#Wings Once Cursed And Bound
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Fall Special Edition Reading Challenge
Whoops! I've got a big TBR problem and a chunk of that is thanks to my love for special editions. The issue? I haven't read more than half of the SE's I own, and I can't keep allowing myself to purchase more when I don't even know if I like what I have. Plus I'm beyond out of space on my shelves and I think it's about time I start unhauling what I don't like instead of excusing their existence "because they're pretty."
So for this fall/autumn season, from September through November, I'm challenging myself to finish all 19 of my currently unread SE's and decide if they stay or if they go. Technically more books I preordered have arrived since taking these photos, and there are more to be delivered this fall, but I will not be forcing myself to include them.
Have you read any of these? If so, did you enjoy them? Are there some in here you want to read, but haven't had the chance yet?
Feel free to comment or tag the SE you like best just based on looks!
#reading#books#reading challenge#booklr#special edition#Wings Once Cursed And Bound#The Crown Of Oaths And Curses#Bonesmith#The Jasad Heir#Assistant To The Villain#Navola#The Sun And The Void#Ruthless Vows#A Crown Of Ivy And Glass#When The Moon Hatched#Piper J. Drake#J. Bree#Nicki Pau Preto#Sara Hashem#Hannah Nicole Maehrer#Paolo Bacigalupi#Gabriela Romero Lacruz#Rebecca Ross#Claire Legrand#Sarah A. Parker
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Title: Wings Once Cursed and Bound | Author: Piper J. Drake | Publisher: Sourcebooks Casablanca (2023)
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Reading Wings Once Cursed and Bound by Piper J. Drake and I'm so excited for kinnari to feature in a fantasy novel.
Kinnaris by Thammarat Kangwankong, Thailand
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Art from Wings Once Cursed and Bound
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REVIEW
WINGS ONCE CURSED AND BOUND (Mythwoven 1) by Piper J Drake at The Reading Cafe:
‘fated and tender romance’
http://www.thereadingcafe.com/wings-once-cursed-and-bound-by-piper-j-drake-a-review/
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"Recently, a wave of fresh paranormal romance books have hit the shelves. The real question is, which new books should you pick up?
Paranormal romance is a subgenre of romance that follows the HEA/HFN (happily ever after/ happy for now) arc of human, non-human, and/or superhuman characters. The paranormal beings involved could be ghosts, werewolves, vampires, witches, or other supernatural creatures of legend that slot into a paranormal version of our world. If it’s in a high fantasy otherworld or is a monster romance, I am following the judgment of fellow Book Riot writer Jessica Pryde in her paranormal romance recommendation list and disqualifying them from this round-up.
As a longtime fan of the genre, I have plenty of backlist recommendations and a carefully curated list of fresh paranormal romance books. Every book here was published in the last five years, between 2019 and 2024. As a general personal rule, I like my paranormal romance to have believable, well-developed characters and a plot that hooks me in. If either the love interests or plot are paper-thin, my attention swiftly drifts. So, if you are looking for a witch, werewolf, vamp, or otherwise paranormal being falling in love, I’ve decided these are the ones you should read."
#10 Fresh Paranormal Romance Reads#paranormal#paranormal romance#book recommendations#romance books#new paranormal book recs#Bitter Medicine by Mia Tsai#Lead Me Astray by Sondi Warner#Odd Blood by Azalea Crowley#Bride by Ali Hazelwood#From the Dark We Came by J. Emery#Resonance Surge by Nalini Singh#Wings Once Cursed & Bound by Piper J. Drake#Not Your Ex’s Hexes by April Asher#Pack of Lies by Charlie Adhara#Human Enough by E.S. Yu
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END GAME
PART ONE
pairing: lucifer x fallen angel! fem! reader
fandom: hazbin hotel
genre: fluff
warnings: no warnings yet.
notes: very feral for this man and this is multishot fic and would be writing a smut for this. Reader is close to his age (probably a hundred years younger but meh)
additional notes: this is a long one.
Part two |
[y/n] stood in the podium, her hands bound by golden chains. She looked at the higher angels who sat on the high chairs of the courtroom, her [e/c] eyes stared at them with boredom. She never liked being in heaven, so many rules to the point she couldn't breathe. She was created a few years after the infamous Lucifer fell from grace, she admired him. She has heard his cause and mentally agreed to his beliefs—she couldn't say it out loud as the higher beings would punish her. She was a good angel, always a rule follower and a good role model, then she suffered from burnt out, repeating the same thing everyday—waking up, praying, doing good, following the rules.
She started questioning their ways and now, the time has come for it to bite her back as she finally faces a trial. [Y/n] what happened the majority of her trial, she remembers doing a couple of nods in agreement and occasionally rolling her eyes whenever Adam said something stupid. She couldn't take whatever bullshit Sera was yapping about and decided to cut her off, “Enough about all these rules, just admit that us angels are egomaniacs, always hungry for control. Heck, Lucifer was right with his intentions but you guys saw it as an act of disobedience. You didn't like what he was doing since it didn't follow what you guys wanted him to do.” She said coldly, her tone making the whole room tense and cold, “he thought it was unfair to the humans to follow whatever heaven's command is without question and hesitation. But Lucifer gave them freedom,” [y/n] pauses, glaring at the higher beings, eyebrows furrowed and her eyes staring at their very soul, “Heaven is fake, you put on a show for everyone, pretending that everything is fine and this is a fun place filled with peace and we all know you guys want them to blindly follow your rules.”
“Do not ever speak his name or do you want to follow where he is?” Sera asked loudly, her voice commanding and echoing off the walls of the court but her message just made the angel in trial smirk, “Oh...? Frankly speaking, I think hell seems to be a better and more fun place than heaven. I could do whatever the fuck I want.” [y/n] says with a smirk, heart thumping loudly for the first curse word she had said. This made Sera more angry, “Then, so be it.” Sera sneers.
Falling... So this is what Icarus felt when he flew too close to the sun. Lucifer was lucky as heaven wasn't this harsh before, [y/n] closes her eyes as she felt the stinging pain of the wind caressing her back, golden ichor flowing from where her wings should be, but despite the pain, a grin was plastered on her face as she embraced the imminent pain she'll receive once she hits the burning ground of hell. Despite the extreme pain she felt on her back, the missing part of her that heaven decided to take—she felt free, shimmering tears cascades down her cheeks as she cried for her acquired freedom while simultaneously mourning for the loss of her wings. Her weak body passing by many, many clouds, passing by the crust of the earth and soon she could see the fiery red skies of hell, she can only wait for the impact.
She could hear the sound of something breaking and cracking, the loud ringing on her ears before her world turned dark. Falling from grace isn't enough to kill her.
Lucifer's usual schedule usually consists of him wallowing in self pity inside his room, making rubber ducks, or having an existential crisis in his balcony. Lucifer just so happens to be on his balcony that day, talking to his newly created rubber duck that looks like his daughter when his eyes noticed the dark red clouds of hell parting and a figure falling at extreme speeds, at first he thought it was another soul who ended up in hell but his eyes widened to see occasional gold shimmering on the figure. “What...” Lucifer murmurs in confusion, his eyes following the figure and what the...? It's about to land in his front yard.
Only his eyes widened in fear as the figure crashed and golden ichor splattered everywhere. The realization damned upon him that another angel has fallen from grace.
Shit. Shit. Shit. Lucifer never cursed so much as he jumped off the balcony, three pairs of wings springing out of his back as he quickly flew next to the crash site. “I swear to me if this person died,” this wouldn't be the first time someone died in his front yard but it would be the first time an angel would, but can an angel even die from this impact?
He quickly checked the fallen angel, identified that it's a female. She looked like such a mess, golden ichor splattered everywhere, messy hair from falling, eye bags, and passed out but despite all that, he found her to be very beautiful, “I swear to me, this isn't the time Lucifer.” he muttered to himself as he began to work and make sure this woman is treated properly. What made the king of hell freeze was when he used his power to lift her up gently, he noticed that so much blood was gushing out of her back where the bone that should connect to her wings. He just realized why this angel crashed, she couldn't fly. She doesn't have her wings anymore and that realization filled his heart with anger.
He stared at her broken form lying on the bed of the spare guest room of the castle, he couldn't fully heal her. There's a limit to how much his angelic powers could do, it can't reverse the damage heaven themselves have done to her. Thankfully, he managed to fix all broken bones and close the wounds she had received but he can't fix the trauma she'll receive from this. Believe him, he tried (with himself).
His hand caressed away the hair that was falling on her face, finally taking a good look on her. She looked more beautiful without those wounds, she looked better without the stress—a contrast to the first time he's seen her. Warmth flooding his cheeks, he doesn't even realize that the red of his cheeks has become significantly darker.
“Ah, Lucifer stop. You don't even know this woman,” Lucifer mutters in annoyance as he squeezes his own cheeks to stop the warmth before eventually leaving the guest room to continue his usual routine.
He's starting to get worried, the fallen angel that currently resides in his guest room still hasn't woken up. It's been eight days. He spent the entire week checking up on her and continuing to treat her, he admits that this unknown angel's presence did good to his mental health as he was busy worrying for her that he forgets to listen to his intrusive thoughts. “What am I going to do with you?” Lucifer mutters softly as he places his hands above her, hovering over her body as golden hue begins to glow. Slowly and surely healing her.
Aching pain in her muscles is what she felt, slowly regaining consciousness. [Y/n] woke up in an unfamiliar room, oddly reminds her of the rooms that only royalty have. She tried to move her muscles but she could feel it cracking from not moving for a long time. “What happened...?” she asked herself softly, trying to remember what happened. The trial, Sera's anger, Adam being annoying, falling, her wings, then crashing. “Where am I?” she asked herself again, her voice croaking slightly, she slowly moved her body so she could sit on the bed, her eyes wandering everywhere, taking in her surroundings. She noticed that the symbol apple and snake was present on the designs of the tinted windows. The door opens.
Another week has passed, still no sign of her waking up. Lucifer was walking towards the guest room, preparing himself to try to heal her again. He opens the door and he froze to see the fallen angel who's usually lying limp on the bed is now sitting and staring on the window. “You're awake.” he says softly and she turned to look at him, her eyes, it's so beautiful. “Who are you?” she asked him softly and he smiled, “The name's Lucifer Morningstar, welcome to hell.”
#Spotify#lxkeee hazbin hotel masterlist#lucifer morningstar x reader#hazbin hotel x reader#lucifer hazbin hotel#lucifer magne#lucifer#PLEASEE THIS WAS ORIGINALLY A SMUT BUT I DECIDED TO DO A BACKGROUND WRITING ON THEM FIRST FOR THEIR RELATIONSHIP TO BLOOM#“END GAME” — LUCIFER X READER
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i saw an incredible post on tiktok and i wanted to expand on it, because it's genuinely amazing. all the credit to @noesbf on tt for the idea that inspired these thoughts.
geto's character is threaded through with motifs of consumption. he takes things in, whether they be curses or daughters, and is spurred by intense empathy that ends up going in the "wrong" direction once he takes the entire jujutsu world under his wing.
when we're introduced to him in hidden inventory, our first glimpse is of him consuming a curse. he's also alone, in a dark alleyway, a symbolic image that parallels his journey throughout the story. he's a consumptive force, a facet of his being that ultimately leads to his undoing because he consumes the responsibility of "saving" the strong, who are burdened by the weak.
gojo, on the other hand, repels. he's an outward force, extending out a physical barrier that creates distance between his body and the world. where geto invites, gojo rejects. their abilities are constructed as diametrically opposed to one another's.
through the motif of gojo's abilities, this image captures their consume/repel dynamic in a singular shot. after riko's death, gojo leans into red, which repels. he focuses on growing stronger and in doing so, isolates himself from the world (and subsequently, geto). on the other hand, geto leans into blue, which aligns with the consumptive nature of his character. he harbours riko's death inside of himself and it festers, like a curse.
black holes are all-consuming vacuums. they subsume everything around them and create an inescapable vortex— once you're pulled in, you're never getting out. it will literally eat you and in doing so, makes you an everlasting part of it.
white holes, on the other hand, function in opposition to black ones along the same axis. where black holes pull, white holes push. nothing can enter them; they're doomed to a lonely eternity because of the force that holds the universe at a distance. nothing outside of it can affect what goes on within, yet it affects everything around it.
however, white holes can be subsumed by black holes. while nothing can enter them, if a white hole were to cross paths with a black hole, its consumptive force is so powerful that it would eat them too.
after geto and gojo experience a rapture in their relationship, gojo withdraws from the world, holding everyone at a literal and figurative distance. yet, even while he's alone, he's endlessly drawn towards geto. his eyes are bound but his soul isn't— it's tied to the piece of him inside of someone else, and gojo visibly feels the pull.
white/black holes also correspond to the colours associated with gojo and geto's characters (they align with their yin/yang dynamic, where yin (black) symbolizes darkness & the moon and yang (white) symbolizes light & the sun).
yin/yang are more than two halves; they form an indivisible whole. they become one another: light turns to dark, the moon replaces the sun in the sky, life transitions into death only to be born as life again.
if two celestial bodies exert oppositional forces upon each other, they function in equilibrium. geto's consumption was growing alongside gojo's repelling, reaching an event horizon when he took the lives of 112 villagers and forcing the two of them out of equilibrium. he continued to consume (curses, money, vulnerable people through his cult) until he died and took gojo's soul with him.
consumption can only exist if there's a repellant force pushing back. geto and gojo are not opposites, instead, they each contain the other— every yin has yang within it and vice versa.
they are borne of each other, they are unknowable without the other. they are more than matching; together, they are complete.
#my jjk meta#this is kinda all over the place but hear me out lmfao#jjk meta#jjk#satosugu angst#satosugu analysis#satosugu meta#jjk angst#jjk analysis#gojo and geto#gojo angst#gojo analysis#stsg angst#stsg brainrot#stsg#satosugu#gojo satoru#geto suguru#satoru x suguru#geto#gojo#jujutsu kaisen meta#jujutsu kaisen analysis#jujutsu kaisen angst#jujutsu kaisen#geto angst#geto x gojo#gojo x geto#jjk gojo#jjk geto
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No Wings No Horns
(important warnings) genre/tags ✶ Heeseung x afab!reader x Jake, plot heavy, angst, smut, some fluff, love triangle trope, thriller/dark, fantasy, themes of murder, themes of violence, themes of reincarnation, angel/devil themed, yandere character, major character death, mentions of suicide, cursing, mentions of hell/heaven, use of y/n, morally gray characters, very brief mention of foster homes, alcohol, very brief descriptions of physical abuse, blood, sleep deprivation, mention of pills, nightmares, etc... like super morally gray characters
smut warnings ✶ ass slapping, unprotected sex, creampie, nicknames (slut, angel, baby), light dubcon (heeseung), fingering, etc…
synopsis ✶ Growing up with your best friend, Jake, you thought you knew him inside and out- until you meet Heeseung on your first day of college. With his dark allure and unyielding devotion towards you, he leaves you questioning who Jake really is. Unbeknownst to you, Jake and Heeseung, who were once best friends in a realm beyond mortal understanding, share a secret so powerful it could shatter everything you thought you knew about them. But after a single, fateful mistake cost them their life full of radiance and purity, they’re now bound to earth under a haunted curse with a fate that can only be ended by one, unforgivable act.
WC ✶ 20.4
Taglist: @wilonevys, @katarinamae, @punchbug9-blog, @riribelle
A/N if you read the teaser, plz reread the beginning as i made significant changes for the plot :)
The realm of Heaven was unlike any other, a breathtaking expanse of greenery where radiant light cascaded over the land, creating a soft golden glow. Rolling hills were stretched as far as the eye could see, adorned with a spread of flowers that bloomed even in the winter. Along the dips in the hills were clear-blue streams that weaved through the landscape like a maze, the trickle of their stream like a peaceful soundtrack to the quiet tranquility of Heaven, or what the Guardian Angels liked to call: Celesta.
Spread throughout the city of Celesta was a variety of skyscrapers that rose into the sky, constructed out of material that seemed to glisten in the sunlight. Each building was intricately carved with a glowing inscription, burning with the prophecy of a fallen angel. Amongst them were structures like the Counsel of Angels, the Angel Hub, and the Headquarters.
In the Counsel of Angels building, decisions regarding Guardian Angels and mortals were made. Inside this building were sky high archways and ethereal sculptures climbing the walls, serving as a sanctuary for Angels to assign missions to Guardian angels. Here, angels gathered to deliberate matters of great importance, the air never failing to fill with harmonious discussion about families in need when meetings occurred. Each voice in the Counsel of Angels building resonated with an authority that boomed, as within these walls laid the power to change the lives of mere mortals, altering the course of fate.
The Angel Hub was comparably a much more relaxed place to be in than the Counsel of Angels. It was a space in which all angels gathered in order to unwind and relax after days or even months following a mission, a plethora of laughter and voices filling the air. Inside the building were large, open areas for social interactions and plush seating arrangements in every corner. In addition to the open spaces and comfortable seating options, was a large range of amenities that offered respite from their guardian duties like a spa and gym, but nothing compared to the bright camaraderie every angel shared amongst one another.
However, the familiar warmth of the Angel Hub stood in stark contrast to the oppressiveness of the Headquarters. The HQ was a strong fortress of judgment- where upon entering- the air turned cold. The entrance was flanked with iron doors and the ceiling ran high, adorned with a mural of The Last Judgment, a cold reminder of the fate awaiting those who dared to break the laws of the Guardian Codes.
Inside the Headquarters laid long, polished oak tables that filled the expansive hall. Here, the Counsel of Angels and members of the HQ gathered on the rare occasion a hearing took place. More often than not, a thin layer of dust would lay undisturbed on these tables, for such meetings were infrequent and unspoken of. However, when a meeting like this did occur, it often meant a Guardian would face punishments as severe as being reincarnated into a mortal angel with a cursed fate- or even worse, a condemnation to Hell.
Now, sitting on the quartz steps leading up to the imposing structure of the HQ building was a boy with platinum-blond hair dressed in a crisp white suit. Despite the solemn stoop in his shoulders, the sun’s radiant glow bathed him in a way that made him appear ethereal, despite the gloom beating around him. Blocking the sunlight with his outstretched wings, another boy descends besides him, casting a shadow over the boy. “It’s time to go inside, Jake.” He says with a grim expression.
Jake reluctantly stands up and joins his best friend of mere decades, Heeseung, each step towards the large iron doors drawing them closer to a fate neither of them could avoid any longer. With a deep breath, Jake pushes the heavy doors open, revealing a long hall filled with towering statues of legendary Guardian Angels- a now haunting site of fallen protectors. “It’s been years since I was last here,” Jake murmurs, a shudder rippling through his frame.
“Was that when the last hearing was?” Heeseung asks in a low voice.
“I’m not sure,” Jake’s gaze remains fixed on the path ahead, “Do you think they’ll let us off easy?”
Heeseung’s steps falter slightly as he listens to Jake’s words, the reason for their summons resurfacing in his mind. The Counsel had summoned the both of them to protect a girl named Alice, a high school senior with dreams of pursuing piano.
Alice was soft-spoken, so innocent and kind in a way that her presence was almost ethereal. She had this vibrance to her that made anyone who interacted with her longing for more. And the way she spoke of her music in such a reverence made it feel almost sacred- like her soul was spilling out bit by bit as each key was played. Her music was her sanctuary, just as her parents were. If it wasn’t her piano, it was her parents. Those two things were her most treasured possessions, up until Jake and Heeseung entered the picture.
Alice quickly captivated Heeseung and Jake in ways they hadn’t anticipated. They hadn’t planned on growing closer to her like that, much less fall for her. That much was forbidden, a Guardian Angel and a mortal to be together. Yet somewhere along the way, the lines between protector and lover blurred to a point even Heaven’s orders couldn’t sever. Though, if Heeseung could throw in any fruit for thought, he would say that it was Jake who was overly enamored with her; and it didn’t help that Alice was as equally infatuated with Jake.
Originally, Alice’s big concert- a chance for her to perform before college scouts- had been canceled due to a severe weather warning. But Jake, defying the angels above, took a reckless risk by manipulating fate to ensure that the show went on. He understood how much this concert meant to Alice; and he wanted nothing more than to see her on stage in that beautiful blue gown she saved up to buy, happily sharing her years of hard work- even if that meant bending a few rules.
That same night, a category 3 storm hit the streets. And while Alice waited in the safety of her venue, her parents got caught up in the eye of the storm on their way to watch her perform. Lightning struck just a car distance in front of their own, interfering with their steering and ultimately leading to their demise.The car had spun out, crashing into a railing and flipping with such force that everyone died on impact. To say Alice was devastated beyond repair when she learned of her parents’ deaths was an understatement. Standing there in the middle of her venue, sobbing in her expensive midnight blue dress as the weight of the news tore through her frame. For weeks, she never spoke, barely ate. She saw it as a devastating sign that her pursuit for happiness had ultimately led to her parents passing. And with the loss of the two things she cared about the most, she took her own life.
As the two boys near another set of doors, Heeseung breaks out of his cycle of thoughts, turning to Jake. “Honestly? I don’t know. What you did was incredibly stupid and reckless.” He sighs, shaking his head.
His friend’s worried expression turns sour, resentment flickering across his face. “If it was so stupid, you would’ve done more to stop me. But you loved her too, you wanted that concert to happen as much as I did.” His words come out bitterly, spitting blame on Heeseung that even he couldn’t deny.
