing. You’re feeding a demon.”

You grimace. The thought of eating raw meat disgusts you. Not only because it’s raw and bloody - but because the aroma entices you. It makes your mouth water and you want nothing more than to sink your teeth inside of it.

“You eat raw meat?” you question meekly.

Jungkook nods. “I eat everything.”

That statement alone frightens you.

“Don’t give me that look.” Jungkook chuckles low at your expression. “I can feed off of anything. You feed me all the time.”

You’re hot at his response and you want to push him away.

Jungkook only comes closer to you. “As a demon, I do not need to physically eat to be fed. You feed me with sex, yes. But you also feed me with your aura, emotions. I can go out and do the same with other humans. They won’t satiate me because they aren’t you, so I don’t.” Jungkook turns you around once more so you can face the mirror. He embraces you from behind, grasping your hand and placing it upon your stomach, his large hand on top yours.

“I cannot tell you what I do as a demon, because then you’ll be frightened of me.” And Jungkook has already gotten you used to his presence and he refuses to go back to you being disgusted with him (prior and after sex, never during). “But I feed off of human’s fear and negativity.”

There’s a sharp pain in your rib and you hiss slightly. Another thing you’d have to get used to. The fetus had strength like no other. The amount of times you woke in the middle of the night to it - he - kicking you was insane.

“If I feel like sinking my teeth into something. I can feed off of human food, yet it’ll never satiate me enough. Just like you, eating human food will never satisfy our son.” Jungkook rubs your stomach, his palm warm. The sharp pains stop and you ponder if it’s something Jungkook was doing.

“You’re going to be disgusted because you are not yet a demon.” The word yet doesn’t fly past your ears, but you allow Jungkook to continue. “But as our son grows, so will your appetite. You’ll crave more than raw meat.”

“What else do demons eat?” You’re afraid to ask, especially looking at Jungkook’s soft smile through the mirror's reflection.

“Blood. Both animal and human.”

Your throat tightens.

“Demons also consume humans raw or they can be cooked.”

Your mouth salivates and your eyes begin to water. You want to vomit at his words. The thought of the child being so hungry that you consume human meat and blood…

But then as you think about it, you’re even more frightened by how hungry you’re beginning to feel at the thought of it.

Jungkook places his chin on your shoulder and smirks. Slowly, you were going to come around. As a human, you were naturally weak and simple minded - but you’d change. You’d eventually come to trust him and love the child growing inside of you. You were a woman after all, and women tend to be nurturing and loving.

“You can even drink my blood.”

Your brow knit together at Jungkook’s words.

“Some demons also feed on other demons. That’s more of a power gaining way, however, it’s still possible. Since you are bound to me, it’ll be more of an intimate type of way.” Jungkook speaks. He holds your gaze in the mirror, not faltering.

“Is this another way for you to have my soul or something?” Drinking a demon's blood was not something you’ve ever heard of, but it had to be more than what Jungkook was letting on.

Jungkook chuckles. You were smart, he thinks. However, humans could never be as smart as a demon. “Your soul already belongs to me. As does your body, mind, heart and your womb.” But, you’d come to love and trust him a little quicker if he had his blood flowing through you.

You sigh in defeat.

“Would you like to try it?”

You swallow and shake your head.

Jungkook hums. “Afraid you’d like it?”

Yes. “No.” you quip. “I-I…I’m human.” you blink away to avoid his eyes. “It’s just too much to handle right now.”

“You cannot keep starving our son. How about you eat the steak first and get accustomed to animal blood. Then we’ll transition from there.”

EIGHT MONTHS BEFORE DRAGGED TO HELL

“That’s what I needed to talk to you about. I can’t stay.”

Your boss slowly turns to look at you. “Why not?”

“I told you I can no longer do any overtime.” you murmur.

You were slowly accepting the fact that you were pregnant by Jungkook and though he was a demon, you suppose it had perks to it.

One of the perks was conjuring, as Jungkook put it. Your son was growing rapidly as was his powers. You were able to conjure up whatever he desired, and also whatever you did. But sometimes it was something you could not control. You recall sitting at your desk thinking about how thirsty you were and had been shocked when in front of you sat a gallon of water. You sat embarrassed when you drunk the entirety of it in under five minutes.

Being pregnant also meant you were always hungry and tired, the demonic child completely draining you at times. You only felt energy when Jungkook was around and holding you. You’re positive he was using his own demonic powers to give you energy, but you never asked and he never confirmed anything.