Heeseung loved Alice; there was no denying it. But his love was different- it was more of a calm, steady flame in comparison to the wildfire that consumed Jake. His was all-encompassing, like some unbreakable spell Alice had casted on him. Heeseung feels his hand tighten at his side, but he swallows back the bitterness in his throat, not wanting to shake the brewing fragility of their friendship. He was already beginning to resent Jake for what happened.
The heavy doors creek open, revealing a vast hall filled with members of the Counsel, each occupying a seat at the long oak tables which were laid out in a rectangular shape. Their wings were concealed and their expressions were a mix of disappointment and grief. Heeseung felt a wave of guilt wash over him as he felt the weight of the angel's stares bore through him and Jake. At the center of the assembly hovered 5 angels of the HQ, each member adorned in a long, white cloak which glimmered in the sunlight that was streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows.
“Guardians Lee Heeseung and Sim Jaeyun,” a deep voice calls, reverberating across the hall. It belonged to an elder angel who hovered at the edge of the group. He descends gracefully to the floor, coming to stand behind the tables while staying within the boundary of the rectangular setup. “Today, you stand before us to discuss the events surrounding your mission with Alice.”
A second angel floats down to join the elder, she was much younger than him with sleek black hair just brushing against the small of her back and sharp cat like eyes. “Let us recount the facts,” she announces, “As two of Celesta’s most highly regarded Guardian Angels, you were entrusted with protecting a high school senior named Alice. Having served us for decades, you were expected to complete this mission seamlessly with no predicaments, but the both of you were blinded by love and selfishness, deviating you from your mission.” She clears her throat, “-and in your failure, led to unimaginable sorrow- the death of an entire family.”
Heeseung’s head lowers under the weight of his guilt that was finally becoming physically burdening. “Look at us when we speak to you.” commands a voice from the center of the hall. It was Michael, God’s second-in-command, a figure whose authority was as powerful as his presence. His voice echoes through the room and Heeseung looks up immediately, raking his eyes over the figure that spoke so purposefully. “Your careless actions resulted in a tragedy- a death count of three innocent souls. I’m assuming as well seasoned Guardian Angels, you’re aware of the punishment associated with mortal deaths.”
Michael had long stood as the most revered angel in all of Heaven. For centuries, his wisdom and strength commanded respect across both Heaven and Earth, his name carrying prestige to both angels and mortals alike. To have him, the highest of all angels, rebuke down on them was like driving a blade of guilt deep into their hearts. The sharpness of their own guilt pierced deeper than any blade could, settling through their veins like ice. No angel ever wished to face his wrath, and yet here they were, awaiting his final judgment.
“Lee Heeseung and Sim Jaeyun, given the severity of your actions, an appeal or intervention will not be entertained. The punishment will be absolute.”
Jake and Heeseung’s blood ran cold, a tremor of dread crawling up their spines. Jake shuffles ever so slightly over to his best friend, discreetly linking his pinky in Heeseung’s, desperate for some sort of temporary comfort as he faces his fate. Their faces burn with guilt as Michael’s words echo with finality, tightening the tension in the air. Heeseung felt his knees weaken, every fiber in his being fighting to keep him upright.
“You may say your last words before your punishment is carried out.”
Heeseung takes a step forward, his heart lurching as he reluctantly releases himself from Jake’s hand. “It is with profound regret that an innocent life like Alice’s was so greatly affected by our selfish, one-sided actions. Due to our careless behavior and lack of critical thinking and compassion we failed to protect Alice and those around her, resulting in the death of her loved ones, and ultimately herself. And for that, we will spend the rest of our lives repenting for our mistakes.”
There was no plea in the speech he delivered, Heeseung understood Michael’s words clearly. Forgiveness wasn’t in their future to seek, the tragedy so great it was something beyond reconciliation. Their fate was sealed as soon as Alice’s death was final. As a Guardian Angel, it was their sacred duty to guide and protect those assigned to them; and to fail in that was to bring peril to the universe, tipping the world off its axle.
Heeseung turns to Jake, a silent look asking if he wishes to say anything. Jake’s gaze remains fixated on his white dress shoes. He shook his head, swallowing hard. Heeseung turns back to Heeseung, his gaze heavy with sorrow, “I speak for the both of us when I say there is nothing else for us to add. We are ready to accept our punishment.”
In the city of Celesta, tragedy could only be answered with sacrifice.
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“Stop fucking touching me,” you complain, pushing away your best friend for what felt like the umpteenth smile.
“I can’t help it!” Jake whines, tagging along beside you with that familiar pout you knew so well, his metaphorical puppy ears switching into airplane mode as though you’d scolded him. “It's the first day of class, Y/n! How am I not supposed to be nervous?”
You roll your eyes, though you can’t help but laugh a little, breaking your facade. “This isn’t even our biggest lecture, that one’s at 2 p.m., remember?” You say, pushing open the classroom door as you begin to glance around for an empty seat. Your eyes eventually zero in on two seats in the middle, and with a well-practiced tug on his hoodie sleeve, you drag him to what you hoped would be your unassigned assigned seats for the rest of the semester. “Jake, do you think this class is going to be boring?”
Jake drops into his seat with an exaggerated huff, setting his head on the desk. “I heard the first day of college is reserved for talking about the syllabus.” he mutters, his hoodie covering his eyes. “I miss middle school when we got babied for being the only sixth graders in our classes.”
Rolling your eyes, you let your mind fall back to when you first met Jake in middle school, tucked away in the back corner of an advanced math class where the two of you were considered outliers. As the only sixth graders navigating honors pre-algebra, you were dwarfed- surrounded by ninth graders that towered over you like giants, casting you annoyed glances every chance they got. It was clear from the start that you and Jake would become quite close considering the disapproval the older students gave you two.
In seventh grade, you noticed his presence in your other advanced classes too- biology and english- each time being the only other seventh grader in the sea of high schoolers. He was your partner for every project- not by choice- but because no other student wanted to pair up with the young, pre-pubescent students whose voices cracked with every other word.
Gradually, the constant presence of Jake being near you became something you looked forward to. Whether you were double-checking some crazy long math formula or relearning the Krebs cycle for the umpteenth time, Jake was always besides you. Your partnership, born out of pure convenience and necessity, became an anchor for you in those chaotic years. By the time 8th grade came around, he was more than just a familiar face, but your best friend.
Breaking you from your thoughts, your classroom begins to fill and an older man enters the room, briefcase swinging by his side. “Alright, welcome to Econ 101. We’ll start with attendance right away.” Beside you, Jake grumbles softly into his sweater, tucking his hands under his chin.
For the next few minutes, your professor goes through a list of names you’ve never heard of, his voice a monotonous drone that drags through the air. “Lee Heeseung?” he calls. You feel Jake tense beside you, his half-closed eyes snapping open completely. From the back of the room, a low voice murmurs, “Here.”
Curiously, you crane your neck to glance over your shoulder, catching sight of him- a boy with dark red hair, an unwavering gaze fixed ahead of him, completely disinterested in anyone else. His eyes seem to bore through the heads of those sitting in front of him, as if they’re merely ghosts. Feeling an unwavering chill run through your veins, you turn back in your seat.
When your own name is called, you manage a steady “Here”, shaking off the unease of Heeseung’s blank stare.
Finally, the professor reaches Jake’s name, “Sim Jaeyun?” he calls. Jake mutters a lackluster, “Here” that’s just loud enough for the professor to hear and you nudge him in the side.
“Why didn’t you tell him to call you Jake?”
He gives you a half-hearted yawn, “Just tired,” he attempts, his voice fraying at the edges. You roll your eyes, clicking your tongue before turning your attention back to the front of the class. The professor continues to drone on, like Jake had predicted earlier, spending most of today’s class time dissecting the syllabus at an almost microscopic detail. It’s a dense discussion, and you find your attention wavering in and out until the words, ‘group project’ catch your ear.
Upon hearing the collective sighs from the small class, the professor offers a smile, undeterred by the class’s reaction. “I know, I know. Group projects aren’t everyone’s favorite, but teamwork is essential in the real world. I’ve assigned you all into groups of three.”
Jake lets out another tired sigh, his tense body unrelenting as he turns to you, “I hope we’re paired up.” He whispers, leaning his heavy head into your shoulders before slumping into his seat.
Names start to echo through the room as the professor starts calling them out in groups of three, “Sim Jaeyun, Y/n L/n,” he pauses before adding the last name, “And Lee Heeseung.”
Your eyes widen in surprise and you swing around to face Jake with a wide grin, “You manifested well, my Jake.” You tell him, nudging him in the side. He offers you a faint smile, hoping you wouldn’t notice the way his heart raced at the mere thought of his near future. Not noticing the way your best friend has slipped into his own little shell of overthinking, you find your gaze flickering to the back of the classroom. You steal a glance at Heeseung and notice that he hasn’t budged, still as disinterested as ever- though this time, there’s a new sharpness to his gaze.
The professor continues on, tone light hearted as he wraps up the class, “I’d highly suggest meeting with your group after today's class to start working on the project immediately. College will surely keep you busy, and I would hate to see you guys turn this in late.”
The moment he concludes, you gather your things and turn towards Jake, “Could you talk to Heeseung and get his contact info? I’ve got to rush to my next class.”
He nods, albeit absentmindedly as he watches you disappear without waiting for a response. But before Jake could begin processing his next move, he feels a tug on the back of his hoodie, Heeseung’s hand roughly grabbing at the fabric. “Whoa- what the heck?” Jake says, stumbling to grab his backpack as Heeseung drags him into an empty hall.
The silence in the hall is deafening, away from the bustle of students. “Jake.” Heeseung deadpans, the word devoid of any emotion. With knitted eyebrows, Heeseung moves forward until he’s just inches away from Jake’s face.
The smaller boy freezes, a shiver running through his veins as he slowly looks up to meet the dark gaze of the boy standing before him. “Heeseung.” He says, the name falling from his lips like a blow of dust. “You didn’t have to pull me like that, we’re in the same group. No need to be… dramatic.”
Heeseung doesn’t relent. Instead, he steps forward and keeps his gaze fixed on his ex best friend. “Dramatic?” His voice drops dangerously low. “You think I waited all this time for a fucking group project, just to be called ‘dramatic’?”
Jake’s breath hitches, a chill creeping over him as he registers the menace in Heeseung’s voice- a stark contrast to the Heeseung he had known all those years ago. The Heeseung from before was soft-spoken, carrying himself with a quiet confidence that radiated warmth and gentleness, not this harsh authority he was seeing now. With his unforgiving glare and sharpness in his voice, Jake could barely recognize him; if not for his name and familiar bambi shaped eyes, Heeseung would have seemed like a complete stranger.
Jake swallows, his throat dry as the memory of their punishment relinquishes his mind due to the sudden reunion with his old best friend. Losing his wings was like losing his identity, and it took years for him to step out of that darkness once he regained his memories at the age of 11. And he couldn’t even imagine what it must have felt like for Heeseung- to not only lose his wings but to also be severed from his angelic nature completely. The fall from grace hadn’t been easy for either of them: the hollow ache in Jake’s shoulders acting as a constant reminder of what he used to have, and the tether that had once kept Heeseung close to the light being stripped entirely from him. Jake may have fallen, but Heeseung had fallen so much further for reasons Jake didn’t know.
“What’s got you waiting any longer? Can’t kill me?” Jake asks, his eyes hardening.
“Killing you isn’t on my agenda, at least not right now. There’s still so much to be done, let’s catch up soon, okay?”
Jake’s head swirls with emotions as Heeseung takes a step back, an evil smirk plastered on his face. The chill in the hallway seems to thicken as Heeseung turns around, lengthening the distance between them. His head becomes heavy as the weight of their shared past presses heavily on him, lingering questions of what’s in store hovering in the air like a dark cloud.
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“So did you get his number?” You ask, plopping down next to Jake who was sprawled out on your dorm room floor.
With a shake of the head, he tells you that Heeseung had left immediately before he could grab any contact information. “Tch, we’ll have to get it next class then.” You reply, laying down to look up at the glow-in-the-dark stars you had put up on your ceiling when you first moved in. Jake had suggested the Orion. “Was it just me, or did he give off weird vibes?” You ask, unable to keep your observations about him a secret.
Shifting besides you, Jake turns to face you, “Yeah, the guy gives me the creeps. It’s like he’s waiting for something to happen…”
He swallows hard, his mind a race of thoughts as he juggles the various paths Heeseung might take in order to achieve immortality again. Would Heeseung really follow through with what Michael said in order to redeem their punishment now that they had located each other, or would he just continue to lay low?
So many years had passed, Jake could almost say he had forgotten about the deal they had made with the Counsel of Angels and the HQ. He almost didn’t want to go back, life was amazing, but he knew the cursed fate of his punishment was bound to come. And now that the long awaited encounter with Heeseung had finally happened, it was time for Jake to put his guard up.
Just then, your phone buzzes, catching Jake in the middle of his inner battle. You glance down to see a text from Chaeryoung, a girl you had met earlier that day in your English 116 class, inviting you to a party. “Hey, there’s a party going on at the Alpha Delta frat house, you wanna swing by?”
Jake raises an eyebrow at you, not giving any sign of standing up any time soon. “A party? When did you start going to those?”
“Since never, but we’re in college now.” You reply, a playful gleam sparkling in your eyes as you hold a hand out for him to grab. “We have to start leaving the house for things that aren’t math competitions and family dinners.”
Jake hesitates for a minute, glancing at your outstretched hand before ultimately letting out a resigned sigh and grabbing it.
You were right; the two of you had fallen into a comfortable routine, cocooned within the walls of your childhood homes, spending your nights hunched over textbooks and cramming for high school finals. Family events were also a staple in your lives, with the two of your families growing closer over the years as you two spent more and more time together, every holiday became a joint gathering.
“Fine, but I’m only coming to make sure you don’t get plastered.” He says with reluctance in his voice.
Smiling happily at your best friend, you lock yourself away in the bathroom, the soft click of the door providing you a moment of privacy. As you change into a plaid black skirt and simple sweater, you give yourself a once over in the mirror, adjusting your hair and shaking off any lingering feelings of hesitancy before unlocking the door.
His gaze sweeps over you, his eyes lingering just a fraction longer on your exposed legs than they should. You can’t help but notice a rush of warmth that rises to your cheeks when his eyes meet yours, “What, should I go and change?” you ask, embarrassment laced in your voice.
His response is quick as he shoves his hands into his pockets, “No, no. You look fine, let’s go.” With that, he steps out of your dorm room.
The frat house isn’t far- just a five minute walk from your place, but the journey stretches into the double digits as you and Jake navigate the unfamiliar plot of land in the darkness, illuminated only by the occasional glow of streetlamps and laughter of fellow college students.
As you approach a large building that is surrounded by students holding drinks and swaying to booming music, you hear a feminine voice call your name. “Girl, you’re finally here! I didn’t know if you’d make it.” Looking over to your left, you see a girl with long black hair jogging over to you and Jake with two red solo cups in hand. “Here, it’s a special drink I mixed just for you,” she says, shoving the concoction into your free hand.
With a cautious sip, you let the tangy liquid reach your tastebuds and you click your tongue, giving it a moment to settle. “It’s quite nice!” You say, raising your cup for another sip. Jake’s cautious hand lands on your arm before you can savor another sip, and you look at him with curiosity.
“Are you sure? What about your pills?” He asks in a low voice.
“They’re just antidepressants, not opioids.” You tell him, pulling away from him to take a second sip. You loved Jake enough to never tell him this, but you were hoping that tonight would give you a chance to explore the world without Jake hovering around you. He was always so protective.
She smiles, linking her arm through yours and nodding her head for Jake to follow.
She leads the two of you into the frat house, quickly introducing you to four other girls: Yeji, Lia, Yuna, and Ryujin. “Jake, go make some friends. I’m sure you’d rather be doing anything else than stand around surrounded by girls.” You say, shooing him off. He shoots you a look but saunters off to the kitchen to talk to some boys, quickly captivating them with his signature puppy charm.
With the help of Chaeryoung’s drink, you make quick work with the girls you just met, finding yourself settling down with them comfortably as the night unfolds. Ryujin and Lia leave for just a moment to refill your drinks, coming back a second later with a different mixture, this one more bitter and leaving a sour burn in your throat. “Let’s go dance.” Yeji says, grabbing your wrist.
You follow her into the living room where a group of drunken bodies are pushing against each other, intoxicatingly out of rhythm with the music. Yeji pulls you into the crowd, encouraging you to dance alongside the sweaty bodies and sway to the bass of the music.
As you let the alcohol guide your movements, you fail to notice the eyes on your back. Disheartened by your lack of awareness, a boy walks up to you and pulls you away from the crowd by your waist. Due to your senses being dimmed from the alcohol, you can only manage a meek swat to the arm. “Hey, I couldn’t help but notice how pretty you looked dancing over there.” He murmurs, too close to your ear.
You look into his eyes, noticing a darkness in his gaze, clearly unaware of your discomfort. Glancing around, you suddenly become hyper-aware of the way the crowd around you two seems to press on without a second glance. In an effort to put some distance between you and the stranger, you try to step back, but your effort is proven futile when he pulls you closer. “What, trying to leave, kitten?”
His breath is fanning in front of your face now, and you can smell the strong scent of beer intoxicating your senses. With sweat beading at the root of your forehead, you glance around one more time and spot Jake out of the corner of your eye making a beeline toward you.
“Back off,” he says instantly, pushing his body between you and the stranger.
“Who the hell is this? Your fucking Guardian Angel?”
The stranger steps into Jake’s space, testing the waters to see just how far your best friend will go. Jake, who had always been strong willed and protective, doesn’t budge. The tension around you three thickens, drawing in the gaze of a few partygoers, but no one moves. “She isn’t interested,” He says, “So back off.”
The man lets out a scoff, broadening his chest out as if to size Jake up, “What makes you think she isn’t interested?”
You notice the way Jake’s hand clenches by his side, his knuckles flurrying white, and for a moment, you’re worried he may take it too far. Jake was never one for aggression, he was always the voice of reason, someone who would rather defuse a situation with words rather than with fists. But now, Jake stands in front of the guy who dared to make you uncomfortable, locking eyes, “Don’t make me repeat myself.” He says, his voice low and sharp.
It’s the first time in your life you’ve ever heard him speak with an edge to his voice, and it’s almost enough to make you weak. After a long, tense silence, the guy finally smirks and raises his hands in mock surrender. “Alight, angel.” He says, voice dripping with sarcasm, “you can have her.”
As his figure melts back into the crowd, Jake’s shoulders sag, letting out a deep breath as the tension from before visibility settles. “You okay?” he asks, his tone softening as he scans your face.
You nod, a similar relief matching his as you pull him into a hug. “You know you didn’t have to do that. I’m sure I would’ve found my way out eventually.” You say, giggling as the alcohol buzzes through your veins.
He shrugs, holding you in his arms for just a second longer. “Yeah… Guess it’s just my job.”
“You really are my Guardian Angel, aren’t you?” You tease, laughing before skipping off to find Yeji, whom you had lost earlier.
Jake watches as you disappear into the crowd once more, your words echoing in his mind: Guardian Angel, if only you knew. Your mere mention of a Guardian Angel felt like a cold slap to the face, reminding him of everything you didn't know, everything he couldn’t tell you.
The irony of it all nearly makes him laugh, but instead, a hint of sadness glistens in his eyes when he loses sight of you again. You weren’t assigned to him like Alice, but he took it upon himself to act as your Guardian Angel as soon as he met you in that advanced math class. He felt like it was a sign, to protect you from the harsh judgment of the older students. Acting as your “Guardian Angel” wasn’t just a joke to him- it was something he vowed upon when he ascended into the heavens. But it was something you would never know the full extent of.
Maybe he wasn’t the angel that he once was- powers stripped and all- but there was still that tether holding him to the light that kept Jake up like a guiding force, subtle but steady. He knew there was still a chance, still a possibility to come back.
With a shake of the head, Jake glances around before making his way back to the kitchen. As he weaves through the crowd, he spots Heeseung casually leaning against a wall, watching everything that had just unfolded. Their eyes lock, and Jake feels a flicker of unease twist in his stomach, wincing before turning away. “Toss me a beer,” he mutters to the group near him, shaking off the gaze of Heeseung’s eyes on his back.
Jungwon, one of the boys he had met earlier, slides a Guinness across the kitchen island. “You good, man? You look like you just saw the devil.” He jokes, his cat eyes seen creasing over his solo cup.
Jake almost laughs; he practically had. “Nah, just had a run in with some dude hitting on my best friend.” He says, hoping the swig from his beer would calm the unease stirring inside of him.
Jay, another guy from the group, raises his eyebrow. “You like her?”
Jake shakes his head, forcing out a laugh as he ignores the heaviness in his stomach, “No, just… protective. That’s all.”
Jay and Jungwon glance at one another, giving eachother a knowing look. Though they had only met Jake a few hours ago, Jake was easy to decipher. It was clear to them that Jake looked at you in a way that was more than just ‘friendly’.
Hours blur by as Jake hangs out in the kitchen with a group of boys and you dance amongst the crowd on your fourth cup of whatever Chaeryoung had managed to mix for you, each one stronger than the last. It felt unbelievably freeing, a complete 180 from the years of careful restriction your parents had kept you under for so long. You’d never had the chance to drink or go out to parties back in high school; your parents always saying something about your meds not mixing well with alcohol. But you had been on them since you were seven, around the time you started your piano lessons. You felt like it was just an excuse for them to keep you under their supervision. But it didn’t matter anyways, they weren’t here to hover over your shoulder now- and damn did you feel alive.
Lost in the rhythm, you dance along with your friends, letting the alcohol guide your messy movements. You feel your back stick to Yuna’s skin as you move against her, sweat slicking your body the harder you dance. It was getting hot, but you enjoyed it. With your eyes closed, you sway along to the music and let your laughter mix into the air until you feel a firm grip catch your arm.
“Y/n, we should get going.” A familiar voice says into your ear.
“Whyyy?” you slur, pathetically holding back a giggle as you lean into him. Jake steadies you, catching your frame as he wraps a secure arm around your waist.
“You’re drunk, Y/n.” He says, wrapping your arm around his shoulder. “Come on, I’ll take you back to your dorm.”
Through half-closed eyes, you give a lazy nod and let your best friend drag you through the crowded frat house. It takes double the time it took to get here than it does to get back to your dorm thanks to your drunken gait and need to look at every flower on the ground, but you manage to make it back to your dorm in one piece.
“Can you change, or do you need help?” He asks, noticing the way you flop onto your bed.
“I’m fine.” you drawl.
Jake quirks an eyebrow as amusement flickers in his eyes. “You sure?” He asks, watching as you try to shimmy your way out of your skirt and top. Leaning against your wall, he crosses his arms.
“I said I’m fine.” you insist, finally managing to wriggle out of your clothes, leaving you in your panties and bra. Jake, ignoring the flush in his cheeks lets out an awkward chuckle.
“Ok, I believe you.” He says, ignoring the way his heart flutters at seeing your cute messed up state. Moving to your bed, he grabs at your blanket and pulls it above your chest, “Text me when you wake up, alright?”
Before leaving, Jake reaches into your bedside drawer and pulls out a bottle of Advil, making sure to fill up a glass of water as well, placing it next to your bed before slipping out of your room quietly. Hearing the door click behind him, he turns around only to come face to face with the one and only, Heeseung.
“Gosh, do me a favor and put on a bell.” He gasps, clutching at his heart. Heeseung’s expression doesn’t change though, his gaze all the more intense as he looks at Jake with an unreadable stare.
“You’re so careless, sneaking around in her room now?” He says, a smirk dancing on his lips.
“I’m just looking out for her, Heeseung.” Jake says, attempting to step around the boy. With a quick side step, Heeseung blocks his path, allowing him to deliver his next words in a low whisper.
“You’re not a Guardian Angel, anymore.” He hisses, venom dripping in his voice. “Unless there’s…some sort of ulterior motive?”
Jake forces himself to stay calm, “Stop talking about that.” He asserts, looking around to see if anyone heard, “And don’t be ridiculous. I’m her best friend.” With one final glance, Jake bumps Heeseung in the shoulder to get past him, heading down to the first floor of your dorm building. “Why are you even here?”
Heeseung watches him descend down the steps, his expression twisting into something darker, possessive even. “Just…meeting with a friend.” He mutters. As Jake’s figure disappears down the stairwell, Heeseung turns back to face your door. “Y/n…” He licks his lips after saying your name, the word falling from his lips like honey.
It doesn’t take long for you to fall asleep, thanks to the special concoctions that Chaeryoung had mixed for you earlier. With Jake’s help, you fall asleep quite fast, but you find the dreams that night were particularly vivid.
Your hands fly across the keys of the grand piano, each note a haunting and lonely calling that fills the seemingly empty space around you. The spotlights harsh glow envelops you, casting everything beyond you into a vast darkness that seems to stretch on to no end. Every note echos, only proving your point that you seem to be in a never ending void.
In the shadows, just beyond the spotlight’s reach sat two blurry figures on wooden chairs. Though their faces were hidden, you could make out the frame of a woman and a man sitting together in close proximity. There was something warm and familiar about them that emanates at you as you continue to play, a feeling that fills you with comfort and sorrow. They sit there in complete silence, watching you.
The song intensifies as each chord brings you to reach new heights, the melody picking up as it fills the unmoving space. Your hands are moving faster now, an ache growing in your chest as you reach the climax of the song. Finally, pressing the final key, you look up, only to see that the figures have faded. In their absence leaves a deep, inexplicable grief.
To say you could’ve had a better morning was an understatement. Your head is throbbing, and your throat is parched as hell. But to your convenience, an Advil bottle and glass of water decorate your bedside table and you quickly swallow the pill. Feeling the large pill descend down your throat, you close your eyes as if to will the pounding sensation to go away.
With your eyes closed, remnants of your dream come back to your mind and you can’t seem to shake the feeling of that loss from your heart. You never enjoyed your piano lessons, but never had they made you feel grief. It was always a struggle to keep at your lessons, each note feeling like a chore rather than a hobby. Yet now, you don’t think you could find yourself forgetting that melody for some time.
A sudden knock at your door jolts you from your thoughts, the sound echoing in your head. “Y/n, get up!” Jake calls out, his voice muffled. You roll your eyes, feeling an odd annoyance towards the sound of your best friend's voice.
“Come in!” You shout back. The door swings open, revealing a bored looking Jake. He walks in, having unlocked your door with the illegal key copy he made of your dorm key. He wasn’t one to ever break the rules, but if it meant keeping you safe, he guessed he could bend just a few. “How do you feel?” He asks, coming to sit down on the edge of your bed.
“Like hell,” you admit, rubbing at your temples in a futile attempt to ease the aching pain.
“Did you take the pills I left out for you?” He probes, leaning over to see if you had drunk the glass of water.
His overbearingness has you rolling your eyes harder than you normally would and you wince, your headache pounding as you do so. “Yes, I-” Before you can finish your sentence, your phone begins to ring, interrupting the moment. You hold a hand up to Jake, signaling for him to shut his mouth. “Hello?” you answer, your voice still thick with sleep.
“My sweet vixen,” a smooth voice says, “How did you sleep?”
Heat rushes to your cheeks and you quickly turn your face so that your hair falls to cover your expressions. “I slept fine, thanks.” You reply, doing your best to keep your tone level. Jake perks up upon hearing you talk about your sleep, wondering who would bother asking you how you slept.
“I’d like to meet up around 4 p.m. in the Cornox building to discuss our economics project with you and Jake, would that be okay?” Heeseung continues, his voice confident as he toys with the pen in his fingers back at his own dorm.
“Yeah, I’ll let him know.” you say right before hastily hanging up the call. Lowering your hand, you look at Jake who had been staring at you intently.
“Who was that?” He asks with wide eyes.
“Heeseung,” you say plainly, avoiding his gaze as you feel the lingering heat on your cheeks still there. As you stand up from your bed, you feel the cool air hit your naked skin and you scramble to the bathroom. “Oh my gosh, Jake! Don’t look at me!”
Jake rolls his eyes, striding over to your closet with a casual ease to pick out a pair of shorts and top. “Oh hush, you literally stripped in front of me last night.” He teases, opening your door enough to reach his arm in, handing you the clothes. “How did he get your number?”
“I ran into him at the party last night, did you not see him?” You say, throwing the garments on quickly.
Jake’s face hardens at the thought of you meeting with Heeseung without him there, “I did…I just don’t know.” He answers, hesitating for just a moment before pressing on, “I think you should be careful, he seems- intense.”
You throw Jake a look, brushing off his concerns, “Jake, I can’t exactly ignore him when we have to meet up with him later today to work on the econ project.” Swinging the bathroom door open, you step out. “I can handle myself, now shut up and help me find my econ notebook. I think I left it under my bed.”
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The day moves faster than you’d anticipated, your shared classes with Jake flying by quickly due to his constant whispering in your ear. Though, your one class with Heeseung raises an unease in your stomach you can’t quite shake throughout the day due to the weight of his gaze on your back.
Before you know it, 4 p.m. arrives and you’re standing in the middle of the Cornox building with Jake, the two of you glancing around expectantly. The building was rather old, its building pillars stretching over 12 feet high and carved with intricate detailing that you couldn’t recognize. They rise up into an archway that soars above your heads, giving the building a sort of timelessness to the hall that makes you feel out of place everytime you walk in wearing sweatpants and a plain t-shirt.
“Didn’t he say the Cornox building?” Jake asks, his foot tapping on the glossed over stone tiles in an irrythmic pattern.
“I did, didn’t I?” a voice drawls from behind.
Turning, you see Heeseung approaching, dressed in a black hoodie and faded blue jeans, such casual clothes for someone with such an intense, magnetic energy. His eyes, sharp and calculating, meet yours for just a moment before he glides past the two of you, claiming a seat at the table before you both. Swallowing, you sit in the chair beside him and Jake follows suit, pulling up a chair next to yours.
“Let’s start by dividing up the project,” Heeseung suggests, pulling out his laptop. “I think Y/n and I should handle the presentation- gather all the research and everything.” He looks over at Jake with a challenge in his stare, “Jake, you can write up the draft for the research paper and then we can edit that before submitting everything.”
You stare at your hands, fingers intertwined and tucked in the safety between your legs as you feel the weight of the silence that stretches between the three of you. Heeseung’s assertive voice weighs heavily in the air, and you’ll be damned if you’re the first one to break the silence. Instead, you keep your gaze fixed downwards as you pull your things from out of your backpack. Jake, fueled with jealousy swallows his words and nods towards Heeseung, pulling his own laptop and textbooks out.
Besides you, Jake stiffens, his jaw clenched as he types furiously at his laptop. ‘Since when did we choose a group leader, huh?’ he thinks to himself. He glances up at Heeseung briefly, a mixture of annoyance glazing over his irises as he represses himself from shouting at the boy.
For the next few hours, the three of you work together in a tense but calm rhythm, only puncturing the steady silence through murmured debates about resources and presentation slides. The earlier tension from before seems to slowly give way through your productive collaboration, and you almost forget about the strained dynamic that Jake and Heeseung seemed to share. After a while, you begin to find your back becoming sore from hunching over your laptop for so long. Stretching your arms above your head, you let out a long sigh.
“Should we call it a day? I think we’ve done enough.” You suggest, rolling your shoulders as your shirt lifts slightly.
Heeseungs gaze flickers down to the sliver of skin that peeks under your shirt, and he leans back with a smirk. “That’s a good idea, Y/n.”
“Yuna told me there’s a 24/7 Cafe just down the street. It’s supposed to be perfect for late-night hangouts, how about we head there for a bit and check it out?” You ask, smiling at the two boys.
Jake nods, offering you a faint smile despite the obvious reluctance towards having to spend more time around Heeseung tugging at his heart. He wasn’t one to say no to you. You gather your things and beckon the boys to hurry up, leaving the Cornox building and walking across the campus under the evening sky. Within minutes, the glow of the cafe comes into view and your eyes sprawl over the pillars adorned with crawling vines and the frosted windows with flower boxes of every color.
Inside, the cafe is warm and inviting as the dim campus lights seep through the windows. The cafe is lit by a warm hue, casting a humble glow over its patrons, creating a cozy sanctuary. Navigating through the space, you find a table in the corner and settle in as Jake heads to the counter to order your drinks. “Did you want anything, Heeseung?” You say, reaching for your wallet. You knew Jake already knew your cafe order, but you didn’t recall him ever asking what Heeseung wanted.
Heeseung places his hand over your own, his fingers cold against your warm ones. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’m not hungry.” His voice is smooth as he stops you from reaching for your wallet. You smile, feeling a sudden shyness as you pull your hands away from his just as Jake comes back.
“One medium iced vanilla latte for you,” Jake says, placing your drink in front of you. His eyes move towards the vacancy in front of Heeseung and he lets out a hum, “Oh, did you want anything? I just went to the counter out of habit since I always buy Y/n's by default when we go to cafes.” You kick Jake’s shin, annoyed by his attitude and he lets out a strained groan.
Heeseung only smirks, his eyes full of amusement as he ignores Jake’s pathetic attempts at riling him up. “No need, Jake. Y/n already offered but I politely declined.”
The tension in the air is almost palpable, but you do your best to ignore it, focusing instead on keeping the conversation light. Your attempts are futile though as Jake and Heeseung are dead set on staying silent, their gazes crossing from time to time only to throw the occasional dirty look at one another. The only time they open their mouths is to respond to you and you only. But you refuse to let their negative energy affect your night, so you lean back into the booth and let your gaze wander your surroundings, looking for a topic to talk about.
“Oh, is that an automatic piano?” You exclaim, nudging Jake as you lean over to get a better look. Tucked away in the corner of the bustling cafe was a grand piano that seemed to only do so much to fill the already energetic cafe.
Jake follows your gaze, a faint look of recognition on his face, “Oh yeah, I guess it is.”
Heeseung chimes in, “Do you play?”
You meet Heeseung’s gaze, feeling an odd weight in his question. “My parents signed me up for piano lessons when I was seven, but I hated it. I quit as soon as I graduated high school.” You settle back into the booth, closing your eyes so that you could focus better on the piano playing in the background. “Lacrimosa by Mozart.” You murmur.
“I didn’t know you played,” Jake says, genuine surprise flickering across his face.
You shrug, “Well, I hated it so I guess it never really came up. Felt more like a burden than anything. Though I guess I could say it’s a hidden talent of mine.”
Heeseung and Jake exchange a glance when you aren’t looking, too fleeting for you to notice as you finish your drink. Upon the familiar sound of your straw scraping against the bottom of your cup, you frown and get up to excuse yourself. Before you can shuffle around Jake, your phone buzzes- a call from Yeji, asking for you to come over and hang out with her and the girls. “Hey, Yeji asked me to come over and hang out, so I think I’m gonna get going.” You say, shifting around Jake to grab your bag. He swivels his feet out of the booth and you slide past him, waving to them both before leaving the cafe, the scent of your mahogany vanilla perfume lingering in your absence.
When your figure disappears from his view, Heeseung clasps his hands together. “You’re in love with her.” He deadpans, the words striking the air with the bluntness of a hammer.
Jake’s head snaps around, his heart thumping in his chest. “What? She’s my best friend, what do you mean?”
A knowing smirk tugs at Heeseung’s lips and he leans in further, “Because she’s just like Alice.”
The name cuts through Jake’s chest like a knife, an unwelcome reminder of the past he tried so hard to bury. He swallows hard, his voice dropping down to a whisper despite the close proximity of their faces, “I told you to stop talking about this stuff in public.” His voice is almost threatening, annoyance creeping in.
“When did you meet Y/n?” Heeseung presses, insistence evident in his voice.
Jake’s expression hardens as his reluctance grows, “When I was eleven.”
“And when did your memories come back?”
Jake clenches his jaw, realization dawning upon him, “When I was also eleven. But that means nothing.” Silence fills the space as Heeseung leans in even closer, his hands pressing against the table now to trap Jake in between his posture.
“You want to know when I regained my memories?” He asks, face close enough Jake could feel his breath. “When I was six, the moment my parents passed away in a car accident in the middle of a category 3 storm. Just. Like. Alice’s. Parents.” There’s a dangerous venom that drips from Heeseung’s voice now as he closes in on Jake, his hatred for the boy now unrelenting as he reveals the horrors of his past.
Heeseung does his best to control the venom flowing through his veins before continuing, knowing he still had the decency to play nice in a public place like this. “Do you have any idea how many fucking foster homes I went through? How many belts hit my ass because I didn’t clean up the dishes fast enough, or how many nights I spent sleeping outside because I didn’t get an A on my tests?” All the pain, all the unspoken abuse Heeseung went through was coming to light now, and Jake could do nothing but listen to his old best friend relive his past through angry words. “This was my cursed fate, but it seems like you haven’t even started yours.” His glare was enticing now, almost playful.
“You may have loved her enough to break the Guardian Code, but you didn’t pay the price for it like I did. I warned you, but you never listened. And now I’m the one who became a devil for your fucking sins.”
“Heeseung, I- I didn’t know.” Jake stammers, his throat tightening as his words catch, “I really thought we were both still… you know, angels.”
Heeseung scoffs and pulls away from Jake, giving him room to catch his breath. “Of course you didn’t. They thought I was the one that crossed the line, the one that corrupted us. I was the older one, it was me who had to protect us.” Heeseung steps out from the booth, “Watch your back, Sim Jaeyun.”
In his absence, Jake feels the air grow colder as he sits there frozen in his spot. The sound of his heart hammers so hard, he can practically hear it reverberate in his skull, an incessant pounding in the back of his head. The realization has Jake’s guts twisting about, leaving him physically nauseous at the mere thought that this was all because of Jake. He was the one to break the Guardian Code yet he said nothing when they were both dragged down to earth as mortals.
Memories of their time back in Celesta begin to flood Jake’s mind as a cold sweat breaks out across his skin. They had once been inseparable- a special bond between them that kept them joined together at the hip. Jake could recall the countless nights spent under the millions of stars laughing and sparring with Heeseung, exchanging stupid jokes that chipped at one another’s pride, but never the bond between them. Together, they faced every challenge as one, but Jake’s forbidden love severed that bond in an instant the moment he let Heeseung get dragged down to earth with him.
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After leaving the cafe, you feel a weight lift off of your shoulders. Feeling lighter, you make your way to the familiar building of Yeji’s dorm, its boring gray concrete standing in stark contrast to the cafe’s cozy greenery and warm ambience. You spot the iconic purple LED lights illuminating the third floor window on the corner of the building, the familiar color lifting your mood instantaneously as you pull your phone out to let her know you’re here.
Within minutes, a drunken looking Yeji and Ryujin stumble out of the building’s front entrance. “Y/n! Finally, we were waiting for you!”
You slip your arms between theirs as they drag you up the stairs and into their room which was booming with all kinds of music, a playlist including all of your favorites. Lia, sitting cross-legged on the furry carpet raises an eyebrow at you, “We just finished Uno, wanna join the next game?” You excitedly nod, taking a seat down next to her, waiting for your hand to be dealt.
The evening blurs by, beers and coolers in hand as each round of Uno gets more and more chaotic. “Yuna, where are your cards?” Lia asks after Yuna says Uno.
“In the deck?” She says innocently, batting her eyelashes at the older girl.
“Bullshit,” you shout, launching yourself at Yuna as you tackle her, the velocity of your hit causing her body to fall over. Underneath her, a pile of cards fling out and Chaeryoung lets out a loud squeal.
Chaos ensues the moment Yuna’s lame attempt at hiding her cards is revealed, and the game of Una dissipates. “You little cheater!” Yeji gasps, grabbing a pillow to smack over her head. In a matter of seconds, every throw pillow in the room is taken hostage and swung wildly at one another as each girl abandons their decks of cards. Giggles and shrieks fill the hot air, only half of the blows landing due to all of your collectively drunken dazes.
“Alright, I give up!” Yuna gasps through a fit of laughter, clutching her stomach as Ryujin and Yeji ravage her with silk pillows.
As the chaos begins to simmer, you find yourself sprawled across Yeji’s dorm room floor alongside Chaeryoung and Lia, each of you glowing with the buzz of alcohol. Around Yeji’s room are pillows scattered everywhere, Uno cards strewn in places they shouldn’t be and beer bottles rolling about. You let out a sigh of content, rolling onto your side. “I should really get going,” you mumble, stretching as you gather your belongings. “But I’ll see you girls later, alright?”
Each one gives you a sleepy farewell and you blow them a kiss, stepping out of the room carefully so as to not bother anyone else on the floor. When you reach outside, you happily welcome the crisp night air as it washes over your hot and sticky skin. It’s enough to help you make your way back to your dorm.
It was about 10:30 p.m. by the time you got back to your dorm. You shake away the faint buzz that runs through your body as you change into a comfortable pajama set, slipping into your bed quickly. Enveloped in the warmth of your bed, you close your eyes, feeling fatigue wash over you rather quickly.
A chilling sensation trickles through your vessels like an icy breeze hitting your bare skin. You open your eyes slowly, only to reveal a very large, empty ballroom stretching out before you. Its floor-to-ceiling windows line the walls, their sheer curtains adorning each window billowing in the wind as if they were calling out to you. In the eerie silence, you hear a creek from above that echoes through the space- a chandelier above you swaying, casting a haunting shadow against your figure while the candles flicker against the wind- fighting to stay alight in the harsh draft.
Cold raindrops string your cheeks like a slap and you raise a hand to your face to shield yourself from its further assault. Glancing around, your gaze catches on an elevated platform, and atop it sits a grand piano, dark in its solitude. Turning your head, you notice a barrage of seats in front of the platform, but not a single one is occupied, as though they were awaiting an audience that had never arrived.
Drawn to the piano, you step closer, but stop when the keys begin to move on their own- a hauntingly familiar melody filling the thick air. The notes claw at your heart as the melody moves through you, guilt dripping in its wake. And as the song plays on, it continues to rip into you for reasons you can’t understand, leaving your heart in an agonizing mess. Desperate for an escape, you tear your gaze away from the moving keys. Looking anywhere but the piano, your gaze darts around the ballroom until your eyes land on a pair of shadowy figures that seem to only vanish as soon as you focus in on them. With a frustrated sigh, you run towards the middle of the ballroom, bunching up the midnight blue gown to your core so you could run faster.
Without warning, the room begins to spin, blurring into a blinding white until you find yourself standing outside- soaking in a torrential downpour. The road seems to stretch on for miles, illuminated only by the distance lightning strikes, each bolt giving you just a second to see before you.
You were drenched now, your beautiful dress now clinging to your body uncomfortably while your skin, which was once warm in color, was now glowing pale from lack of circulation. Shivering uncontrollably, you notice a pair of headlights approaching you, piercing the darkness almost painfully.
With a loud boom, lightning cracks the sky directly in front of you, casting a temporarily bright light on the car. The sudden strike has the car swerving out of control, skidding against the wet road and into a railing as it flips over your head before crashing into the ground with a sickening crunch. A scream tears from your throat and you run to the car, fire emanating from the vehicle as you strain to listen for anything- a cry, a voice. Falling to your knees, you realize there’s only silence.