With furrowed brows, your boss scoffs. “It’s not like you have anything else to do.”

You blink.

“You’re single and pregnant.” your boss continues and now you’re taken aback. “Don’t you think you need the money?”

You can feel your blood boiling. The office was getting empty by the minute, your co-workers all scattering off. You would stay late with your boss to do extra work at times, but it was never mandatory. You were always getting pushed over and were far too nice to tell your boss to fuck off.

“I…” you’re unsure what to say. “Who says I’m single?”

That’s seriously what you’re upset about, being assumed a single mother? But you couldn’t help it. You wore a ring for heaven's sake - sure it was given to you by a demon, but it was still a ring! You’re unsure if Jungkook meant what he said about the two of you being married - again, demon and human. You and he were nod wed at a church like you always imagined you’d be, but you were bound together.

Your boss snickers once more.

“Well I never see a man pick you up. Your lunches are often spent alone. I don’t judge, Y/N. Single mothers are all around the world.”

You shake your head at your boss's words.

“If anything, if you are dating someone, the guys an asshole for allowing you to work while pregnant anyways-”

Your boss suddenly screams. You flinch away from him with wide eyes as your boss is engulfed in flames. Literal flames. The pale blue and orange flames engulf him entirely, the smell of burning flesh meets your nostrils.

The fire alarm is loud, and soon you’re being wet due to the sprinkles above you. You're frozen and your eyes are wide with shock and fear. The loud screams echo in your ears and all you can do is watch as your boss lays onto the ground.

The scenery changes in an instant and you’re no longer in the office, but your bedroom. You swallow, shuddering.

“My beautiful human…”

Jungkook appears before you. He frowns at your appearance.

“You’re wet.” Jungkook hums. “And trembling. You’re probably wondering what’s wrong.”

You sob, utterly confused at what in the world that just transpired in a matter of seconds. Your knees buckle and when you feel as if you’re going to fall to your knees, Jungkook catches you.

“I told you that our son will get stronger as time goes on.” Jungkook speaks, tone soft. “You will gain his power and if it isn’t controlled, it will be unruly.”

You gasp.

Oh no.

“I-I did that?” you’re horrified.

Jungkook wants to coo at your innocence. “Of course you did. Our son played a big role. He doesn’t like when anyone bad-talks his parents.”

Jungkook's expression shows that of a proud father, but you’re more terrified than anything else.

“You also wanted to.” Jungkook continues. “You felt it in you, right? The way your blood boiled. The anger.”

You snap your eyes shut. You never wanted to hurt anyone before, but Jungkook was correct. The anger you felt at your bosses words - how you were assumed to be a single mother that just needed the money because of that reason. How sinister your boss spoke to you - as if you weren’t a human that deserved decency.

“It’s okay, my beautiful human.” Jungkook rubs your back to calm you. He can sense the rise in your heart beat. “You’ve done what you thought was right. Give in to it.”

You swallow. “I-I…I don’t think I can go back.”

“You don’t need to.” Jungkook assures. “What are you working for when everything can be provided for you by me?”

“I do have bills.” you retort.

Jungkook snorts. “Bills are something humans created out of boredom. That isn’t something you have to worry about.” Jungkook leans away to have a look at you. “How about you come live with me?”

You flinch away from him. “In Hell?” you appear as if Jungkook’s hands burned you by the way you smacked them away.

“Don’t be foolish, Y/N. I won’t be taking you to Hell.” Yet, Jungkook thinks. “Demons do have to hide in the human realm. I have a home where I often stay while on Earth.”

You blink.

You never thought about where Jungkook goes when he isn’t with you. You always assumed he went to Hell - how he got there you weren’t sure. Yet again, he came and went as he pleased whenever he wanted to.

“It’ll be easier for me to keep an eye on you. You don’t have to work. Don’t want you burning the whole place down, do we?”

Jungkook’s attempts at a joke isn’t amusing. You have never been more terrified in your life, and knowing now that you were the reason for it sends shivers up your spine.

“I guess so.”

Jungkook smiles at you, a smile that meant more than you were looking into.

SEVEN MONTHS BEFORE DRAGGED TO HELL

“Isn’t it cute?” your mother beams as she holds up the small article of clothing.