You crawl around to the front of the car, ignoring the shattered glass that presses into your knees and look into what you believe to be the front of the car. Through the disfigured windshield, you make out two very bloodied figures, slumped in their seats and drained of any warmth in their bodies. Feeling an acidity lurch forward in your throat, you swallow hard and turn away, tightening your stomach uncomfortable as you crawl back to a different spot.
Away from the site, you look down at your hands, horrified to see blood streaming from your arms and down your hands like crimson tears, splashing onto the ground in a haunting fashion. Unable to bear the weight of everything, you close your eyes. In your panic, all sound seems to deafen around you, but the cold downpour of the rain still remains.
Time stretches on endlessly- until a small sound breaks you out of your panic. Opening your eyes, you catch sight of a bottle of pills spilled across the ground. With trembling hands, you pick up the bottle and read the words Valium just before the label begins to blur due to the misting in your eyes. Suddenly, a blood-curdling scream pierces the air and you drop the bottle, gaze jerking upwards.
Standing before you is a girl- practically a mirror of yourself- but her mouth hangs as if it was dislocated and her eyes a pit of darkness. On either side of her stands two shadowy figures, their forms unrecognizable as they slowly encroach upon your space. As they move in on you, the haunting melody begins to play once more.
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“Y/n, are you even listening to me?” Jake asks, poking your side. His voice, once a source of comfort, now a catalyst for a blow out that seemed to be oncoming. Blinking rapidly, you force your eyes on him to focus, “You’re zoning out again!”
“I’m just tired and I have a headache. So please, stop talking.” You plead with the boy, pulling a pair of headphones out from your bag. He frowns, but you do your best to ignore the sparkle in his eyes as you lean into the textbook in front of you, the words blending together in a haze.
It had been six days since that nightmare- six days of on and off sleep, and you were resenting Jake more and more for reasons you couldn’t understand. Maybe it was the lack of sleep, but just being in his presence was upsetting you, and the sound of his voice had you reeling with anxiety. The very scent of him had you thinking of that stupid melody.
Thirty minutes go by without a word from Jake, and you almost forget he’s next to you until his familiar voice interrupts the calm silence once more, “Do you know how to do this question?”
“Jake, I think I’m going to go for a walk.” You say abruptly, shoving your things into your bag. Jake watches in utter confusion as you stand up from the table you were studying and stride away, scratching at his head when he watches your figure leave the area. The headache that had begun to recede now starts to pound at an intensity you’ve never felt.
“Whoah, whoah, whoah! where are you off to in such a rush?” A voice calls, and you turn around to see Heeseung approaching you.
“Not right now, Heeseung.” You say bluntly, moving past him without breaking your hurried strides.
“Hey, talk to me.” His voice is low and calming, and you almost feel your heart flutter at the sincerity in his voice. You hesitate, searching his eyes for a sign of that coldness he’s always had since the first day you met him, but you don’t see it. In fact, you see a warmth in him you don’t recognize, but it weirdly eases the tense coil in your gut.
“I just need some air,” You say, a tremor in your voice. Without letting him respond, you continue walking, but a strong grip on your wrist stops you. “H-Heeseung?!”
“I said, talk to me.” Heeseung’s voice drops even lower now, laced with that familiar intensity you knew so well. His stare is almost predatory like, and you feel your breathing become irregular as you cower under his gaze. “Don’t shut me out, Y/n, I don’t like that.”
You tug on your wrist, testing the waters to see if he’ll let you go, but his grip only tightens. “Heeseung, really. I’m ok, I really just need some air.”
“I’ll come with you then.” His words are gentle, but you knew there was some hidden agenda in the way he spoke to you. He starts to walk forward, stringing you along with ease like a silent declaration that you belonged to him.
“Alone, Heeseung.”
“Y/n, you need me, stop fighting it!” Normally, you would feel frustration bubbling beneath you, but his insistence almost has you flushing at the cheeks. Still, the desire for solitude held priority over everything else, outweighing your flutter of confusion.
“Heeseung, she said she wants to be alone right now!” another voice calls and you turn to see Jake. Irritation flares through you, fueling your short resolve.
“Jake, seriously, leave me alone.”
With Heeseung’s attention elsewhere, you seize the opportunity to pull out of his grip and walk off, quickening your pace enough so they don’t run after you. “Watch it, Sim.” Heeseung hisses, fury simmering in his words when he sees your back turned to him.
“You need to listen to what she says.” he snaps back, crossing his arms in defiance as he balances his own irritation. The air around them charges with a tension so thick a knife could cut it.
“I think you should listen to yourself first. Seems like there’s trouble in paradise.” Heeseung’s words drip with disdain as he pokes fun at Jake. “Not so buddy buddy anymore, I see.” Suppressing the urge to smirk, Heeseung turns around and walks away from Jake, leaving him in a can of frustration fixing to burst at any moment.
Back in your dorm, you find that your irritation only deepend with each step you took to get back. Desperate for some relief, you grab a Red Bull and a bottle of vodka, mixing them into a tumblr in attempts at creating a potent cocktail. You damn sure didn’t accomplish any studying today at the Jeffrey building with Jake by your side, and you know you’d need more than just a little caffeine to power you through the night. So you hoped the vodka would keep you pleasantly buzzed as you hit the books, another all nighter.
Settling into bed, you place your laptop on the lap desk Yeji convinced you to buy earlier in the semester, and dive into your studies. For a few hours, you pat yourself on the back as it seems that your concoction is working wonders. But slowly, the weight of staying up for days pulls you under, and you drift off.
Eventually, your nap is interrupted by a sharp knock on the door. “Who is it?” You call out, wiping away the cold sweat that clung onto your skin. Another nightmare- though the knocking on your door kept you from finishing this one.
“Jake.”
You sigh, bracing yourself before telling him to come in. “Why are you here so late?” You ask, pointing to your digital clock which reads 12 a.m.
“Why are you avoiding me?”
You glance around your room which was softly illuminated by your glow-in-the-dark stars on your ceiling. “What are you talking about?”
“You haven’t been talking to me as much. You’ve been snapping at me a lot, avoiding my calls and texts, and it’s always me initiating the conversations recently.” His words come out in a rush, and for the first time since the nightmares started, you finally feel yourself sympathizing with him.
With a sigh, you sit up in your bed and cross your legs, patting the space next to you for him to come sit. Maybe it was time for you to finally tell him what was going on, you could only keep running for so long. “Jake, I’ve been having these awful nightmares that have been keeping me up at night. It’s been ruining my sleep, so I’ve been pulling away from everyone recently. It’s not just you.”
Your words offer only a small measure of comfort towards Jake, his tense shoulders only half sagging, “That’s not everything, Y/n. You’re not telling me enough.”
“I don’t know what else to tell you, Jake. Really.”
It’s quiet for a moment, each second stretching out as Jake thinks about what to say. “Okay,” He says softly before moving closer to you. His thighs touch yours as he speaks in a much lower voice now, “Y/n, just promise that you’ll talk to me next time. No secrets, I miss you too much.”
His words seem to stir something deep within you, and you feel that familiar warmth of affection you had held for him before all this chaos and confusion. The tenderness in his gaze- it felt almost foreign now, like you didn’t recognize him. But his words brought that familiarity back to you almost instantly. And he missed you, and that struck a chord within you that had your pulse beating at tenfold.
Without even thinking, you bring your hand to his cheek, cupping it gently and running a thumb over the plush of his skin. He closes his eyes, leaning into the touch with a sigh. “Jake…” you whisper, feeling the warmth of his cheek send butterflies through your body. In a matter of seconds, you close the distance between you, pressing your lips softly against his.
The feeling of his lefts against yours felt almost natural, as if some hidden version of yourself had already loved Jake in another world. So for a moment, you stay like that, your lips lingering on his in a silent exchange of intimacy. When Jake finally pulls back, he doesn’t go far- his forehead opting to rest against yours as his hands cup your face with the same tenderness in his gaze.
“Y/n…” he breaths, looking into your eyes. You match his gaze with an intensity you’ve never felt before and he pushes his lips onto yours again, this time with a passion almost desperate, like he’s been waiting lifetimes for this. “You drive me crazy,” he murmurs between open mouthed kisses, his voice rough with longing. He grazes his tongue along your lower lip and you let him slip it in almost immediately, gasping when the wet muscle tangles with your own.
The sensation leaves you breathless and you weave your fingers through his hair in an attempt to deepen the kiss. He shifts his hands to the back of your head, guiding you down onto your bed so he can slot himself between your legs. With his body pressed between your core, you let out the softest moan, leaving the space in Jake’s sweats tightening. “Jake- I need you…” You please, pulling at his hair.
He lets out a string of groans, instinctively grinding against you as you drag your fingers through his dark locks. “Don’t say that, I won't be able to control myself.” He says as he dips down to press kisses on your neck.
“I don’t want you to control yourself. Take me.” You whisper, your face buried into his hair.
“You’re killing me, Y/n.” He whispers, his hands slipping underneath your camisole. His cold hands ghost over your breasts, leaving you to shudder at the temperature difference when he finally cups them in his large hands. “You’re so cute when you shake…” He squeezes them firmly, flicking his thumb over your nipple. The unexpected action elicits a high-pitched moan out of you, a sound that seems to only encourage him further.
With a deliberate slowness, Jake pushes your camisole up to your neck, his eyes devouring the site of you laying bare before him. “So pretty…” He murmurs, his tongue tracing the shape of his lips. As he takes in every detail, he moves one of his hands down to your shorts, slipping his fingers under your waist band. “Can I?” He asks, his voice dripping with restraint.
You nod quickly, biting your lip with impatience. “Just fucking touch me already.” You manage to squeak, the tremble in your voice drawing out a low chuckle from Jake as he slides your panties to the side, quickly inserting a finger into your wet cunt.
“Oh my God, Y/n. You’re soaking.” He groans as his finger collects your juices, pumping in and out with lewd sounds. His finger moves in and out with an almost embarrassing ease, the sensation sending sparks through you as you cry out. Receptive to your body’s needs, he inserts a second, then a third finger, quickening his pace. The way your hips lift off the bed to meet his hand has his cock twitching under the restraints of his briefs and sweats, begging to be released.
“Jake- I’m gonna cum!” You cry out, feeling your walls clench around his slender fingers.
“That’s it, angel.” He praises, curling his fingers just right as he feels your walls spasm around his fingers. “Good girl… Just like that.”
His pace slows down significantly as he lets you ride out your orgasm on his fingers, your breathing erratic as his digits continue to bend randomly just out of plain fun. “You did so good for me, angel.” He murmurs as he slips his fingers out of you, cleaning them off with his mouth. The sight alone has you shivering, and before you can speak, he’s got you trapped in a lewd kiss.
You taste yourself on him as your tongues connect, the idea of your arousal being shared in such an intimate kiss is intoxicating and you can’t help but want even more. “Jake…”
“What is it, baby?”
A flush spreads across your cheeks, but at this point, you’re too desperate to care. “I need to feel you,” You reach your hands out for added effect, “I need to feel your cock inside of me.” The whine in your voice is almost embarrassing, but he only lets out a pleased hum in response.
Jake pushes off of you just enough to strip you of your shorts and panties. His eyes never leave yours as he reaches down to push his sweats off next, his briefs following right after. You hold your breath when you see his cock spring free, pink and achingly hard due to Jake’s neglect towards himself.
“See how hard you’ve made me, angel?” He whispers, wrapping a hand around himself. His eyes don’t leave yours as he gives himself a few strokes, smirking when he watches your eyes glisten at the sight.
“Hurry up, Jake.” You say, grabbing his wrist. With a soft laugh, Jake lines himself up with your entrance and presses against you, drawing out your desperation. “Please, I need you so bad.” You beg, wiggling your hips for friction.
He sucks in a breath, feeling the pressure of your pussy rub against his tip suddenly, “Be careful, angel.” He says, pulling back slightly to give himself a few more strokes before finally entering. Inch by inch, he pushes himself into you, closely observing your face for any signs of pain. Eventually, he bottoms out and waits for your signal to move.
You tap on his shoulder twice, your silent signal for him to start thrusting. With a relieved sigh, he begins to move his hips back and forth, relishing in the way your walls hug his cock so well. The stimulation of his member rubbing against your walls has you seeing white, and you swear you can practically feel each vein moving against you as he ruts into you.
As time goes on, the snaps of his hips become sharper and sharper. “Augh- Y/n… I’m gonna cum.” He pants, the thrusts becoming messier by the minute.
You can barely manage to cry out a response due to the speed at which he’s thrusting into you, so you just moan instead, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him down to you. Latching your lips onto his, you feel his hips stutter in rhythm before he stops, a sudden warmth beginning to fill you up.
The stillness of his hips allows you to catch your breath as you smile against him, your arms wrapped around his neck. “That felt so nice, angel.” He whispers into the crook of your neck, slowly pulling out of you and plopping onto the space beside you.
With him laying next to you, his face so close to yours, your mind starts to flood with thoughts that aren’t clouded with lust. His features are softer now, no longer laced with an intensity of desire that you had seen just minutes before. You never thought you would find yourself in a position like this with your childhood best friend, but in this moment, it feels so right. Like it was always supposed to be this way.
All that tension and anger you had felt towards him seemed to have melted away the second he said he missed you. You don’t understand why there was so much resentment to be had in the first place, not after all the nightmares. They were so vivid and dark, so specifically intimate in regards to the pain and loss. You felt as though you would’ve been more keen on reaching out to Jake for some comfort due to the intensity of those nightmares, though to your surprise it was the opposite. But it didn’t make sense, so you could only rationalize your sudden resentment towards him due to your lack of sleep. But it didn’t matter now because everything felt so far away suddenly, all that bitterness and anger- as if it belonged to someone else this whole time.
Right now, you felt an infatuation so strong it almost terrified you- like you would do anything for Jake.
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Your resentment towards Jake has subdued quite a bit since yesterday, though you have yet to speak about what transpired between the two of you since last night. Maybe it was the awkward tension that now lingered between you, finally softening the angry heat you unfairly pushed onto his agenda for so long- you no longer yearned to stray far from his presence in that same way anymore. Still, it was clear that the dynamic between you and your best friend had changed since yesterday, and Heeseung had noticed.
“Y/n, are you feeling better after yesterday?” Heeseung asks, shifting his attention away from the powerpoint on his laptop to catch the subtle exhaustion on your face.
It was just you, Jake, and Heeseung sitting at a table located in the Cornox building, working together to complete the finishing details of your econ project. You dreaded the moment you had to meet up with them today, scoring three energy drinks before coming here.
“I guess I am, yeah,” you reply, though you don’t feel confident in your answer. Exhaustion sticks to you like cling wrap, an annoying pest that won’t go away no matter how much caffeine you ingest. The little sleep you had managed to acquire from falling asleep while studying with that alcoholic concoction in your blood offered you little to no respite; your mind still tangled with the memory of the nightmares and the intimacy you shared with your best friend.
Last night’s nightmare may have been cut short by Jake’s knocking, but it was no less brutal than the last one. The memory of it lingers, raw and fresh in your mind as you replay the scene in your head- a boy and a girl screaming at one another, their voices cracking while that same damn melody plays in the background. They were fighting, though you couldn’t remember why. But it didn’t matter, the fight itself wasn’t what disturbed you; it was the grief that had your heart sinking six feet deep that was all encompassing as you listened to their choked sobs.
The girl’s voice in particular was especially painful, strained and choked with an anguish that felt too real to your own. Every word was like a drag, and it was clear that she was on the edge of something devastating, irreversible. Somehow, you knew that she was losing the will to keep fighting.
You snap out of your thoughts, realizing Heeseung’s eyes are locked onto yours a bit too intently, a dark cloud shrouding his irises. Clearing your throat, you shift your focus down to your laptop as you feel a rush of heat travel to your cheek, Jake stirring in his seat across from you.
“I’m glad to hear that,” Heeseung says in a whisper, his voice laced with an intensity that sends a ripple of uncertainty through you. His hand lands on your arm and he gently rubs it up and down, but the gesture only makes you more uncomfortable, like he’s staking a claim on you. “But I can tell there’s still something on your mind. You know you can always talk to me, right?”
You give him a reassuring smile, hoping to ease his mind, “Really, I’m doing fine.” you tell him, ignoring the unease settling in your stomach. You're hopeful that your response will be enough to quell his concern, but it only seems to encourage him to pry further.
“I’m just worried about you… Your happiness is what matters the most to me.” His hand slides down to yours, and before you can pull away, he interlocks his fingers with yours, the coolness of his hand masking the warmth of your own. The gesture feels intoxicatingly intimate, and you freeze at his sudden possessiveness.
Jake’s gaze lingers over the sight of your interlocked hands and he freezes. Clenching his jaw, he forces himself to tear his gaze away before beginning to restlessly tap his fingers on the table, a pathetic attempt to calm his irritation.
“I appreciate it, really.” You murmur, pulling out of his grip. “I’m going to go get a snack, do you guys want anything?” Heeseung bites his lip before settling back into his seat, though his eyes stay sharp as he focuses on your figure. When nobody responds, you pad away, eager to escape the escalating tension growing in the air.
“What are you doing with her? You’re making her uncomfortable!” Jake says, breaking the silence when he sees your figure turn the corner.
Heeseung only smirks, ignoring the glare Jake shoots at him, “I’m not making her uncomfortable, Jake. This is what she needs, and it sure as hell isn't you.” Heeseung stares at the boy in an almost taunting way before continuing, “So whatever the hell you did with her last night? I’d suggest you take a step back before regretting it.”
“Do you not hear yourself? You sound crazy, Heeseung.”
“Crazy?” He murmurs, his voice dripping with dark amusement, “Maybe, but that’s what devotion looks like, Jake. I wouldn’t expect you to understand it.”
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Despite his best wishes, your resentment towards Jake returned in the following weeks following his encounter with Heeseung. As you grew closer with Heeseung, the more calls and texts you ignored from Jake. Your resentment and anger with Jake came back stronger then ever, and there was no amount of explaining or convincing that would manage to make a difference. Every interaction he had with you just felt like you were pulling away even further.
Jake slumps into the couch at the mere thought of you again, staring at the floor as his friends talk about a variety of subjects. “Jake, I know the floor’s interesting but you really need to stop staring at it.” Sunghoon said, flicking Jake on the arm.
“Me and the floor are doing just fine, thanks,” Jake mutters, grabbing a pillow to hug close to him.
“Then why are you staring?” Jungwon asks, nudging him in the side.
Jake ignores his friend. “I’m not,” he grumbles.
“What happened to staring at Y/n?” Niki teases, tossing a throw pillow at Jake to get him to look up.
Jake scowls, suddenly regretting that night he struck up a conversation with them at that party. “First of all, I don’t stare at Y/n. And second of all, nothing happened. We’ve just been busy with midterms and everything.” Jake focuses on keeping his voice neutral as he explains to his friends why he seems so out of it, but they don’t seem to be convinced. He wasn’t lying, nothing really had happened after they slept together. They didn’t even talk about it, but somehow that resentment came creeping back while Heeseung slithered his way in.
Jay and Niki exchange a look, “You don’t look very busy staring at that floor-”
“I’M NOT STARING AT THE FLOOR!” He snaps, patience breaking in two.
Sunghoon’s dorm room erupts into a fit of laughter as Jake does his best to ignore the vibrations of his friend’s joy, trying to calm himself. “I’m just thinking of the best way to get home this fall break. I’m going to visit my family.”
“I think there’s a bus route that passes right by your neighborhood,” Jay says, his chest heaving as he calms down from laughing so hard, “It’s like a five-hour journey though.”
“Yeah, that’s the only issue… the bus ride is gonna suck ass.”
Jake hated riding buses. They always made him motion sick, and even more than that, there was too much time to think when the journeys stretched past 30 minutes. He knew as well as anyone else that there were things weighing heavily on his mind, things he’d rather not confront. But there was no other way to get home. His car was stuck at his parents’ place, and he wasn’t going to spend a break on campus where you and Heeseung would probably be around. So he’d have to make do with the bumpy, five-hour ride.
And bumpy it was. Long too, almost nauseating had it not been for the dimenhydrinate he popped into his mouth twenty minutes before getting on the bus, though it did nothing to quell the sick feeling in his chest when he thought about you and Heeseung. You weren’t even talking to him now, Heeseung was always around to pull you away from him when he got close enough to speak to you. Jake couldn’t deny but admit he felt helpless around Heeseung. There was nothing to do but hope that Heeseung would somehow mess up and that you’d come crawling back to him. With his head against the rumbling window, Jake decides he’d rather not spend the rest of the bus ride dwelling on things he couldn’t change, and shuts his eyes instead.
The plan was for Jake to stay home for a week. Maybe that’d be enough time for you to cold down and figure out whatever it was that you were dealing with. And maybe Jake could even use that time to screw his head on straight too. But more than that, he wanted this time to spend with his family and Layla, his dog that he misses so much. So he welcomed the distraction warmly, his family and dog being a bittersweet reminder of life before Heeseung.
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A week has passed now since Jake came home, and there was still no sign of action from your side, much to Jake’s dismay. The silence between the two of you was deafening, and the flicker of hope that Jake was holding onto was starting to dissipate. It frustrated him to no end not knowing where he stood in your life, and the lack of response to his plethora of texts had him pulling his hair out.