You swallow, grasping it in your hands. It’s a baby’s onesie - one that’s soft at the touch and so small that it causes your heart to swell. It’s gray, your mother’s attempt to be gender neutral, and comes with a little hat.

“Have you gone to see what the gender is?” your mother asks you.

You blink up from the onesie and slowly nod your head.

You haven’t gone, of course. You had put all of your trust into Jungkook - a part of you screaming that it was a bad idea. However, you didn’t need your son (or you) killing anyone else.

Jungkook assured that the baby was safe and the happiest he’s ever felt. You moved in with Jungkook - shocked to see that he lived in a secluded estate deep in a forested area - and never truly had to worry about anything. You had an unlimited amount of food - even raw meat supplied by your son - and always rested for as long as you wanted; going as far as sleeping a full 24 hours.

“It’s a boy.” you murmur.

Your mother’s eyes widened and slowly, so did her smile. She suddenly wraps you in a tight embrace - a sudden one. You were frightened by the suddency of it. You didn’t want the baby to assume she was attempting to hurt you and have your mother fall to the same fate as the doctor and your boss.

“That’s so lovely.” your mother exclaims during her hug. When she releases you, you sigh in relief. “A boy is a blessing.”

You could only give a soft smile.

“Come. Let’s look for more clothing now that I know I’m having a grandson.”

Your mothers excitement is refreshing. You try not to think of the future when you give birth. If the baby had such strength and power while not being born, you can imagine what he would be like just as a newborn or a toddler. The thought often keeps you wondering, even if Jungkook assures you that everything would be alright.

Your mother was right about one thing. When she dragged you from her home while visiting her to a baby boutique, she said it would bring you joy to buy things for the baby. She recalls the times she did the same for you before you were born, both of your mothers joyfully picking out everything pink and girly - just for you to soon get tired of the bright colors; how ironic.

Your hand places itself onto the bump of your stomach - that has since grown in size. You’re positive that normal women weren’t this size at just three months, but you would have to remind yourself that your circumstances weren’t the same as anyone else's.

In your free hand is an all black pajama onesie. It’s basic, nothing truly special about it. There was no graphic or letter on it, however it caught your attention.

You feel a kick on your lower stomach, and you snort. “You like it, too?” you murmur to the child, the hand on your stomach gently rubbing. “You’ll look a lot like your father if you wore this. All black…”

Your body feels warm; euphoric. You shudder at the unfamiliar feeling. Your skin litters with goosebumps and your heart begins to jolt. Your mind blanks for a moment, and it’s as though you’re no longer in the boutique. You glance up from the onesie, completely still at the sight before you. It was an outer body experience, as if you’re watching yourself through a lens.

Humming, a low familiar tone you recall your own mothers humming to you. You see yourself, arms occupied with a baby as you rock said baby back and forth, humming the familiar tune to calm him down. The baby’s eyes are open and it’s then that you recognize the crimson eyes that are similar to Jungkook.

“Are you okay?”

When you blink, it’s as if the world comes back to normal. The soft music in the boutique continues, and you’re now looking at your mother.

What in the world just happened?

“Yeah.” you nod your head.

“Is that all you’re getting?”

You shake your head. “No. Just thinking…” you murmur.

Your mother doesn’t pry and you’re thankful for that.

‘Our son is communicating with you.’

Jungkook’s voice rings through your head. Your eyes glance around the boutique and you ponder where he could be at.

‘I’m not here, beautiful human. I still have access to you even if you are not with me.’

That explains things.

‘Our son has found a way to communicate with you. He’s telling you that he’s happy.’

You glance at your mother for a moment.

‘Didn’t you feel the euphoria run through you? Your mood has changed and now you’re glowing, my beautiful human. You see what happens when you accept the product of our bond?’

Everyday there’s something new with the child. You’ve already conjured whatever you desired, set someone on fire and a few times found yourself instant transferring yourself somewhere. Jungkook called the action ‘blinking’ and you could only do it a couple feet away, however you did it regardless. Now knowing that the fetus is communicating with you sends shivers up your spine.

Later on that night, you find yourself in the forest area. The sun has since set and you were alone. You’re unsure where Jungkook was, but you never dwelled on it. He always returned right before you went to bed.

In any other situation, you’d be frightened to walk alone at night - especially in such a secluded area. However, it was as if fear was slowly removing itself from your life. You recall Jungkook’s words from months prior. You were immortal now in a way. Whatever threat your son felt was eliminated and a deep part of you feels liberated about it.