Deciding against boarding the same insufferable bus ride again, he opts to drive the car his dad bought him for his 16th birthday back to campus instead. As he prepares to leave, his mom waves him off at the door. “I’ll see you guys during Winter break,” he says with a forced smile, “Yes, I’ll tell Y/n you miss her. Yes, I will ask if she wants to come visit.”
Jake winces as he says your name and draws in a long breath when he sees his mom reenter his home. With one last look at his childhood home, he starts up his car and travels back to campus, the long and lonely journey giving him some temporary space to breathe.
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“Y/n, isn’t this music box pretty?” Lia calls, waving a wooden box delicately in her hands towards you. You pause, setting the clothes in your hands back down on the table and walk towards her, focusing your gaze on the box in her hands. The box is beautifully worn, Its edges carved with a delicate gold and the mahogany wood bruised and marked by years of handling. Handing the box to you, Lia nods her head in encouragement as if to tell you to open it.
Slowly, you pry the box open, revealing an interior lined with a plush red velvety interior. In the center was a mock stage that sat a delicately crafted figure- a woman sitting before a grand piano, as if to showcase her playing the melody that was to come from the box. “This is beautiful,” you murmur, raising the box closer to your face.
“I think you need to wind it up,” Ryujin says, peeking over.
You flip the box over, closing the lid shut and winding up the cool metal of the notch on the back. With anticipation, you open the lid one more time and watch as the figure that was sitting comfortably on the stage begins to rotate slowly. Then, the melody begins- soft and delicate.
The music plays out softly, but it swells the surrounding area in a dream, wrapping you in a haunting embrace. Each note carries a whisper from a place you can’t quite reach, stirring something unfamiliar within you. As the tune unfolds further, grief begins to settle deep beneath your skin and you start to feel goosebumps prick at your arms.
This melody sounds awfully familiar. Closing your eyes, you wrack your brain, listening intently in hopes of hearing that one note that may resonate within you and tell you why it sounded so familiar. This melody… It was the same one from that dream. The shadowy figures, the spotlight, the grief… These same notes brought forth the same emotions from that dream, a subtle reminder of something buried yet not forgotten. The box suddenly feels heavier than it needs to, almost as if it’s absorbing the weight of your emotions now, each note twisting a blade further into your chest.
A disturbing chill runs down your spine as you realize that this wasn’t just some music box, but a piece of your past. A fragment of your past- one you couldn’t remember. “Y/n, are you alright?” A voice draws you out from your inner turmoil, and you turn to see Ryujin looking at you with concern.
You give her a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes, waving her concern off quickly, “I’m ok, just so invested in the music. I think I’m gonna buy the box, actually.” You tell her, tucking it into your basket. Ryujin returns your response with a nod, though her eyebrows remain furrowed. With the music box tucked away in your basket, you finish shopping at the vintage shop with the girls until they’re satisfied. You do your best to try and stay present, though the haunting melody of the music box stays playing in a loop in your head, each note barely scratching an itch you can’t quite reach.
You’re in a daze as you reach the register, whether it be from the lack of sleep or the sudden revelation of the melody, you’re not too sure. When you leave, the girls are discussing amongst themselves which store they want to visit next, but you’re quick to wave them off and tell them you’re heading home. “Just feeling tired, that’s all.” You tell them, but you knew that was a lie. You needed to speak to Jake.
You hadn’t spoken to Jake since break had started, which had been a week and a half now. You’re aware that your resentment had led him to going back home for break, though Jay had reached out to you recently to let you know he came back to campus yesterday.
Ever since your nightmares had started, you could feel this growing resentment towards him, whether you could explain it or not, you just couldn’t stand to see him. Though there was a period of time in which the walls around you had fallen down for just a few days after a flurry of emotions led you to sleeping with him. It didn’t last long as Heeseung slipped in and rebuilt that wall brick by brick with a possessiveness that everyone except you could see. But this melody, it irked you to reach out to him, so you did. You don’t waste a moment texting him to come over as soon as you get back to your dorm.
His reply is almost instant: on my way.
He’s knocking on your door within minutes, not bothering to use his key in your room because honestly, he’s not sure he has that liberty right now. You call out to let him know to come in, and when he does, you see a sad puppy eyed looking Jake enter. Old you would’ve teased him about it and pulled him into a tight embrace, but now, you’re showing him your music box almost immediately.
Without a word, you wind up the familiar notch and open the lid, letting it fill the small space. As it does, you watch as Jake’s expressions shift almost immediately, his eyes darkening and his body going rigid. “You know this melody, don’t you?”
He walks over to your bed, sitting on the edge. With a swallow, he nods his head before dropping it into his hands. He clenches his jaw, knowing you won’t talk until he explains himself, “This is the same song Alice was going to play that night.”
“Alice?” You echo, your confusion only growing, “What the hell are you talking about? Who the fuck is Alice?”
He looks away, his eyes searching the room as if to look for an escape. His hands run up and down his thighs in an anxious manner as his breathing quickens, “Y/n, it’s not easy for me to explain… I don’t know if you’ll trust me after, or even believe me for that matter.”
You can feel the frustration rising and you scoff, “I’m past caring at this point, Jake. I’ve been having nightmares for weeks.” You bring your hands to your hair, your eyes misting with tears. “I can’t sleep, can’t think straight. And this fucking melody- It’s driving me insane.”
Jake’s eyes flicker with a hint of sympathy, but he holds back the urge to reach out and cradle your cheeks with his large hands. Instead, he holds your frustrated gaze with his own, “Y/n, Heeseung and I… We’re Guardian Angels. Or, we were.”
You feel a wave of disbelief ripple through your body and you let out a pathetic laugh, “Shut up.”
“Fine.” He deadpans, his jaw tightening in annoyance as he crosses his arms. God, you knew he could be stubborn, but you didn’t know he was this stubborn. You smack his arm and he winces, rolling his eyes before continuing. “A long time ago, Heeseung and I were Guardian Angels, best friends too. We were assigned to protect a girl named Alice. But Y/n, we failed her. Our selfishness blinded us and she died.” He pauses, voice wavering as if he’s fighting to continue. A harsh weight settles across your chest, and you struggle to keep eye contact with your best friend, “Our selfish actions led to the death of her parents, and she killed herself after because of it.
“When she died, we were kicked out of Heaven and sent here as mortals with a curse on our shoulders as punishment.” Jake tries his best to explain, pausing at awkward moments and clicking his tongue when he can’t find the right words, “You’re Alice, or really just her reincarnation- carrying bits and pieces of her memories. I think these nightmares are your way of regaining your memories. It was kind of like this for me as well.”
When he presses his lips together, you know he’s finished speaking and your heart swells up in anger. You stare at him, mind swirling in a mess of thoughts as your voice gets caught in your throat. “So you- you knew?” Your voice shakes as you stand up from your bed, “You knew this whole time I was having these dreams- these fucking nightmares, that I was reliving the past of someone’s life that isn’t mine? You didn’t say anything?”
Jake lowers his head, tears pricking his eyes now, “I… I thought I was protecting you.” he whispers.
“Protecting me?” You laugh obnoxiously loud, the lack of sleep hitting you like a truck. You fall to the ground, clutching your bed side table for balance, practically sobbing hysterically now, “Well you did the damn opposite, Jake.” The way his name falls from your lips has him physically flinching. “I’ve been suffering, doing everything I can to not fall asleep. My grades are falling apart because I can’t stay awake in class long enough to pay attention.”
Jake stands off from your bed and crouches down next to you, placing his hand on your arm in an attempt to console you, but his sudden touch only has you recoiling backwards. “I was being selfish, Y/n. Please, I love you.” He cries, “I didn’t want to lose you again.”
“Lose who?” You ask, letting out a bitter laugh as you stand up. “You never let me decide, did you?”
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You pound on Heeseung’s door, not a care in the world for the other rooms closely neighboring his own. Your own festering anger practically bubbling up your throat, you continue your assault on the wooden door until a tired looking Heeseung opens up. “What the hell-” He starts, but you shove him inside, slamming his door behind you.
His dorm room is an assortment of black and red, feeling more like a dark lair than a college dorm. This was your first time in his dorm, and you noticed how he took it upon himself to cover the bright white walls with crimson themed posters and red LEDs to decorate its borders.
Ignoring the creepily gothic trinkets that adorned his desk, you approach him with anger. “Who the fuck is Alice?” You seethe, shoving him onto his desk chair.
His own responding smirk has you fighting to not punch him right then and there, “I see you spoke to Jake,” His voice is soft, almost too soft to be speaking to someone approaching him with such anger. Standing up from his chair, he steps towards you, the heat from his body engorging your flame, igniting it further. “Tell me, vixen… What did little Jakey tell you?”
“He told me everything,” You take a deep breath in as you let the words tumble out of you in a rush, “How you two used to be angels, that you both made some ‘selfish decision’ with some girl named Alice. And that I’m-” Your voice catches, and Heeseung brings his hand up to your chin.
“Go on, continue.”
“He said that I’m her.”
Heeseung’s smirk seems to drop for a second, surprise flashing across his face, but he’s quick to recover. “Selfish decisions,” he says to himself, voice thick with amusement, “So that’s what he calls it.” He pauses to let out a bitter laugh, pulling away from you despite your inner reluctance. “Did he tell you that we were actually in love? Did he tell you what loving Alice cost me?”
The look on your face only confirms Heeseung’s answer. “Jakey, so naive… And did he tell you that he loved you, too?”
You nod, your own admission twisting something inside of you. His smirk only widens, and you feel your anger bubble further as you wait for Heeseung to speak again. “Oh, sweetie.” he whispers, “Jake doesn’t love you. He loves Alice.”
“You’re lying…” You say, stumbling back as you process his words.
“Am I?” He asks. “I have reason to believe that Jake didn’t tell you the full story.”
You avoid his gaze, closing your eyes in an attempt to shut out the reality before you. Observing your delicate state, Heeseung steps closer, catching you around the waist and pulling you in with a strong grip that sends goosebumps along your skin. “Michael, or what some may know him as the Archangel, transformed us into mortals. Though Jake got to stay linked to his angel hierarchy, I was unfairly condemned into life as a mortal devil.
You look up at Heeseung, briefly fazed by the intimate distance he has put you in before stammering, “What- what do you mean?”
“What I mean, is that Heaven is not always, just. That I am the one paying for Jake’s sins when it was him who was the direct cause of Alice’s tragedy.”
“I don’t believe that, Jake would never do such a thing.” Despite the words that fall from your mouth, a gnawing doubt creeps into your mind, making it harder for you to believe them yourself.
Heeseung’s gaze sharpens, an enticing calmness in his voice, “Y/n, you’re the reincarnation of Alice, which means you’re here for one thing and one thing only.”
Before you can utter a response, he pulls you in closer, his arms wrapping around you tighter than they ever have. His hips are pressing against yours now, causing your breath to catch in your throat. “I don’t understand…” you murmur, unable to tear your eyes away from his lustful gaze.
His eyes lower, his intense a seeping poison as he pierces your soul, “You’re here to do what Alice couldn’t,” His proximity overwhelms you as his lips hover just inches from yours, “We can be immortals together, we just need a sacrifice.” His voice is almost desperate now as he talks about immortality, a wish only mortals could ever dream of.
The room almost spins as you process Hesseung’s words, your mind reeling with a plethora of thoughts. “Immortals? Both of us?” You question, feeling faint as the revelation of your reality slams into you.
“Y/n, you’ve never just been a human, not entirely. You’re Alice’s reincarnation, and you carry an ability no other human mortal does.” He says almost matter of factly, like you were supposed to just understand that at face value. “If we end Jake’s life, we’ll earn the right to escape our own. You’ll be free from this nightmare.”
“I just don’t understand. What happens to us if he dies?”
His breath catches in his throat as he thinks of his next words carefully. “We won't ascend back to being angels, our path is different.” Heeseung’s eyes darken as he answers your question.
“Different how?”
“We’ll become immortal devils, Y/n. But we’ll be with each other forever, knowing that we avenged Alice.” With Heeseung’s answer, you swear you could feel the room get colder. His proposition wasn’t just about getting revenge, but a lifetime of something eternally darker. “It’s either this, or you both face a life of torture chosen by fate.”
A harsh shiver rips through you as you realize the weight of what Heeseung is asking of you. A surge of conflicting emotions crashes through you, but there’s something darker that simmers just beneath the surface. A part of you is almost intrigued by the idea. Despite the alarm bells sounding in the back of your head, you find yourself suppressing the sounds, nodding before you can think. “Am I really just here to get revenge for Alice? Is that all I’m here for?”
Heeseung’s lips curl into a smirk, leaning even closer than he was before. Now, with his breath fanning against your lips, you can’t help but press your thighs against each other as a warmth spreads below. “The world may have made you an instrument for her revenge… but I can give you purpose. Let me make you mine. Give me all of you.”
With a sudden and intense pull, he presses his lips against yours fiercely, the kiss rough and urgent as though he was marking you- claiming you. You respond with equal fervor, your arms pulling him in by the neck as you open your mouth, letting his tongue greet yours. As your tongues fight for dominance, his hands slide down to your ass, gripping them with a strength that you’re sure will leave bruises in the morning. “You drive me insane/” He growls, pulling away to shove you onto his bed.
“Take your clothes off.” He commands, stripping himself of his shirt, his belt and pants coming off right after with practiced ease. Blinded by desire, you follow his lead and slip out of your clothes, feeling overwhelmed by his gaze as it rakes over your bare skin with an unrestrained hunger. “You’re going to do exactly what I tell you, do you understand?”
You manage a weak nod, though it doesn’t satisfy him in the slightest. His hand comes down on your ass, a loud slap echoing in his dorm room. “Use your words, slut.” He growls, his voice rough with callus.
“Yes, Heeseung,” you whimper, your voice low with submission as the burn from his hand begins to sear through your body.
Satisfied with your response, he crawls over you, his bare chest brushing against you before flipping you over onto your stomach. Without warning, he aligns himself with your hole and thrusts himself forward, using your slick as lube. As his length pushes into you, a gasp rips from your throat upon feeling his member violently stretch you out all at once. “Hee, it’s- it’s too much!” You gasp, a sob of pleasure and pain wracking your body as you’re forced to yield to his cock filling you up completely.
“Fucking take it, slut.” He curses, slamming his hips into yours at a savage pace, disregarding your pleading. With a groan of pleasure, he leans forward to press his chest into your back, forcing you into his mattress. He continues his relentless abuse on your pussy, his balls slapping against your core as he thrusts in and out. “You’re doing so well, y/n.” He praises, pressing kisses on your ear, noticing the clench of your pussy let up as you finally relax around him.
He finally gets off of you, giving you a little more room to breathe “Look at you, sucking me in so well,” he coos, leaning back so he can watch his cock slip in and out of you. In an act of pure lust, Heeseung reaches forward to grab your arms, pinning them behind you while using his other hand to press your head further into his bed. “Taking me so well,” he moans, reaching the hilt of your cervix as he adjusts himself, allowing him to push deeper into you.
With your sobs muffling into his sheets, Heeseung lets go of you and wraps his arms around your waist to flip you, quickly aligning himself between your legs. With a practiced quickness, he shoves himself back into your swollen cunt, his own moans mixing with yours. With his pelvis kissing the back of your thighs, you desperately claw at his back for purchase, “S-slow down, Heeseung!” You beg, feeling a coil tighten around in your stomach.
“Just a little longer, vixen.” He encourages, snapping his hips into you even faster.
“I’m gonna cum, Hee!” You clench around his member, your vision going white as a wave of pleasure crashes over you. He doesn’t stop though, in fact, he pushes your legs together to lay against his shoulder, picking your ass up off the bed to buck into you even deeper.
“Fuck, just hold on a little bit more, vixen. I’m almost there,” he says as he clenches his jaw, feeling the way his balls clench up in anticipation. In just a matter of seconds, he’s emptying his load into you as he presses desperate kisses into your calf, lightly biting you in between each kiss.
A shiver of pleasure runs through you as his warmth fills your core, and you close your eyes, savoring the sensation as he lets himself soften inside of you. Moments later, he carefully pulls out, running to grab a towel so he can catch whatever drips out of you. His touch is gentle as he tends to you, softly prodding at your swollen folds as he collects his arousal into the towel. Once he’s finished, he slips into a pair of loungewear and tosses you one of his shirts and your panties, his scent overwhelming your senses.
Settling back into bed, he opens his arms out for you to crawl into, and you do so with a large smile. Laying your head on his chest, you let out a long sigh of content and rest your hand on his abdomen. “Y/n…” he says, tangling his fingers through your hair. You hum out a response, closing your eyes. “Will you join Hell with me?”
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A piercing ringtone jolts Jake from a heavy but dreamless sleep, the screen of his phone lighting up to illuminate the room. He reaches his hand out from the warmth of his comforter to fumble around his bedside, searching blindly until he finds his phone. “What the…?” He mutters, squinting at the brightness as he picks it up to check the caller ID.
“Jake?” Your voice trembles through the speaker, hardly recognizable through the thick layer of distress.
Jake blinks, his grogginess fading away fast as he registers the shakiness in your voice. “Y/n? What’s going on? Are you okay?”
A broken sob tears through you as you respond, twisting his gut in half, “I’m sorry I blew up on you,” you murmur, your voice thick with regret, “I went out with the girls to some club to let off some steam… But I can’t find them now- I just want to go home.” A choked sob catches at your throat, and Jake winces.
“Where are you? Send me your location, I’m calling an Uber.”
“No!” You cry, your voice dripping in desperation. “The storm is too heavy for Uber to be in service right now.” He looks out through his window where rain streaks the glass in torrents, driven hard by the wind that shakes the reinforced glass. “Can’t you come get me? I really need you…”
A heavy silence follows on the line as Jake listens to the heavy thunder rumble through his building, a menacing growl undercutting his hesitation. He knew it’d be dangerous to go out and get you in this weather, but the thought of leaving you out there- drunk and alone, that mere thought had guilt eating away at his chest. “Shoot, okay. I’m on my way.”
Grabbing the first hoodie he sees on the floor, he runs out of the door, not bothering to slip out of his pajamas. As he slams the door to his car and starts the engine, another flash of lightning illuminates the campus, casting an electric glow in front of him. A haunting tremor rips through him as the all too familiar scene unfolds in front of thim. This is for you, focus Jake.
He grips the wheel till his knuckles turn white, pulling out of the residential parking lot until he reaches the rain-soaked road, just 8 miles until he’d reach you.
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Miles away from where Jake’s car is likely struggling through the storm, you lie nestled in Heeseung’s arm, his steady warmth a stark contrast to the violence of the world outside. The faint glow of your phone illuminates your face in the darkness of Heeseung’s dorm room, casting shadows on Heeseung’s gaze as he studies you intently, a glint of pride mingled with something far darker.
“You did so well, my sweet vixen.” He murmurs, his voice dripping with a seductive danger. His lips graze the side of your head as he places a chaste kiss to the side of your head, but it's charged with an intense desire. He lifts his head to gaze out of his window, watching the storm rage on with a deeply satisfied expression, his hand trailing down your arm to trace slow and deliberate patterns along your bare arm.
The storm outside has grown merciless now, lightning ripping across the sky with a savage frequency. You watch as the harsh light outlines Heeseung’s sharp features, presenting his expression to you in an almost otherworldly glow. You bite your lip, a conflicting storm brewing in your chest as you dwell upon the twisted satisfaction in knowing your vengeance is shared with Jake now, but also the guilt that tears at your resolve knowing you’ve put your best friend in utter danger.
As your mind starts to waver, Heeseung flickers his gaze downward in time to catch your doubt, his thumb tracing along your cheek in order to ground you. “Don’t think about it,” he whispers, his voice soft though commanding, “This is what he deserved, for ruining Alice. For ruining you.”
His words cut through you like a blade, a bitter reminder of why you’re here- why you even exist. You were never meant to be anything more than an instrument for a dead girl’s revenge, forged by the sins of Jake who let his forbidden love blind him from his duties. His desperate selfishness was your reason for existence, and it made you feel like a curse.
An anger ripples through you as you remind yourself that your fate was decided long before you were even born, but you tell yourself that being bound to Heeseung through a shared destiny that could only be fulfilled by Jake’s death would give you that liberation you so desperately needed. Even though your immortality would be granted in the form of becoming devils, you knew that you’d finally be free. Released from this tornado of a mess you didn’t sign up for.
Heeseung’s grip tightens around your wrist, pulling you in closer. His gaze sears into you as though he can see every doubt crossing your mind. “Stop thinking about him, stop thinking about the stupid deal. Just look at me.” The roughness in his voice forces your gaze on his and you note a darkness clouding his vision as he speaks. “We are meant to be together, no matter what happens- so stop thinking about everything.”
This would all be over soon. In the blink of an eye, you and Heeseung would grow horns and descend from the mortal world, bound by the blood of an angel, forever entwined in a twisted act of vengeance.
⠈⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁
It’s only a few hours later when you receive a call from an unknown number, pulling you away from Heeseung’s warm embrace. “Hello?”
“Hi, is this Y/n L/n?” A voice asks from the speaker's phone.
“Speaking.”
You look to Heeseung and place the phone on speaker, putting the device between you two. “You were listed as the first emergency contact for Sim Jaeyun. We regret to inform you that he passed away in a fatal car accident on road 29 about two hours ago.”
The voice continues to drone on about legalities and visiting hours in the morgue, but you don’t listen. The voice on the phone pales in comparison to the sound of your now throbbing heartbeat as you fixate your gaze on the linen bed sheets of Heeseung’s pathetically made dorm bed, waiting for the call to hang up. When it does, Heeseung draws his fingers under your jaw, forcing you to look at him. “Y/n…”
You look at his eyes in search of something- anything. You didn’t know what you wanted to find- relief, empathy, satisfaction, regret even? But his face is unreadable as he stares back at you. “Heeseung…” you whisper, tears welling up in your eyes.
“I know, it’ll be okay.” He says, pulling you into a tight hug. “He was my best friend too.” He tells you, more to himself than you. His voice feels empty, barely audible as he recalls the memories he shared with Jake from another lifetime- one that was filled with laughter and promises that they had long since broken.
You cling onto Heeseung, pressing yourself closer in a desperate attempt for comfort as a massive wave of guilt washes over you, and for a second you feel like you made the wrong choice. Jake was your best friend, and for a fleeting moment, you wonder if this line with Heeseung was something you shouldn’t have crossed. Your friendship with Jake was indescribable, he was your home- and it felt wrong for you to be in a world without him.
But as your heart continues to ache for Jake, your grief quickly begins to shift into something much colder. Anger begins to simmer just below the surface, violently shaking your insides to the point you almost feel nauseous. The memory of what Jake did- how he shattered your life- Alice’s life. The way he drove you to kill yourself, to give up on what you loved the most. Any sorrow you ever felt for him, any bond you ever shared- it dimmed with every beat of your heart until there was nothing left.
Heeseung pulls away from you just enough for him to look into your eyes. His irises search your own, to see whether or not your heart was matching his- and when he finds his answer, he smirks. “Do you feel it?” he whispers, “It’s starting, Alice.”
#enhypen#enhypen x reader#enhypen x jake#enhypen x heeseung#heeseung#jake#jay#jungwon#niki#sunghoon#sunoo#enhypen smut
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Of Seashells and Sweet Nothings - Vil Schoenheit x reader
You're cursed to love everyone except Vil, and he's cursed to love only you. And yet somewhere along the way, it seems the curse has skipped you.
aka Merman! Vil x Reader
The wedding was simple, almost understated, despite the weight of its significance. You stood beside Vil Schoenheit, hand in his, as the officiant spoke words you barely registered. The setting sun bathed everything in a warm glow, but your mind was elsewhere—far away from the ceremony itself.
Vil looked impeccable, as always. His eyes were on you, piercing and focused, but you couldn’t quite make out what he was thinking. It didn’t matter. This wasn’t about feelings; it was about fulfilling a duty, one you had known was coming for a long time.
The vows were exchanged, and that was that. You turned, now bound together, walking side by side down the aisle, your thoughts already moving on to what came next. The ceremony was done. A formality.
And yet, as you glanced at Vil, something about it didn’t feel as hollow as you’d expected.
In this world, balance is everything. The fae of the forests, the beastmen of the land, the merpeople of the water, and the Valkyra—yes, birdpeople—of the wind, each control their own domain. They’re the most powerful clans, each lording over their respective elements like some kind of cosmic HOA. And, of course, they all have peace treaties in place to keep everyone from accidentally (or intentionally) obliterating each other.
But no treaty is quite as peculiar as the one between the merpeople and the Valkyra.
See, hundreds of years ago, some genius thought it would be a grand idea to curse the heads of these two clans with the most impractical love curse in existence. The curse works like this: the head of the merpeople is doomed to love only the head of the Valkyra, while the head of the Valkyra is cursed to love literally everyone else except the head of the merpeople. It’s like a bad romcom plot, but with deadly consequences.
Here’s where things get complicated: the merpeople’s head, their heir, only appears once every 30 years. If they’re not with their “one true love” (a.k.a. the head of the Valkyra) at least once during every full moon, they’ll keel over and die before the next heir can pop up. No heir, no merpeople, and—boom—extinction.
This is where the "deal" comes into play. To avoid this catastrophe, the Valkyra agreed to this bizarre matchmaking curse, which now means every new head of the Valkyra has to marry the head of the merpeople. No exceptions, no complaints. The two of them must meet monthly, like clockwork, for a kind of celestial forced date night.
And just to make things even worse, if the Valkyra head doesn’t marry the merpeople’s head, they lose their ability to fly. Wings, grounded—forever. Imagine that: a birdperson without the ability to fly, as if the universe needed to throw in an extra slap to the face.
Over the generations, this has become less of a romantic arrangement and more of a job requirement, with each Valkyra head treating it like an odd but unavoidable business deal. They don’t have to like it; they just have to show up, check the box, keep the merpeople from turning into tragic folklore, and—of course—keep their own wings in working order.
That’s the way it’s always been: cursed, inconvenient, and awkward.
It was supposed to be like every other betrothal ceremony between the Valkyra and the merpeople. The air was thick with the usual tension—two clans bound by duty, not desire, meeting at the ceremonial altar like this was some awkward, forced blind date.
You, newly anointed head of the Valkyra, stood there, your wings giving an occasional twitch behind you like they’d rather be anywhere but here. You had been briefed on the whole ordeal—“meet the heir, exchange some greetings, throw the ring at them, and fly off.” Simple. This wasn’t about love. It was a political arrangement to keep the merpeople alive and the peace treaty intact.
Across from you stood Vil Schoenheit, heir to the merpeople. His golden hair shimmered like the sun reflecting off the ocean, and his face? It was disgustingly perfect, like he had been carved out of marble by some lovesick artist. In theory, the curse would make him fall for you the moment he saw you. After all, that was how it worked—he was bound to love only the Valkyra head.
But what no one expected—least of all you—was that you would be the one caught off guard.
Vil was striking, yes, but it wasn’t just his looks. It was the way he carried himself, like he was fully aware of how radiant he was but still carried an air of unapproachable elegance. Most Valkyra heads would have felt the usual disgust at their cursed partner, barely making eye contact before tossing the ring and flying off. That’s how these things went. They were practically trained to do it with their eyes shut.
But you?
You found yourself staring, actually intrigued. Instead of the wave of revulsion that was expected, something odd stirred in your chest. It wasn’t love, not by a long shot. It was…fascination. A curious pull that made you hesitate, which was enough to stun the entire audience. This had never happened before.
Vil, on the other hand, looked as if he had just seen the personification of his deepest dreams. He was besotted, as was expected by the curse, but there was something different about the way he gazed at you. Normally, the merpeople heir would fall head over heels, but Vil was genuinely taken by the way you moved, the way you stood. It wasn’t just the curse making him like you; it seemed like you intrigued him beyond the curse's binding.
And then you did something no Valkyra head had ever done before.
Instead of throwing the ring and bolting out of there like your predecessors, you knelt down in front of him, offering the ring with all the grace and seriousness of a real proposal. The crowd gasped. This wasn’t in the script. You were supposed to go through the motions, not act like this was some kind of grand romance!
Vil’s eyes widened, and for the first time in this ridiculous tradition’s history, the merpeople heir didn’t just fall in love out of obligation—he fell head over heels, utterly smitten, entirely because of you.
The moon hung high in the sky, casting a silvery glow across the beach where you waited, wings fluttering with nerves you tried to ignore. This was it—the first official "date" since your marriage to Vil Schoenheit, the current head of the merpeople. A union bound by centuries-old curses, it was normally a formality, something both clans did with begrudging acceptance.
Merpeople were only allowed on land during the full moon, and this was the first of many such meetings.
But tonight, you felt something different, something almost... hopeful. Maybe it was the fact that you had brought a gift, a small but meaningful token. A delicate brooch shaped like a seashell, with silver feathers—merging your worlds into one. No one had told you to do this; in fact, most Valkyra heads would never bother. But something about Vil made you want to try.
You spotted movement as Vil emerged from the water, his sleek, golden hair gleaming in the moonlight, not a strand out of place. He looked, as always, impossibly perfect, like he had stepped straight out of a painting. His eyes—a sharp, intelligent violet—landed on you, though they didn’t hold the frantic eagerness you’d seen in other cursed merpeople heads before. No desperation to win you over with excessive gifts or grand gestures. Instead, Vil’s gaze was steady, though undeniably smitten, a subtle warmth in his expression.
“Good evening,” Vil said smoothly, gliding toward you with an elegance that felt effortless.
“Evening,” you replied, your voice casual but steady. You extended your hand, offering the small box with the brooch inside. “I, uh, brought you something.”
Vil’s brow raised slightly, but he took the box from you with practiced grace. “A gift?” he asked, his tone curious as he opened it. The faintest smile touched his lips when he saw the brooch, a rare expression on someone usually so composed. “This is... unexpected.”
You shrugged, trying to play it off. “Thought it’d be nice to bring something for a change. You know, switch things up.”
Vil inspected the brooch with an appreciative eye, his fingers brushing lightly over the delicate silver feathers. “It’s beautiful,” he said, pinning it to his chest with his usual attention to detail. “And thoughtful. Not many would bother with such an effort.”
You couldn’t help but chuckle at that. “Yeah, well... I’m not like the others.”
Vil’s smile widened ever so slightly, the amusement in his eyes growing. “No, I suppose you’re not. And for that, I’m grateful.”
The two of you walked along the shoreline, side by side, the conversation surprisingly light. Normally, these meetings were stilted affairs, with the merpeople head desperate to please and the Valkyra head barely tolerating their presence. But this? This felt... different. There wasn’t the usual tension, the frantic attempts to impress, or the thinly veiled disgust. Instead, there was something approaching ease.
“You’re not what I expected,” Vil said after a few moments of comfortable silence.
“Oh?” you asked, glancing over at him.
“In the past, the Valkyra heads were always... distant. Formal. Like they couldn’t wait to leave,” Vil explained, his gaze softening as he looked at you. “You seem... different.”
You shrugged, a smile tugging at your lips. “Figured I’d try to make this less painful for both of us. I mean, we’re stuck together, right? Might as well try to get along.”
Vil laughed, a soft sound that seemed to surprise even him. “A practical approach. I like that.” His violet eyes twinkled with amusement. “And I must admit, it’s a refreshing change not to feel like I’m constantly chasing after someone.”
You smirked, crossing your arms. “What, the other merpeple heads weren’t exactly thrilled about this whole curse thing?”
Vil gave you a knowing look. “Imagine being hopelessly in love with someone who can’t stand the sight of you, every single time. That’s usually how these meetings go.”
You nodded, understanding the frustration in his words. “Yeah, well, I’m not about to make this harder than it needs to be. Besides, you’re not that bad,” you added, giving him a playful nudge.
Vil chuckled, shaking his head. “Not that bad? I’ll take it.” He paused, then added more softly, “You’re not like the others either. You’re... different.”
His words hung in the air, and for the first time, you saw something more in Vil’s eyes than just the effects of the curse. There was genuine admiration there, something deeper than mere obligation. It wasn’t just the curse binding him to you—he liked you, plain and simple.
The moonlight reflected off the water, casting long shadows as the two of you continued to walk, talking about everything from your respective clans to the pressures of leadership. It was the first time in centuries that a merpeople-Valkyra meeting wasn’t a disaster. There were no awkward silences, no rushed goodbyes, just... peace.
And maybe, just maybe, something more.
As the night wore on, you both found yourselves sitting on a rock near the shore, watching the gentle waves lap at the sand. The air was calm, filled only with the quiet hum of the ocean and the soft rustle of your wings.
“I wasn’t expecting this,” Vil said after a long pause, his voice softer than before. “Not the curse, not the marriage, and certainly not... this.” He gestured between the two of you.
“Yeah, me neither,” you admitted, your eyes focused on the horizon. “But hey, it could be worse, right? At least we don’t hate each other.”
Vil smiled at that, a real, genuine smile. “No, we don’t.”
For the first time, you realized that this might actually work. You weren’t just honoring the tradition anymore. You were connecting—really connecting—and it felt... right.
And as Vil glanced at you, a soft, unreadable expression on his face, you wondered if maybe, just maybe, this cursed love story wasn’t as doomed as everyone thought.
Vil looked away, his hand brushing against yours ever so slightly. “Until next month then?”
You grinned, your heart lighter than you expected. “Yeah. Until next month.”
The sun had barely risen when you made your way to the beach, the gift cradled carefully in your hands. You had spent days crafting it—a pendant of polished obsidian shaped like a feather, inlaid with shimmering sea glass that caught the light like scattered stars. You knew merpeople loved shiny things, and you figured this would catch Vil’s eye. The excuse to see him outside of your usual monthly meetings? Well, that was something you were still sorting out in your head.
By the time you reached the shore, the waves were calm, the water a deep blue-green that mirrored the sky. Vil had mentioned that he sometimes liked to swim during the day, despite the fact that the full moon was required for him to walk on land. It wasn’t a guarantee that you’d see him, but... you hoped.
And then, as if on cue, he appeared. Vil surfaced from the water with the same ethereal grace as always, his hair glistening under the sunlight, the sleek scales on his tail catching the light like gemstones. He spotted you instantly, his violet eyes locking onto yours. A small, amused smile tugged at his lips as he swam closer to the shore.
“Well, this is a surprise,” Vil said, his voice smooth as the sea itself. “It’s not our usual meeting time. To what do I owe the pleasure?”
You shifted awkwardly, suddenly feeling self-conscious. “I, uh, just thought I’d drop by. You know, casually. No big deal.”
Vil raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying your nonchalance. “Casually, hm?” He leaned slightly against the rocks at the edge of the shore, his eyes narrowing in playful suspicion. “You didn’t come all this way without a reason, did you?”
Your face heated up immediately. Great. This was going well.
“I, uh, made you something.” You fumbled with the box before finally thrusting it toward him, trying to avoid his amused gaze. “Here.”
Vil’s eyes lit up with interest as he took the box from your hands, opening it with the same precision and care he gave to everything. His smile widened when he saw the pendant, the sea glass glittering against the dark stone.
“A gift? For me?” His tone was teasing, but you could tell by the way his fingers brushed lightly over the pendant that he was genuinely pleased. “You’ve outdone yourself.”
You rubbed the back of your neck, trying not to be overwhelmed by the way he was looking at you. “I just thought you’d like something shiny. You know, since you—um—merpeople and all…”
“Shiny things?” Vil’s smile grew, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “Yes, we do have a weakness for them. But this... this is exquisite. I can see you put a lot of effort into it.”
He clasped the pendant around his neck, adjusting it until it sat perfectly against his chest. He was absolutely preening, and you could feel your face heating up even more under his gaze.
“You’re... welcome,” you mumbled, desperately trying to keep your composure.
Vil chuckled softly, his eyes gleaming as he watched you fidget under his scrutiny. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you quite this flustered. It’s endearing, you know.”
“Flustered? Who, me?” You tried to brush it off, crossing your arms and turning your head away, but your cheeks were burning, and you knew you weren’t fooling anyone. “I’m just—uh—being polite. That’s all.”
“Polite, of course,” Vil replied, clearly enjoying your discomfort. “Well, I’m very grateful for your... politeness today.” He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping just enough to make your heart skip a beat. “And for the gift. Truly.”
You weren’t sure if it was the warm sunlight, the proximity to Vil, or just the fact that he looked so pleased, but you felt your heart flutter in a way you hadn’t expected. It was odd—normally, the Valkyra head’s instinct to despise the merpeople head would have kicked in by now. That strange hatred that had been passed down through the generations? It just wasn’t there. You liked him. Really liked him. And from the way his violet eyes held yours, you couldn’t help but think that maybe he felt the same way, curse or no curse.
Before you could say anything else that might make you look even more ridiculous, you quickly cleared your throat and took a step back. “Well! I should probably get going. Don’t want to, uh, overstay my welcome or anything.”
Vil tilted his head slightly, a knowing smile still playing on his lips. “Leaving so soon? Pity. I was rather enjoying your company.”
You tried not to trip over your own feet as you backed away, your wings fluttering nervously behind you. “Yeah, well, next time. I’m sure we’ll... have more time to talk.”
Vil chuckled softly as he watched you take off, his gaze following you until you disappeared into the sky. “I’ll be waiting,” he called after you, his voice filled with unmistakable warmth.
Later that evening, as Vil returned to his quarters beneath the sea, Epel leaned against the wall with his arms crossed, grinning like a mischievous cat. “Ya know, Vil, you can pretend all you want, but I’ve never seen you so smitten.”
Vil shot him a withering glare, though there was no real malice behind it. “Smitten? Hardly. I am simply... appreciative of their efforts.”
Epel snickered, clearly not buying it. “Yeah, sure. ‘Appreciative.’ That’s why you’ve been wearing that pendant all day like it’s some royal heirloom.”
Vil’s eyes narrowed, though a slight blush crept up his neck. “It’s a thoughtful gift, and it suits me. That’s all.”
Rook, who had been listening from nearby, chimed in with a delighted grin. “Oh, Vil, mon ami! It’s wonderful to see you so moved by affection. But do be careful. The merpeople’s curse has brought heartache to many before you.”
Vil glanced at the pendant around his neck, his expression softening just a little. “I know the risks, Rook. But this time... it feels different.”
Rook smiled, though there was a hint of concern in his eyes. “I hope you’re right, Vil. For your sake, I truly do.”
Vil didn’t respond, his fingers absently tracing the edge of the pendant. Deep down, he knew that Rook’s concerns weren’t without merit. But for the first time in centuries, a merpeople-Valkyra union felt like more than just a curse or a duty. And maybe, just maybe, this time would be different.
It was your usual monthly meeting, but this time, you had something special planned. The night was calm, the sea glimmering under the moonlight as Vil stood waiting on the shore. His presence was as striking as always—elegant, regal, with an air of serene confidence. And yet, tonight, there was something different about the way you looked at him.
You smiled as you approached, feeling your heart beat a little faster. "I’ve been thinking... since you bring so many treasures from the sea, it’s only fair I give you something from the skies in return."
Vil’s eyebrow arched in curiosity. “Oh? And what exactly do you have in mind?”
Without a word, you stepped closer, your wings unfurling behind you, casting long shadows across the beach. Before Vil could question you further, you gently scooped him up in your arms. He stiffened for a moment, his usual composure slipping just slightly.
“You’re trusting me to carry you, aren’t you?” you teased, your grin widening.
“Of course,” he replied, though there was a flicker of surprise in his voice. “I simply wasn’t expecting... this.”
With a strong beat of your wings, you soared into the sky, Vil held securely against your chest. The world below began to shrink, the crashing of the waves fading into a distant hum. Vil’s gaze widened as the mountains and clouds stretched out before him, closer than they’d ever been. For someone used to the ocean’s depths, this must’ve been an entirely new perspective—one where the world opened up endlessly.
You flew higher, taking him to the peak of the mountain your clan called home. The horizon stretched out in every direction, the first light of dawn beginning to paint the sky in hues of pink and gold. You landed softly, still holding Vil, and set him down gently on a smooth rock overlooking the expanse below.
Vil stood there in awe, his usually sharp eyes softening as he took in the sight. “It’s... beautiful,” he murmured, his voice almost a whisper, as if speaking too loudly would disturb the tranquility of the moment.
You, however, were no longer looking at the sunrise. “It is,” you replied, but your eyes were on him, drinking in the way the first rays of light illuminated his features—the golden strands of his hair catching the morning glow, his sharp profile outlined against the sky, his violet eyes reflecting the dawn. “It really is.”
He turned his head to you, catching the way you were staring, and for once, Vil seemed... uncertain. Perhaps it was the rare vulnerability of the moment, or maybe the fact that you were seeing him in a way no one had before. Either way, you didn’t look away.
“I meant the sunrise,” Vil said, his lips curving into a small smile, though the warmth in his gaze betrayed him.
“So did I,” you lied, the faintest blush creeping up your neck.
The two of you stayed like that for a while, Vil leaning against you as the first light of the sun bathed the mountain in gold. The silence between you wasn’t awkward—it was peaceful, almost as if the curse that tied your clans together had, for once, allowed something genuine to grow between you.
But as the sun climbed higher in the sky, you knew it was time to return. With a heavy heart, you carried Vil back down, feeling the weight of the impending separation settle in your chest. For the first time, parting felt harder than it should’ve been.
When you finally set him back down on the beach, Vil’s feet touched the sand, but he lingered close to you for a moment longer. “I’ll admit, that was... something I never expected.”
“I like surprising you,” you said, your voice softer now, unwilling to let this moment go just yet.
Vil smiled, his usual sharpness returning to his features, but there was an undeniable warmth beneath it. “You’ve become quite adept at it.”
As you prepared to leave, you couldn’t shake the sadness that gnawed at you. The monthly meetings were all you had, but each one felt shorter than the last. It seemed like the instinct your ancestors had—the hate, the disdain for the merpeople—had completely skipped you.
“You know...” you started, your voice barely above a whisper, “I don’t think I ever hated you. Not even when we first met.”
Vil tilted his head, curious. “And why do you think that is?”
You looked at him, a bittersweet smile tugging at your lips. “Maybe the valkyra hate genes just skipped me. Or maybe... I’m just lucky.”
Vil didn’t respond immediately, but there was something unspoken in the way he looked at you. Something that told you he felt it too—that strange, undeniable pull between you both. Not just the curse, but something deeper.
With a final, reluctant glance, you spread your wings and took to the skies, leaving him on the shore once again. But this time, the separation felt heavier, like leaving behind a part of yourself.
And though you couldn’t see it, Vil stayed there for a long while after you left, his gaze fixed on the horizon, already counting down the days until he’d see you again.
The moon wasn't full, and yet here you were, standing by the shore once again. It had been weeks since you and Vil started meeting outside of the required "monthly date nights." You told yourself that each visit had a purpose—bringing him a new gift, asking about the state of the seas, or simply “checking in.” But after each visit, it became harder to deny the real reason you kept showing up.