Your head snaps when you hear a sound like leaves rustling. Your eyes squint, the only source of light is the moon above.

It appears to be the size of a dog, you note. You’ve never seen a fox up close before. Its fur is an auburn color and its eyes stare right at you, unmoving.Suddenly, its tail begins to move, the thick bushy swooping back and forth.

You take a step closer and, alerted, the fox begins to flee.

Your mind doesn’t register what you’re doing. Your feet already pick up and now you’re chasing the fast animal. Your speed astonishes you. You’re pregnant, appearing more far along into pregnancy then what you actually were. You don’t recall when you’ve ever run this fast in your life.

In a matter of seconds, your scenery changes and you’re in front of the fox, startling it. Your fingers dig into the thick fur of the fox and you fall to your knees. You aren’t aware of what you’re doing, not even when your teeth - now sharp and canine like - sink into the foxes neck.

You don’t register the screeching the fox does when you repeatedly sink your teeth into it, blood splatting onto your clothing, hands and face. The taste hits your mouth and you’re unable to stop the feast, the blood hitting your throat and satiating a thirst you weren’t aware you held.

Only when the animal was drained did you realize what you’ve done - and what you could possibly look like now. Your eyes widened and you began to shake. Suddenly, right beside the drained dead fox, did you vomit.

SIX MONTHS BEFORE DRAGGED TO HELL

You cried and cried and cried that night you killed an animal with your bare hands. And now, a month later, you continue to cry as you’re covered in animal blood. You’re disgusted with how good it tastes and how willing you are to keep doing it.

“You’re going to have to stop crying eventually.” Jungkook dips the ring he has given you underneath the running water. “You’re feeding our son. You should never feel saddened about that.”

“I killed it with my bare hands!” you wail, hiccuping. Your stomach churns for even more blood - your son just wants to mock you, you’re sure.

Jungkook turns off the water and sighs. He places the ring to dry on a paper towel before turning to you.

“As you should. Our son needs to eat.” Jungkook takes a few steps closer to your weeping figure. “Come on, my beautiful human. Let’s go bathe.”

Bathing with Jungkook was something he insisted on doing every once in a while - he understands it calms you down, even when you won’t admit it.

The shower and the tub are separate and the water is warm upon entering. You feel self-conscious about your naked body at times, it was growing hard to see your own feet or anything below you as you walked. But you were making the most of your situation.

The water running down the drain is red, obviously due to the animal that you slaughtered and ate. You rub along your skin with the warm water and sigh when you feel yourself slowly start to calm down.

You feel a cold substance on your shoulders and you shudder. Then, there’s hands - Jungkook’s - rubbing along them. You sigh, melting into his touch. For a moment, it’s silent and neither of you say anything. The shower water slaps against the floor as Jungkook’s hands work along your neck.

“Our son is getting stronger.” Jungkook says. “His hunger will grow as he does. You can’t keep crying each time you kill an animal.”

Your head falls back against Jungkook’s chest and you sigh. “I know.” you say, but it didn’t make things any better. “I just feel bad afterwards.”

“You eat meat all the time.” Jungkook snorts.

“That I don’t have to kill!” you retort.

Jungkook is silent and you take it upon yourself to finish your shower, making sure to wash every inch of you until you’re satisfied. Once you were, you turned towards Jungkook to find that he also had been washing. His eyes are on you, and slowly, a smile forms onto his lips.

“Let’s bathe.” he says, rinsing himself off.

Jungkook doesn’t allow any retorts. With a flick of a hand, the shower turns off and the bath - around 10 feet away from the shower - turns on. You watch as he sits inside the bath, back against the cold tub. “Come.” he says.

You roll your eyes, but comply.

“Don’t face me.” Jungkook says. “I want us both to relax.”

Relaxing means your back against Jungkook’s chest while he lays a hand upon your bump. It’s like your son always knows when Jungkook’s near, you can see just how your stomach shifts wildly.

“Would it be better if I killed the animals for you?” Jungkook asks suddenly. His hands rub another part of your stomach to meet the baby’s kicks and it looks like a game between the two.

You shrug your shoulders. “Not really sure what the difference is. I’m still going to feel sad about it.”

“You humans are fragile.” Jungkook snorts. “The difference is you wouldn’t have to be so bloody at the end of it all.”