Today, you'd brought a set of polished gems woven into a necklace, knowing how much Vil appreciated delicate craftsmanship and, of course, shiny things. You were proud of it, but there was an undeniable anticipation building inside you—not just to give him the gift, but to see him again.
As you neared the shore, Vil was already waiting for you, his figure poised like something out of a painting. His golden hair glimmered even in the fading light of dusk, and his violet eyes caught yours with a familiar, almost teasing look.
"You do realize it’s not the full moon," Vil remarked as you approached, though there was a clear warmth in his voice. "What brings you here this time, again?"
You smirked, holding out the necklace. “Just thought I’d drop by... with this.”
Vil’s eyes lit up at the sight of it, and he accepted the necklace with his usual grace, though his smirk was just as playful as yours. "You’ve been quite generous lately. I’m starting to think you're looking for excuses to see me.”
“Excuses? Never.” You chuckled, though the heat rising to your face betrayed you. "I'm just keeping the tradition alive—maybe putting in a little extra effort."
Vil raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “A little extra? Darling, this is bordering on obsession.”
You rolled your eyes, but there was no denying it—especially when you saw the way Vil’s fingers traced the necklace, his appreciation clear in the way his lips curved into a satisfied smile.
“Well, you’re one to talk,” you shot back. “I seem to recall a certain someone gifting me a chest of pearls the last time I dropped by. You could decorate a palace with the amount of sea treasures you’ve been giving me.”
Vil laughed softly, his voice like velvet. “I wouldn’t want to be accused of neglecting my duties as your devoted spouse, now would I?”
The teasing back and forth had become your favorite part of these meetings—there was something light, effortless, in the way the two of you communicated. And the more time you spent with Vil, the more that odd sense of duty morphed into something genuine.
Suddenly, Vil’s attention shifted to the cliffs behind you, and when you turned, you saw two figures approaching—both of them unmistakable.
Rook and Epel.
“Oh,” you muttered under your breath, feeling a bit exposed. You hadn't expected company.
Rook, ever the observant one, smiled widely when he caught sight of you. “Ah, the elusive Valkyra head themselves! A rare sighting, but of course, you must have been drawn here by our beautiful Vil, oui?”
Epel, on the other hand, snorted as he sized you up. "Yeah, no kidding. You look like you’ve been hit with the ‘love curse’ pretty hard. I bet if we got closer, we’d see little hearts in your eyes.”
Your face flushed immediately. “W-what? No way! That’s ridiculous. I’m just—uh—here to visit. That’s all.”
Rook’s eyes gleamed, and he exchanged a knowing glance with Vil. “Oh, but I think there’s more than just a simple visit in play here! Non, non, non—you have the air of someone who has fallen hook, line, and sinker as they say.”
You opened your mouth to protest, but the blush on your face wasn’t helping your case. Epel grinned mischievously, crossing his arms. “You should just admit it. You’re so head-over-heels, you don’t even see it.”
Vil, standing beside you with a graceful smirk, finally spoke. “They do have a point, you know. It’s becoming rather obvious.”
You glared at him, feeling both flustered and betrayed. “Whose side are you on?”
Vil’s lips curved into a teasing smile. “I’m always on my side, dear. But if it helps, I do appreciate the attention.”
Epel snickered again. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone so whipped.”
“Oh, merci, Epel,” Rook chimed in, his gaze turning fond as he looked at Vil. “Though it seems our beloved Vil is no different. A love so mutual—ah, it’s truly a sight to behold!”
Vil shot Rook a warning glance, but it didn’t diminish the contented gleam in his eyes. “I wouldn’t go that far,” he muttered, though the slight blush on his cheeks said otherwise.
You, meanwhile, were desperately trying to hold onto the remnants of your dignity. “Alright, alright, enough of this. I’ll be going now.”
But before you could make your grand escape, you acted on impulse—a bold, unexpected impulse. Leaning in, you quickly pressed a kiss to Vil’s cheek, your face practically burning with embarrassment the second your lips made contact. You barely had a second to register the shock in his eyes before you turned on your heel and shot into the sky, your wings carrying you away at lightning speed.
Behind you, you could just barely hear Rook and Epel erupt into laughter.
After you left, Epel turned to Vil with a wide grin, clearly trying to contain himself. “Well, that was somethin’. I ain’t ever seen you look so...”
“So elated?” Rook finished for him, smiling like the cat that caught the canary. “Oh, Vil, you are besotted, aren’t you? Don’t try to deny it!”
Vil’s hand slowly rose to touch the spot where you had kissed his cheek, his expression softened, his eyes glittering with a rare mix of surprise and delight. Despite himself, a small, pleased smile tugged at the corners of his lips.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Vil replied, his voice carefully measured but the satisfaction in his tone impossible to miss. “But they certainly know how to make an exit, don’t they?”
Epel raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, keep tellin’ yourself that. But don’t think we didn’t notice the way you lit up the second they kissed ya.”
Vil glanced at Epel, one elegant eyebrow raised, but he couldn’t entirely suppress the smirk that followed. “Maybe I’m more appreciative of affection than you give me credit for.”
Rook clapped his hands together, looking utterly delighted. “Oh, Vil, this is magnifique! But remember—while this love may shine brighter than the stars, the curse has not yet been broken. Tread carefully, my friend.”
Vil’s gaze flickered, but the smile didn’t leave his face. “Yes, well... I’m willing to take that risk.”
And for the first time in centuries, a merpeople head wasn’t just a smitten puppet of a curse—he was utterly and entirely in love.
The vow renewal was supposed to be a dignified affair, steeped in tradition and whatever formalities came with being the head of the Valkyra clan. But dignified was hard to maintain when your heart was doing somersaults every time you so much as glanced at Vil Schoenheit. It didn’t help that he was ridiculously perfect in that “effortlessly ethereal sea deity” way, while you were standing there, sweating like you’d just run from a sea witch. Not that you had, yet.
This year was different. After a full year of avoiding your feelings like the plague, of meeting Vil whenever you could justify it (and even when you couldn’t), you were done. If there was one thing you were more tired of than being cursed, it was this weird romantic limbo where you both pretended you didn’t want to rip each other’s clothes off every time you were alone together.
And so, you stood at the sanctum, between the mountains and the sea, surrounded by both your clans—Rook’s over-the-top grin already making you nervous as he clearly prepared to be... well, Rook. Epel was next to him, arms crossed, his face a mix of intrigue and really?
But you had your ace: the magnum opus of gifts. The first gem ever given by a merperson to the first head of the Valkyra clan. A symbol of true love that—if things went sideways—could also be the final nail in the coffin for your cursed family line. Yay for high stakes!
The vow renewal started, and there was Vil, looking so majestic that you kinda wanted to scream. Why did he have to be so damn perfect? Couldn’t he just look a little tired, or maybe slightly disheveled? Nope. Not Vil.
Your vows were an absolute blur. You muttered something that vaguely sounded right while trying not to pass out from the sheer intensity of his gaze. When it was finally over, you had the spotlight, and there was no backing out now.
“I have something,” you said, your voice wavering but determined. “Something to prove that I’m done letting fear rule over us.”
You pulled out the gem, and suddenly, it felt like every pair of eyes in the sanctum was laser-focused on you. Especially Vil’s. His violet eyes widened slightly, and you almost dropped the damn thing right there. But no. Not today, curse! You were going to face this head-on, and probably make a fool of yourself in the process, but hey, at least you were trying.
The second Vil’s fingers touched the gem—it shattered.
For a brief, terrifying moment, you stared at the fragments in your hands, heart pounding as your mind raced to some truly unhinged conclusions. Oh my god, I just cursed us even more, didn’t I? Have I doomed the entire Valkyra clan to eternal hatred of the ocean? Will we be landlocked forever? No more beach vacations, no more seashell necklaces—
Before you could spiral any further, a soft light emerged from the shards, and two shimmering figures appeared. A merperson and a valkyra, their voices carrying through the sanctum like a breeze. They told the real story, about how a jealous witch had cursed them, making sure they could never be together. The cure? True love despite the curse. And, as fate would have it, you and Vil had just broken it.
“Well, that’s one way to kick things off,” you muttered under your breath, still half-expecting someone to start panicking about the broken clan treasure. But instead, Vil—bless his elegant, perfect self—took your face in his hands and kissed you.
In front of both your clans, in front of everyone who mattered, Vil kissed you like the world had finally aligned in your favor. The kiss wasn’t just tender—it was a promise, a declaration that the curse had no power over what you two had built.
Then, predictably, Rook gasped. “Ah, l'amour! A love that shatters curses and binds souls together for eternity! The stars themselves tremble at the magnitude of your passion!”
You could hear Epel snickering next to him, probably waiting for a punchline. “Well, hell, guess we should’ve seen this comin’. That’s the most dramatic vow renewal I’ve ever been to.”
Rook, undeterred, continued his monologue as if he were on a stage. “True love! It breaks all chains, transcends all curses! You have done what many could only dream of!”
Meanwhile, you were trying to stay upright after that kiss. “Did... did we just fix everything? Is that it? Can I stop worrying about accidentally damning the clan now?”
Vil smirked at you, his hands still lingering on your face, his thumbs brushing gently across your cheekbones. “If you’re asking whether the curse is gone—yes, we’re free.”
You blinked at him. “No strings attached? No hidden fine print? The curse isn’t gonna boomerang back on us in a few years, right?”
Vil’s eyes glittered with amusement. “No fine print. You and I are no longer bound by fear.”
The next morning, you woke up beside him, which, honestly, was a surreal experience. Vil, looking all peaceful and not like the intimidating figure he usually presented to the world, was kind of adorable. Of course, you couldn’t resist leaning over and planting a soft kiss on his forehead.
He stirred slightly, eyes fluttering open as he murmured, “If you keep doing that, I might get used to it.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” you teased, sliding out of bed to make breakfast, because if you were going to start your curse-free life with Vil, you might as well impress him with your domestic skills.
You didn’t get very far before you felt arms wrap around your waist, pulling you back against a warm chest. “Leaving so soon?” Vil whispered against your ear, his voice low and just a little bit too seductive for this early in the morning.
“I was gonna make breakfast, but I can see how I might’ve gotten distracted,” you shot back, trying (and failing) not to grin like an idiot.
Vil chuckled softly, his lips brushing your neck. “Well, since we have all the time in the world now, maybe breakfast can wait.”
You turned in his arms, raising an eyebrow. “Are you proposing we spend the entire day in bed?”
His smirk was enough of an answer.
But you had plans. “Okay, okay. How about this: breakfast first, then we can lounge around and plan our next big adventure.”
Vil leaned in, his lips ghosting over yours. “Deal. But I’m holding you to that promise.”
And so, you started your first day of freedom together, planning all the adventures the world had to offer. Because now, there was nothing stopping you—no curse, no fear, just the two of you, ready to face whatever came next.
there's a lot of lore dump but I hope yall enjoyed it!!
also this was supposed to be star crossed lovers but I absolutely cannot do angst no comfort because I'm a baby.
Masterlist
#twst x reader#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland x reader#twst#vil schoenheit x reader#vil x reader#vil#vil schoenheit#vil schoenheit x you#vil x you
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Reblog to go on a date with your monster. Like to give them a little gift.
Look under the cut to see what meeting your joyfriend is like.
1 you walk into a messy apartment, it looks like this is their first place where they live alone, away from other angels. They're sitting on a Lome mattress, cuddling a stuffed animal and watching TV. Despite everything they're still beautiful, their body youthful, and sexless, and athletic, their four white wings forever stained with blood. They look up at you with rose gold eyes, afraid, apologizing for if they scared you. But to their surprise you don't shy away from them, and somehow they feel safe and pure when you sit down to talk to them.
2 you see them in the shadows, alone in the dark of an empty park, changing shape, first a muscular humanoid in armor, then a wolf dancing through the night, then a combination of both, then finally a modern human in a ragged trenchcoat. Despite all their forms, their eyes are always the same. They come up to you and bow with a smile on their face. You slowly aproch them, for whatever reason their voice seems so familiar. You greet them with your hand as you would an animal, even as they're in human form, as you slowly pet their scars for the first time.
3 within the golden halls of an ornate train station you see them for the first time, through the crowd with inhumanly green eyes. They notice you despite everyone else. And you notice everything off about them, the wrong numbers of teeth, their hands occasionally having more or less then five fingers before returning back to normal. It's wordless but it doesn't need words for you to tell them that they don't need to pretend to be human around you. And for a momment you see them, naked, with branches for antlers, and the wings of a monarch butterfly, a serpent's head where a human’s genitals would be, and teeth made out of broken glass, and then only a rose exists where they once stood, but you know you'll see them again.
4 you see them for the first time in an empty parking lot, a massive creature with black eyes and countless legs, glowing yet dark, as they come twords you they take notes in an unknowable language. They inspect you as the dark matter pitter patters across your face. You expect them to hurt you as they reach out their claw but they only gently pet your head. You can tell that they're suprised, you're more receptive then most humans are. They give you a small peice of food to let you eat right from their claw, and it tastes batter then anything on earth.
5 you meet them in a café on a quiet side street. They don't like being seen by too many people. Their body is beautiful, but so inhuman, tall and slender, with silvery armor covering them from the neak down, their face pale and their eyes long since ripped out and replaced with red mechanical replacements. They're a bit afraid you won't be ok with them when you first meet them, but you start talking, and though they're shy at first they like the sound of your voice. They let you pet their head and they cuddle up to you, and their body is warm like a churning machine as you hug them for the first time, and they feel comforted in your arms.
6 you see them in a dark subway station. They clearly once were human, centuries ago, their body forever young, but pale and skinny, their eyes turned white and their mouth jawless and fanged like a lampry's. Their body is entirely sexless, barely shielded from the cold by a ragged suit. Most people avoid them, but you ask if they're ok and they just look up at you, when you ask if they're hungry they nod. You agree to give them some blood, and it feels like they're giving you little kisses as you offer them your wrist. When they're full you hug their cold body, and for a momment they're made warm.
7 an undead servent slowly brings them over to you in a wheelchair. Though their mansion is beautiful it's trapped in time, and dark even in the daytime. You can see the computer they're trapped in, it must be decades old by now. They look at you with an avatar meant to look like a drawing of themself, or at least how they'd want to look. Something about them makes you want to touch them, but you know you never can. You put your hand to the screen, and you can feel the magic flow through you, and for a momment that's enough.
8 you see them sitting there alone in a bar. A slender androgynous humanoid, they're wearing a black suit but upon closer examination it's part of their body, never to be taken off. You sit next to them, and they smile at you, you talk for a few moments and it's like they know more about the universe then you could ever imagine. They pet your head, and it feels like it'll kill you, but it only makes you feel more alive. They hand you a business card with their number on it, it says they're a servent of hades, they tell you you can contact them again if you like, they'll be around. When you look again they're entirely gone once more.
9 walking through an abandoned mall you see them, a life sized puppet, with stars and moons on its outfit, and a painted mask for a face. Coming closer to them you can see there's red liquid on them, and strange otherworldly bugs and mushrooms on their body. When you try to touch them they float in the air, and move as if they're alive, for a momment you think they'll hurt you but they run away. When you find them again, tracking them down to a dark arcade, you see they're crying. They expect you to hurt them but you reach out to help them instead, nobody's ever tried to help them like that before...
10 you see them ontop of a skyscraper's roof. They youthful human wearing a leather jacket smiling as a massive reptile, with bat like wings, and massive steel fangs, and a tail like a scorpion's flies down to them. You wonder if they'll try to calm it but instead they move together like one being, their eyes the same yellow color. The creature comes twords you, fire in its mouth, and poison in its teeth. You realize the two beings are one in the same, as the wyvern bows its head, ready for you to ride it, with its human body at your side.
11 for a momment they chase you through the night, the hooded masked figure running twords you, blade in hand. But as you cross the street they can't follow, it's as if they've hit a wall. The gods themselves have bound them. While you're in safety you look at them, there's a sadness behind that mask. You wonder, if they can't hurt you here, would there be any reason to hate them, would they choose to spare you if they knew your face, your voice...
12 all you can see is blackness, yet there is no darkness, only this slick metallic liquid around you. The lake bubbles up creating a false body with its fluid, first male, then female, then both, then neither. It beckons you in, and you know it would not let you drown. When you step inside all you can feel, all you can see, is the fluid around you, and you feel as if you're being held.
#tumblr polls#polls#worldbuilding#writing#fantasy#urban fantasy#monster lust#monster lover#monster fudger#monster fucker#monster#enby#nonbinary#queer#queer romance#vampires#vampire#vampyr#faeries#faerie#faery#faecore#fae#angels and demons#demon#angelcore#fallen angel#angel#werewolves#werewolf
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Deals and Desires (final)
Sylus x OC | Midnight Stealth!AU
genre: smut, lil’ comedy, enemies to enemies who fuck
rating: explicit
description: You fail to find the brooch within 24 hours, so the twins suggest you offer Sylus something else in return for getting into the auction—your body. Turns out, your desires are aligned, no matter how twisted they seem.
word count: 8.8k
warnings: IMPROPER use of Evol, tentacle smut, “rope” bondage, lore from Midnight Stealth and the two chapters we meet Sylus (duh), Luke and Kieran being instigators, mentions of hentai, OC’s turned on by Sylus and his Evol and is conflicted, rough sex, breast play, fingering, oral sex (male and female receiving), double penetration, unprotected sex (this is fiction), standing 69, mirror sex, sneaky sex, electrostimulation, cum eating, multiple rounds.
a/n: IT IS DONE. IT IS HERE! I made a post saying imagine Sylus manipulating his Evol into tentacles to fuck OC with… and voila! This was born. I incorporated a lot of the game dialogue/events but also put my own spin on it. Asks, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated! 💌
You must be sick in the head.
Ever since you witnessed those black-red tendrils dissipate the man in black who abducted you into nothing but mere crimson specks, something strange awoke in you. Witnessing such a cruel death shouldn’t pique your curiosity, but beneath your horrified expression was a deep fascination for the leader of Onychinus’ powers. Not that you’d ever tell him.
A simple flick of the wrist or snap of the fingers is all it takes to summon those menacing black-red tendrils. The powerful mist would coil your vulnerable body, manipulate it, bind it—all for his intentions of resonating with you.
However, as the shopkeeper had stated, you can’t resonate with him. On a subconscious level, you’re rejecting him, scared of him, or disgusted by him. So you wonder: is it possible to fear him yet desire him also?
When Sylus proposed a deal that would aid you in your quest for the Aether Core, you couldn’t resist. You had twenty-four hours to find a brooch he had hidden somewhere in Onychinus’ base. Yet despite searching every nook and cranny, you came up short of nothing.
The first time Sylus caught you, he was reading a book on the couch. His calm demeanor didn’t match his appearance, which screamed sin. The gold-rimmed glasses on his face matched a gentlemanly scholar's, but his body was adorned in a lavish red robe, with a V-line low enough to expose his toned pecs. Seriously, who was he showing off for?
“Get out.”
Once you were caught snooping, the same black-red mist formed make-shift handcuffs that bound your wrists. You groaned, dwelling on your loss.
The second time he caught you was when he was dusting his shelves, his back toward you. He was no longer in his robe, having changed into a black dress shirt and matching slacks. Without sparing you a glance, one word left his lips.
“Leave.”
The black-red tendrils were back around your wrists and you whined. “Ugh… I was caught again…”
Third time’s the charm, right? You had your gun loaded and after cocking it, you said to yourself, “This time for sure, I’ll…”
A pair of black slippers showed up in your peripheral and you slowly looked up to see the same, steeled expression in those crimson eyes and that cursed red robe again. It was like a second skin on him at this point. He let out a weighted sigh, which diminished your confidence.
“... I know. I’ll go now,” you said, defeated. He didn’t use his Evol this time, and you’re at war with yourself as to why you even noticed. Or why it mattered so much.
The last time Sylus caught you was the worst. He was in the shower, so you seized the chance to search his bedroom. Desperate, you even sunk to the low level of animal abuse when you shook Mephisto, his crow with mechanical wings, like a piggy bank for answers.
That’s when Sylus turned off the water and panic struck you, so you hid. There was a small window of opportunity to escape, but a phone call came in, deterring your plans. He answered, you eavesdropped, and when things were getting juicy, he noticed your presence and chuckled.
“Mr. Sylus?” the man on the call said.
“It’s nothing. Just a stray cat who happened to barge in.”
This time Sylus not only apprehended you by the wrists, he lifted you in the air as black-red mist swirled around his left hand. The call ends as he sets you down on the bed, and you wish the floor would open up and swallow you whole. Not because you failed, but because you didn’t want to face the humiliation of how his Evol brought back a certain spark you thought fizzled out.
Sylus’ back was turned, selecting a record before placing it on his record player.
“Have I underestimated your determination or overestimated your intellect?” he asked. You stared at your bound wrists, trying to ignore the shiver that ran down your spine.
“You’re the one who suggested a deal. But here you are making things difficult—” you said, fiddling with your thumbs. He approached you, a stern look flashing across his sharp features.
“You’ll have to work harder.”
He grabbed one of your wrists, and red sirens went off in your head. Your mind raced a mile a minute, wondering what his intentions were as he dragged you off the bed. You commanded him to let go, and he obliged, but only after he shoved you out of his room.
“Leave,” he said, his head gesturing to your right, “I’m going to bed.”
At least he kicked Mephisto out too, so you didn’t have to face the loss alone.
Which brings you to the present. You’re scribbling doodles of the bastard as an outlet for your anger, making the stylish choice of adding devil horns on top of his head.