“I suppose you’re right.” you hum, but you didn’t want to talk about that anymore. The water is the perfect temperature and it relaxes your nerves throughout. Whatever game your child and Jungkook was playing seemed to die down, he was no longer kicking or punching.

“My beautiful human…”

You feel Jungkook’s lips on your neck, placing soft kisses. You’re already knowing what the man wants, especially when his hand dips down from your bump to between your legs.

“Should’ve known this was just an excuse to get between my legs.” you acknowledged.

You feel a tickle from Jungkook’s breath, a chuckle at your response. “The same legs that are widening for me to gain more access?”

Jungkook had a point, you think. There’s a hand gripping your breast while the other begins to play with your clit. You bite your lip at the feeling.

It’s crazy to think how domesticated you became. You no longer shied away from Jungkook when it came to sex - because it was inevitable. He was going to take you regardless if you denied him or not; the hot throbbing feeling between your legs growing needier by the second if you hadn’t.

Not only with sex, but you became happy to see Jungkook - as if he wasn’t a demon fated to ruin your human life. You wake up with Jungkook by your side, a hand on your stomach. You and he ate together - what human food you could tolerate - and you didn’t feel like being with him was a burden.

Your son was happiest when Jungkook was around, too. The kicks that would send shockwaves through your body only ever happened when the man was close - it was how you knew Jungkook was near before he made his presence known.

“I can never keep my hands from you, my beautiful human.” Jungkook steadies two fingers inside of you. “You’re glowing.”

You snicker, but it’s died down with a moan. Jungkook begins to pump inside of you, the splashing of the water evident with the pace he’s going.

“Our son is sucking all the life out of me.” you retort. You never looked like yourself. There were times you’d look in the mirror and swear you’d seen a ghost - and even the faintest crimson color in your eyes.

Jungkook freezes, his kissing on your neck coming to a halt.

“What’s wrong?” you question, ready to remove yourself from him when Jungkook brings you back.

“This is the first time you called him our son.” Jungkook says, a small smirk forming onto his lips against your skin. Slowly, you were adjusting to the changes Jungkook had forced upon you - like you should be.

“Not like you gave me a choice.” you murmur in defense. “I stopped calling him an it months ago.”

You have, but to hear you say our son like you have is different, but the demon doesn’t dwell on it, he had a job to do, and it was to make you cum.

TWO MONTHS BEFORE DRAGGED TO HELL

The first time you’ve tried human blood had your taste buds going crazy - you swore you’ve never tasted anything as savory before. You never wanted anything else afterwards, and if you did, it had to be drenched in human blood.

The raw streak you ate had a blood bag of human blood, obtained by Jungkook who always satiated your thirst for blood.

There was a time in which you ate fries with a side of human blood because ketchup couldn’t satisfy you or your son.

Jungkook likes to watch you eat - enjoys feeling his son's demonic aura. You’ve grown in size, far larger than a human pregnancy. His son was large; small hand and foot prints pushing against your stomach to be released.

Jungkook likes to watch you eat because now you no longer cared about how you looked. Your appearance took a slight change - thanks to the child. Your eyes matched his own, the crimson color. Your face appeared more full, as did your breast - an action he wasn’t opposed to.

You now fully embraced that you were birthing a demon and you’d remain by his side for eternity - and now that you’ve accepted the fact, it made things easier.

“Damn it.” your mother curses, dropping the sharp knife she was holding. It clunks against the ground, droplets of blood falling besides it.

Your eyes zone in on your mother clenching her finger. This was the first time she was in your home - she insisted on cooking for you and Jungkook as this was the first time she’s been meeting him.

The iron smell of your mothers blood reaches your nostrils and there’s a low groan that releases from your lips.

‘No.’ you tell yourself. ‘Not her.’

You swallow. “Are you okay?”

Your mother snickers. “Yeah. Just cut myself. Let me get this cleaned up.”

Your mother turns on the faucet to clean the blood from her finger. You release a sigh, placing a hand upon your stomach. Your son is moving, obviously having sensed the human blood near.

‘I can’t eat her.’ you tell your son, stern with your choice. The fetus is upset, sending a few kicks against your spine, but you were adamant.

“Is everything alright?”

Jungkook blinks into the room on que, thankfully your mother had her back turned.

‘Why is our son trying to break your back?’ Jungkook asks you, his eyes on your face. But before you can answer, he eyes your mother and can smell the blood.

“Luckily for you,” Jungkook places a white cup with a lid and straw in your hand and gives you a wink. “I’ve brought refreshments.”

Your mother loves Jungkook - who knows demons can make break impressions. She had not suspected he was anything but human and you’ve noted that this was the first time you saw Jungkook had dark eyes instead of the crimson ones.

You’ve never seen Jungkook interact with anyone that wasn’t you and the act appeared…human like. He ate your mothers cooking, he complimented it. He laughed and joked with your mother and oftentimes would place a hand on your bump when your son was craving more than what your mother cooked.

“I think you two are good together.” your mother says at the door while she wraps you in a hug. “You look…happy. So alive.”

You laugh. “Do I?” you aren’t sure if you can call it thought. You were drinking human blood to satisfy the demon growing inside of you.

“Yes. You’re glowing.” your mother takes a look at you with a soft smile. “I haven’t seen this glow since…”

You know where she’s going, but she doesn't say it. She doesn’t wish to ruin a happy moment between the two of you.

Once your mother is gone, you’re left with Jungkook. He snaps his fingers and the dishes in the sink are gone.

“I can’t believe he was trying to break my back.” you sigh, placing a hand on your stomach. There’s no movement, probably means he was relaxed now after all the mayhem he was causing earlier.

“Yes.” Jungkook places a hand on the top of your bump. “It would’ve healed automatically. Still a stubborn one.”

Like father like son, you think, and all Jungkook can do is hum in agreement.

Sex with Jungkook became a habit - more now than ever. You never questioned him when he said he found you irresistible. You looked ready to explode and you never had any true stamina to help - but Jungkook never cared. He always insisted on eating you out until you’re squirming, suckling on your clit as if his demonic life depended on it.

Even now as you allow Jungkook to fuck into you while you were on top, Jungkook couldn’t help but want to coo at your thoughts - and give you what you want.

‘You can bite me, my beautiful human. It won’t hurt.’

You flush hot when you hear Jungkook in your head - that meant he was listening in to what you were thinking. Yet, you shouldn’t be alarmed because he did it so often.

And all you were thinking about was biting him, your mind flooding with his words of months prior. How drinking his blood would be intimate for the both of you.

And now you didn’t care, no longer feeling the disgust as you did months ago. Your teeth gradually sink into the skin of Jungkook’s neck and you bite harshly until you feel the taste of irony on your tongue.

The act alone causes Jungkook to fuck into you harder, fingers bruising into your hips. He grunts a few swear words as your tongue licks upon the bleeding wound. If your former self could see you now - willingly sucking on Jungkook’s neck for any type of blood while he fucks you to his heart (did demons have hearts?) content.

Jungkook’s eyes marvel at you, blood - his blood - trailing down your chin. Your eyes resembled his own (side-effects of the pregnancy) and you appeared to be like a true demon.

‘My beautiful wife.’ Only slightly does your eyes widen from hearing Jungkook in your mind and you’re beginning to think you were hearing things - but you weren’t. This was the first time Jungkook had called you his wife - not beautiful human, but his wife.

Jungkook wraps you in an embrace to bring you closer to him, his lips on your chest. His own teeth sink into you, quivering with pleasure when your blood hits his tongue. His thrusts never stop, not until you’re cumming around him so beautifully and he does the same inside of you.

ONE MONTH BEFORE DRAGGED TO HELL

“I’m trying.” Jimin grits his teeth at the younger demon. “You’ve been gone for months, Kook. They’re asking questions.”

“Then tell them something to make them stop asking questions.” Jungkook hisses back.

“They’re not going to stop asking questions.” Taehyung’s voice sounds from behind Jungkook. “There’s been rumors.”

“Rumors?” Jungkook furrows a brow and scoffs. “What rumors-”

“The infamous Jungkook has grown soft in the Human realm.” Jimin announced, a teasing tone in his voice. “You haven’t been back to the Underworld in so long they’re beginning to think you found someone here.”

“Have you?” Taehyung asks, blinking besides Jimin, to lean against the wall of his kitchen. “Don’t give me that look, Kook…it’s just a question.”

“I’ve been working.”

“On?” Jimin questions.

“Why is it any of your concern?”

“You’ve always told us.” Taehyung retorts. “It’s not like you to leave the Brotherhood without as much as a word.”

“I’m not leaving the Brotherhood.” Jungkook scoffs. “I have business to attend to here.”

“What’s that?” Jimin stands from his seat, eyes roaming around the room. “Do you feel that?”

Jungkook swallows, tongue in his cheek. His son always had the perfect timing to be awake and showcasing whatever power he had.

“Yeah.” Taehyung glances at Jungkook. “It’s faint but-”

Jimin blinks away and Jungkook already knows where he’s going. He does the same, leaving Taehyung stunned and in the kitchen.

Jungkook is in front of your sleeping figure before Jimin is, eyes glaring at the older demon.

“Well…” Jimin’s eyes are on you - more so your stomach. “Looks like the child wants out.” the tiny foot and hand prints are pushing against your stomach and not once did you stir, having grown used to it over the months.

“You…” Taehyung eyes you sleeping soundly upon the bed and then back to Jungkook. “...asshole-”

“She’s asleep.” Jungkook hisses, lowering the tone in his own voice. As his son grew, he was growing restless, wanting out of you. He rarely allows you to sleep and now that you were able to, Jungkook wasn’t going to allow his brothers to ruin it.

“Are we going to ignore the obvious child in her stomach?” Jimin murmurs, eyeing your sleeping figure with a moving stomach. “How is she not waking by that alone?”

“She’s grown used to it.” Jungkook glances behind himself at you. He only allows a slight grin before he turns back to his two brothers. “Are you done here?”

Jimin is the first to blink away, followed by Taehyung. Jungkook sighs then does the same, now inside the kitchen once more.

“When were you going to tell us you’re having a son?” Jimin is upset, now facing Jungkook.

“I’m so upset.” Taehyung shakes his head.

Jungkook tilts his head. “I have my reasons.” is all Jungkook says.

Jimin scoffs. “We have to be there when he’s born. It’s a tradition.” he says matter-of-factly. “This is your first son. A new member of the Brotherhood.”

Taehyung watches Jungkook’s reaction. He opens his mouth to speak but doesn’t say anything. “Does she not know you’re a demon?” he asks, yet he isn’t sure it’s that. You had to have known that you were pregnant with a non-human child - the fetus was attempting to claw its way out of you as they speak.

“She does.”

Jimin waves his hand. “Then why are you keeping her from us?”

“I’m not.” Jungkook grits.

“He doesn’t know.” Taehyung states. “That’s why you’re still in the Human realm.”

Jimin furrows his brows, glancing between Jungkook and Taehyung.

Jungkook pokes his tongue through his cheek. He inhales deeply and then nods his head.

The Source did not know what he was doing or where he was at - and Jungkook was doing everything in his power to keep it that way. He only returns to the Underworld to report back to the Source monthly like all the demons do; especially the upper-level ones such as himself and the Brotherhood.

A hybrid child is not unknown to the Underworld, but rarely did the human parent survive - most times being killed. Hybrid children were often used to blend into the Human world, most times coming off as “more” humanly than that of a full demon who would have to mask their appearance.

However, Jungkook was not just a demon, but an upper-level one that worked closely to the Source. And though his brothers were accepting of you and his son, that didn’t mean the rest of the Brotherhood would.

“We have to tell the others before they come upon themselves.”

“No.” Jungkook is certain in his choice. “You’ve already called me weak.” Jungkook didn’t want to know what they’d attempt to do if they found you to be a problem with his demonic duties or his power.

“It’s not up for debate.” Taehyung began. “Like Jimin said, this is your first son and we’ll have to be there. It’s a tradition.”

Jungkook knew that it was inevitable - especially now that Jimin and Taehyung knew. He was anticipating that the baby would be born before the Brotherhood intervened - now his plans have changed.

“You love the human.” Jimin states. “Obviously, the Brotherhood isn’t going to like that.” he chuckles, but at Jungkook’s hard stare, he lifts his hands. “But don’t worry. You have us.”

“They aren’t going to allow you to keep the Human.” Taehyung speaks realism and not what Jungkook wants to hear to spare whatever feelings he holds for you. “Humans bring human feelings and we cannot risk you growing weak because of her.”

“What are you saying?” Jungkook’s eyes are narrowed at Taehyung and the tension in the room grows by the second.

“I’m saying you need to get rid of the Human.” Taehyung speaks, and it’s as if a pin drops; the silence that comes after Jungkook speaks. “Once the baby is born.”

Jungkook doesn’t react that he wants to - the Brotherhood never attacks their own. But there’s something in his body that holds everything back for him to not attack Taehyung and it’s an act that begins to frighten him - because his brothers were correct. Humans did bring human emotions and if just the thought of you being harmed has Jungkook feeling like this, then you already had a target on your back to prevent a shift in the Brotherhood.

“You can’t kill her. Nor can I.” Jungkook speaks, eyes hard on Taehyung. “We’re already bound together. Brotherhood rule.”

Jimin snickers at his two bickering brothers, both standing tall and refusing to back down. “He’s right, Tae.” Jimin speaks. “The Brotherhood cannot harm or kill a fellow brother’s bound partner.”

Taehyung scoffs with a shake of his head. “How far the Brotherhood has fallen.” he announces. “I’m beginning to think the rumors of you becoming weak are true.”

Taehyung is gone in a blink of an eye, leaving Jungkook and Jimin to look where he once stood.

“Taehyung will come around.” Jimin sighs. He’s tired of being the mediator between you and Taehyung’s bickering. “I’ll make sure of it.”

Jungkook swallows. “Do tell the Brotherhood to not return until my child is expected to be born.”

Jimin sighs but nods. Jungkook begins to step away and out of his kitchen. “And do tell anyone in the Underworld to test the rumors if they believe them to be true.

“I gave you my word, Y/N. That we'll be together.”

The Underworld isn’t what you’ve expected. Hell is always explained to be a fiery pit - nothing but flames enclosing around you.

This was far from it.

The Underworld was dark, only light there was lit by candles - thousands of them lit. It’s quieter than you expected, as well. You were once told that Hell was home to evil spirits and those who’d died, forever screaming at their ultimate demise.

Then again, Jungkook was a demon and you were never told that demons can look god-like.

Your ears pick up on soft coos, your attention fully on the baby in Jungkook’s arms. He was no longer a newborn, but appeared a few months older.

Your heart swells.

“It wasn’t easy to find your soul, Y/N.” Jungkook speaks, his access to your mind remaining. “But I made you a promise.”

“Can I hold him?” you question. If you asked Jungkook too many questions about the Underworld, what he did and why he did it, you’d be here for an eternity. Your only focus was on your son.

Jungkook watches the way you hold the baby close to you, your nose against his puffed up cheeks. There’s a few more coos from his son, his aura calm and content to have be in your presence once more.

“Jungkook….”

The man stands straighter at the sound of his name leave from your lips.

“...I’m not a human anymore, am I?”

Jungkook gently shakes his head. “No.”

You’re silent for a moment. “And I can’t return back…home?”

“No.” Jungkook murmurs.

You hold the baby closer to you, never wanting to let him go.

“What about my mother?” you dare to ask, but you’re unsure if you truly want the truth.

Jungkook licks his lips. “Time is different in the Human realm than it is in the Underworld.” he speaks. “I was leaving the decision to you.”

You glance up from the baby - who is now slowly falling asleep - to Jungkook. “What do you mean?”

“I know how much you cared for her.” Jungkook begins. For the months he’s been with you, your love for your mother remained strong and the pregnancy never ruined the routined you held with her. “To make things easier for her, I can have her memory of you erased.”

You stiffen. “E-Erased?” you question. “As if I was never there?”

Jungkook nods.

You’re unsure what you want Jungkook to do.

You didn’t want your mother to be so heavily involved in your pregnancy. You didn’t know if you’d survive birthing a demon and you didn’t want your mother to lose you and her wife.

Yet, she already has and that thought alone pains you enough.

“I don’t want her to forget us.” you murmur - and maybe it was selfish of you. Your mother would live through such pain alone - the pain of losing her only child and a grandchild she could never meet. “I want her to think we’ve died in childbirth. Can you do that?” It was harsh, you’d admit, but it was your own selfish desire to keep your mother as close as you could.

Jungkook nods.

“And…you can compel people, right? You have to compel her to accept the fact that I’m gone so she doesn’t try to look further into it.” you hold your son tighter, your voice cracking as you begin to speak.

“I understand.” Jungkook says. “My beautiful wife…” he trails off, coming closer to place a hand upon your cheek. His touch is warm just as you remembered it to be. He offers you a short smile then blinking out of your sight before you can speak.

Divine Intervention (Taehyung Version)

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