It’s bad enough you’ve been trapped in Onychinus’s base for who knows how long. The man who’s held you captive should be your worst enemy, yet every encounter ignites an inferno in the pit of your stomach. Try as you may, but the dark thoughts you shove in the back of your mind are bubbling to the surface. If anything could anchor you back to reality, it’d be this—remember the mission.
You were to get into the auction to find the Aether core, which you can’t do without his help. But you couldn’t find that stupid brooch, so you’re back to square one. You scrawl over the sketch of Sylus, the pressure harsh enough that the paper threatens to tear until only a tornado of black ink is left.
“You’re pulling your hair out over this, huh?” Kieran says, sitting atop a table with his back towards you. He looks over his shoulder, so his voice will reach better. “If you want to do something, maybe we can help you.”
“What do you mean?” you ask, casting the notebook aside.
“If you want to conquer our boss’s heart, you’ll have to use a different approach,” Luke says, leaning back in his chair.
“I’m not trying to conquer his heart. He’s trying to conquer mine if anything,” you retort, folding your arms across your chest as you stand. Luke pulls a book from underneath the table and slides it across in your direction. You walk over, pick it up, and drop it just as quickly like it was a ticking time bomb. “What the fuck?!”
“Strike when he’s off-guard!” the twins chorus with Kieran leaning forward as Luke makes claws with his hands.
“Yeah, I suppose anyone who receives a hentai novel would be caught off-guard! What’s wrong with you two?!” You have to tear yourself away from looking at the erotic cover, depicting an anime girl being fucked by black tentacles belonging to what seems to be a demonic being. He had it all: horns atop his head, ebony eyes, endless tendrils, and a smokin’ hot bod like Sy—wait. No. Don’t look at it anymore. Even sparing it another glance feels like corruption and sin.
Luke chuckles, taking the explicit material back and flipping it open to a specific page. “For some people, they get bored once they have everything. So only those who dare to challenge their authority can catch their interest,” he reads.
Kieran’s sharp memory allows him to quote the story without having it in his hands. "When you're dealing with such a person, you bow down and submit or take them out in one go."
“What are you on about?” you ask, exasperated they’re quoting the pornography like it’s a holy scripture. Luke shuts the book and slides it towards you again, but you grimace like it’ll taint your soul.
“If you don’t want to conquer his heart, perhaps it’d be smarter if you conquer his… desires.”
“If you bow down and submit, maybe our Boss will have a change of heart and help you get into the auction. I mean, no one’s ever offered him their body,” Kieran adds. Your hands fall to your side, balling into fists until your knuckles turn white.
“I’d rather take him out in one go,” you say through gritted teeth. It’s not like you haven’t tried. However, the crazy bastard used you to shoot himself in the chest and you haven’t been the same since. Man thinks he has regenerative healing properties and he’s all that. Pfft. “You two are insane if you think being promiscuous is the solution.”
“In the end, Boss wants to resonate with you. You don’t have to like him, but your body can. Think about it,” Kieran insists, tilting his chin down slightly. The mask he wore shields his face, but you can imagine the impish grin from his inflection. “There’s nothing more intimate than spending a night together.”
“Read the comic,” Luke says, and you can tell from his tone he’s smirking despite the matching mask on his face. “Maybe you’ll find it enjoyable.”
“N-No. This is insanity. You’re telling me your Boss wants to fuck someone with his Evol as… tentacles?”
“Now you see why no one’s ever offered their body,” Kieran says matter-of-factly.
“This is stupid,” you mutter, clasping a hand to your forehead. “I’d rather die than fuck Sylus.”
“She might die even if she does fuck Sylus.” Kieran’s quick to elbow his brother in the side, and your heart is lodged in your throat, beating so loudly like it’s about to burst. He’s right. You could. You’ve seen what his Evol could do to a person.
But you’ve also thought about what it could do for a person. For you.
“Just… think about it,” Kieran says, his voice gentle like he’s coaxing a kitten out of its hiding spot. “If you give our Boss his ultimate desire, I’m sure he’ll do the same for you. You’ve never once thought about him in such a way? You’re not a tad bit curious?”
Luke and Kieran were treading dangerous waters. These two instigators somehow burrowed into your subconscious, forcing you to come face-to-face with your depravity.
You roll your eyes to maintain aloofness, but the book ends up in your possession seconds later. “I’m taking this for research. You’re sure this belongs to him?”
“Absolutely!” they chorus and you’re not sure hearing double aids their credibility.
“Boss is least guarded when he’s sleeping,” Kieran informs. Aren’t we all?
“You only have one shot,” Luke says, emphasizing his point by sticking up his forefinger. “Don’t waste this chance. Just do it!” He gives you a supportive fist pump and you peer down at the lewd book cover again.
What choice did you have? The twins presented a rather salacious solution, but Sylus was your only means of getting into the auction. As Luke said, if you can’t conquer his heart, perhaps you can conquer his desires.
No matter how twisted.
Three hours later…
Time slips away from you as you’re engrossed in your “research.” Not only was it full of filth, but the plot (if you can even call it that), was eerily similar to your situation. The girl on the cover was a demon hunter who fucks a demon to get him to do what she needs. Every drawing is breathtaking, detailed, and graphic. The way his tentacles bent her body to his will, the various positions, how it slithered around her body—it awoke the same feelings you had the night you met Sylus.
The dialogue instilled shame, lust, and more than enough sexual tension to charge a lightning storm. You had to pause every few pages, fanning your face until your cheeks cooled enough to continue. An earthquake couldn’t pry this masterpiece from your grasp and you were determined to finish it.
Once you’re done, you slam the book shut. You take a deep breath, regaining a sense of clarity when a realization dawns on you.
This was why Sylus’s Evol fascinated you. How every time he manipulated your body, a surge of adrenaline coursed through your body until your heart nearly gave out. You indeed feared him; everyone did. But fear was a mask you’ve clung onto so desperately to disguise the dark truth.
Sylus could’ve killed you at any time, but he chose not to. Sure, he has ulterior motives, but the control he has over his power is undeniably sexy, and knowing he can’t kill you meant you had control over him too.
You’ve hidden your desires under revulsion and endless banter when maybe he was right. You’re two kindred spirits, who are more alike than you want to admit. Someone created this book to satisfy the same urges you’ve been depriving yourself of and if Sylus indulged in these fantasies, then you’re not insane for wanting the same thing.
You’ve made up your mind.
If you offer your body to Sylus, it’s a win-win. You’ll get into the auction and you no longer have to feel ashamed about wanting him.
For the mission of course.
You head to Sylus’s bedroom, standing outside the wooden double doors. A pair of Evol-sealing handcuffs are in your possession, courtesy of the twins. You place them in your back pocket and rest your hands on the gold handles, giving yourself a mental pep-talk.
All or nothing!
You turn the handles and march in, seeing Sylus sleeping in his canopy bed with his back against the plush headboard instead of the mattress.
Is he a vampire? Eh. Red eyes, white hair, gorgeous—might as well be.
Climbing onto the bed gently, you watch his chest heave, his breathing evident but it’s so light that you’re tempted to press your ear against his chest to ensure he’s alive.
“Sylus… Sylus?” you say, confirming his dormant status. A soft chuckle escapes you as you whip out the handcuffs, lifting his wrist and attaching it to the golden vintage bed frame. “This is what you get.”
Now that he’s immobile, you can’t help your feasting eyes from ogling his exposed skin. That red robe was both a curse and a blessing, a warning of caution, yet you choose to ignore it. You hover your finger above his abdomen, contemplating whether to make contact when a hand snatches your wrist, lifting it to eye level.
“Showing up uninvited at this hour… Want me to tell you a bedtime story?” he says before tossing your wrist aside. You place both hands on either side of his head and his eyes slightly widen, but he remains composed. This would be a lot easier if you straddled him, but patience was a virtue.
“These handcuffs nullify a person’s Evol for an hour,” you declare. He stares at the restraints, his face devoid of emotion before settling his attention back on you. “No matter how powerful you are, you’re helpless as of now.”
“Really?” he asks, the corner of his lips hinting at a small smile. It’s subtle and leaves as soon as it comes. “What do you plan to do then since I’ve become your prey?”
You remove your hands and lean back to sit on your knees. “You’re going to listen to my counteroffer.”
To your surprise, he nods like he has nothing better to do. Maybe the cuffs weren’t necessary. “I’m intrigued. Continue.”
Clasping your hands together, you clear your throat like you had prepared a speech when in reality, your brain is scrambled. What are you supposed to say?
Hey Sylus, do you want to fuck and use your Evol on me like tentacles? It’ll help us resonate!
You might as well put a big fat sticker on your head that says “FREE $.99! FUCK NOW!” and get it over with.
“I’m getting bored,” he states, stirring you from disorganized thoughts. You press your lips into a thin line, mustering whatever courage you have left.
“Look… from the beginning, you trapped me here, forced me to resonate with you, and even said ‘we’re the same’...” You wet your lips out of habit to calm your nerves, and he doesn’t miss it. “I couldn’t find the brooch in time and need your help to get into the auction. And you want to be able to resonate with me. So…”
“Get to the point.”
“I’m offering you my body for the night,” you blurt out. He raises an eyebrow and his usually calm demeanor breaks for the first time as a flicker of confusion dances across his face. You would take pride in that, but his face quickly morphs, so you jump out of bed with your hands up, worried he’d deny you. “Hold on. Let me explain.”
Not like he had a choice. The fact he was handcuffed eludes you for a moment, but once you remember, it eases the tension in your shoulders. He waits for you to continue, the smug look on his face not helping to ease your nerves.
“I don’t like you and you don’t like me. But you want to resonate with me, so if we sleep together, maybe… I’ll hate you less. Besides, we have similar desires. I’ve seen the way you look at me.”
His eyes glint a haunting crimson from the golden glow of his night lamp. “Do tell. How do I look at you?”
Your knees almost buckle from his deep, smooth voice. “Like… Like… you hate me.”
“Astonishing misunderstanding. Yet somehow you’ve concluded this means we should sleep together?”
You might as well die of embarrassment. “If it’s for the mission, I can detach my personal feelings. We do this and there’s a chance I’ll be able to resonate with you better. After all, what’s more intimate than spending the night together? It’ll work unless… you’re inadequate in bed.”
It’s brief, but you’re sure Sylus clenches his jaw as his lips press into a slight frown, his eyes narrowed on you with laser-like focus. You turn away from him, smacking your cheek like a spanking for being stupid enough to question Onychinus’ leader’s skills in bed.
“Are you done?”
You whip your head around. “Um… yes.”
An exasperated sigh escapes him. “You say you failed to locate the brooch, but your twenty-four hours aren’t up yet. There’s still time.”
You place one hand on your hip while the other waves him off, dismissing his words. “I’ve searched everywhere already!”
“Everywhere. But not everyone.”
The light bulb in your head goes off and you’re back by Sylus’ side on the bed, holding your palm out like an entitled brat.
“Where’s the brooch?”
His smile reaches his eyes and he gestures his free hand across the expanse of his body top to bottom. “Help yourself.”
“Don’t mind if I do.”
You run your fingers along the black lapels on his robe, checking the inside layer first. The fabric is silky smooth to the touch, but you’re distracted by how hot his skin is on the back of your fingers. No brooch though.
Next, you check the outside of the lapels and sure enough, you feel a hard, circular object. Pulling it out, you see the crow brooch with a lustrous ruby in the center. You giggle with glee.
“Do you really think I hate you?” he questions.
“Now it doesn’t matter at all. I won!”
“Deals have conditions and my condition wasn’t met. The offer has expired already.”
“But you said…”
Shit. The handcuffs on Sylus start to glow red, similar to how blacksmiths heat materials in a furnace. The metal soon melts, allowing your once prey to become the predator.
Your attempts to escape are futile, given Sylus’ quick speed, and you’re thrown onto the bed. He hovers over you and your fight-or-flight instincts kick in as you throw a punch, but he catches your wrist and pins it down without batting an eye.
“You’re pretty good at running away.”
“Let me go. I already have the brooch.” He pins your other hand down, enveloping his large hand over your clenched fist.
“I told you. My offer has expired already, so the real question is… when does yours?”
Sylus is staring down at you with crazed, crimson eyes as the sound of your heartbeat rings in your ears. His hands are warm, too warm. Like they’ll burn you alive or maybe that’s your body heat rising exponentially from how close he was. His scent wafts over you, filling your nose with pleasant notes of cardamom and something herbal, which soothes your nerves and helps you rediscover your voice.
“I… I…”
“Use your words.”
“I only made you that counteroffer because I thought I failed. The brooch has been found. Who cares about the rules? You’re the leader of the N109 Zone. You break them all the time.”
“Careful, sweetheart. My patience is running thin. I’m only keeping you around because you’re still useful. And…” He squeezes your fist like he wants to pry it open. A warning. “I truly enjoy seeing my little prey struggle.” He brings your enclosed fist in front of his chest. “Especially when it thinks it can get away from me. Now tell me… what similar desires do we share?”
Okay. Maybe if you scream loud enough, Mephisto will fly in and—
“Answer me.”
Who were you kidding, Mephisto would sell you out in a heartbeat. That damn crow better not have seen you reading pornography. And those twins… they better start counting their days.
You pull your lower lip under your front teeth, hoping to seal your answer shut for good. But Sylus’ right eye glows red, and you writhe underneath him, turning your head to the side. His Aether Core will reveal your deepest desires if you make eye contact.
Sylus grabs your chin and forces you to look at him, probing into your subconscious and witnessing all your shameful thoughts. Eerie voices fill your mind, their murmurs are difficult to understand, but the pain they bring is borderline unbearable—an unfortunate side effect of Sylus’ intrusion. Once the glow in his eye fades, you feel like yourself again. But the twisted smile on his face let you know things were far from over.
“So that’s what you mean by shared desires… You want me to use my Evol on you. No… you want me to fuck you with it.”
“That’s not true! Luke and Kieran—”
He runs his thumb across your lips, an effective solution for your yapping mouth. “Such improper use of an Evol could have devastating consequences. You are too gullible, kitten.”
Damn it. Those two…!
“Don’t call me that,” you bite back.
“Oh? You have quite the mouth on you today. First, you make a big show of offering your body to me and now you don’t have the guts to tell me exactly how you want me to take you?” He leans closer, his lips ghosting above your own with the slightest touch. “Confess your true desires, [Y/N].”
“N-No. The twins set me up.”
“That book may not belong to me, but I assure you… my desires are all my own. And they align with yours. All you have to do is confess.”
He doesn’t move and prolongs eye contact to where you feel stifled, trapped, and heated in places you shouldn’t. The leader of the N109 Zone doesn’t play around and knows what he wants and the means to get it. But you like challenging him. You like being challenged by him too.
You stay quiet because giving in too easily is what he wants.
“That look in your eyes… Are you trying to seduce me?” You form what you believe is a scowl, but it results in another teasing smirk. “As long as you have desires, there will always be deals to make. So what will it be?”
“I want to get into the auction,” you say, uttering the same script to maintain a semblance of professionalism. “That’s all.”
He sees the brooch jutting out from the space between your forefinger and thumb, easily able to lift it from you. “Don’t move.”
To your surprise, he pins it on your shirt and sits on the edge of the bed. You sit up and lean on your elbows, tilting your head at his sudden behavior change.
“Technically, you did find the brooch. I won’t go back on what I promised you.”
“Wait, that’s it?”
“You sound rather disappointed.” He gets up, and you follow suit off the bed like a lost kitten. “If getting into the auction is all you desire, consider it done. You can leave now.”
His back is facing you, and you can’t help but wonder if he’s disappointed too. You fidget with the brooch, running your thumb across the smooth jewel. Without thinking, your hand latches onto his like a magnetic force. Sylus spins around, glowering as you intertwine your fingers through his.
“Let me resonate with you.”
“So brash… you’re getting more and more interesting.”
He entertains you and utilizes his Evol, the black-red mist wrapping around his forearm like sprouting vines as he brings your entwined hands up to eye level. He closes his eyes as more mist envelops where you two are connected, and you watch with bated breath as scarlet specks float inward.
Devour him… he’s yours. He’s right there before your very eyes.
Those eerie voices are back, and you’re strangely compelled to heed their words. An ivory glow shines where your palms meet before an explosive burst of energy emerges, a spiral of lethal scarlet and radiant white from your combined powers. Sylus opens his eyes and lets go of your hand, allowing ivory flakes to cascade down like confetti.
“It’s a shame. But not a surprise.”
“We can try again. Let’s—”
“I admire your tenacity, kitten. But I think we’ve had enough excitement for one night.”
Your insides feel like an unattended kettle, whistling from immense frustration and on the verge of exploding. You can’t leave now. Not after he gave you what you wanted. There is a thing called give-and-take, and you’re not one to only take. The guilt would eat you alive.
“I don’t want to owe you. Here,” you grab both his hands, “one more time.”
Sylus lifts his arms and pins you against the nearest wall with hands above your head. Your breath is knocked out of you when your back collides with it, the impact causing the lamp to nearly topple over. His glare is murderous and your sick mind dared to find it incredibly attractive.
“Your stubbornness is what’s going to get you killed someday,” he warns. You see him lean back and remove his hold over you, but when you try to move, you feel restrained. His powers; they’re bounding you. “Is this what you want? For me to use my Evol on you?”
“Isn’t that what you want? I don’t want to owe you,” you repeat. “So I’m ready for whatever’s going on here. You can… use me for the night.” The last part was barely above a whisper, but Sylus’ hum as he folds his arms across his chest lets you know he heard you.
“Do you know what you’re requesting, little one? My Evol is dangerous,” You feel the restraints tighten and they only stop when you yelp in pain. “Yet it’s almost like you welcome it. Even if it hurts. Do you like it when it hurts?”
The tension is thick enough to cut with a knife, so you kick in his direction with all your might. Hunter instincts, if you will. But the black-red tendrils around your ankle make you sweat as he lowers your leg without breaking eye contact, pinning both ankles to the wall.
“Feisty kitten thinks she’s a tiger now, huh?”
“Why don’t you get on with it already?” you snap, impatient. Sylus grabs your face, squeezing your cheeks until your lips pucker like a fish.
“What makes you think I won’t kill you?” Like his razor-sharp words, you feel something akin to a collar around your neck. It prickles your skin while restricting the flow of oxygen to your lungs and you gasp like you’re trying desperately not to drown. You feel light-headed, but his Evol takes mercy on you and grants you enough air to breathe, though you know it comes with the price of answering his question.
“Because you would’ve done so already,” you answer, though your voice is shaky. Sylus nods, as if satisfied with your reply.
“Do you trust me?”
“No.”
“Clever girl.” The praise sounds delicious rolling off his tongue. “One final question.” He releases your face and bends down to meet your eye level. “Do you desire me?”
Having been inside your head, the answer was obvious. He’s looking for confirmation, a verbal confession to make whatever feelings you have for him tangible. The man is a walking red flag, and you’re about to wave a white one in surrender.
“If I don’t?” you question, challenging his authority one last time.
“Then I’ll release you.”
“And if I do?”
“Then… I hope you’ll allow me to have you. All of you. Deal?”
A beat passes and you gulp, your head saying no, but your body and heart screaming, “Yes.”
His hand comes up to caress your face, almost lovingly. “Yes, what?”
“I desire you.”
Sylus gives you a full smile, the corners of his eyes creasing. “You’re aware of the risks, right? With the snap of my fingers, I can tear things to shreds,” He carries out the action and as promised, his robe is shredded to bits of black and red confetti. Your eyes trail down his well-developed abdominal muscles and pronounced V-line until they settle on… “Enjoying the view?”
His teasing lilt reminds you to close your gaping jaw. Hell yeah, you’re enjoying the view. Not only was this man well over six feet, his body rivaled that of a Greek God, and he was blessed with a massive cock too? Of course. Things had to be proportionate.
“I… you… that robe was expensive, wasn’t it?” That was quite possibly the lamest response you could’ve come up with.
“It seems like the little kitten is distracted. Probably needs a toy to keep her occupied.” Sylus flicks his fingers, commanding the whirl of black-red mist to rip your clothes and you shriek in surprise. The brooch falls to the floor with a soft clink, and he picks it up, gently putting it on his nightstand. His attention returns to you and your exposed body, and you take pride in how his cock throbs at the sight. “So she likes lace. Pretty.”
You bite back a scream when a black tendril with cracks of glowing red light slithers up your body in between the valley of your breasts, tearing your bra right off. Another one coils around your thigh before it rips your panties off too. The appendages seem to multiply, wrapping your body in an intricate pattern similar to shibari. There’s no pain and they feel smooth, cooling your heated skin.
“I can manipulate things at will with the flick of a wrist. My powers are pure energy meant for destruction, and you’re here wanting to use them for pleasure.”
He leans close to your ear and nibbles the shell of it. The sensation tickles, but you’re too tense to move a muscle. His voice is husky as he whispers, “I could kill you right now. It’d be so easy…”
You hold your breath when he leans back enough to scan your face, relishing the turmoil in your eyes. “I-I trust that you won’t.”
“You know…” His index finger travels alongside your neck, then to your breast, tracing your areola in circular motions. “As soon as my Evol makes contact with anyone, people would die almost instantly and experience the most excruciating pain.”
He’s now rolling your nipple in between his forefinger and thumb, pinching it enough to hurt and elicit a whine from you. “S-Sylus…”
“But that’s not the case with you. Do you know the violence it took to become this gentle?”
You don’t know why your heart swells, but his words were sweeter than any confession. “Thank you…”
His eyes widen slightly and he stops his actions, tilting your chin up instead. “Say that again.”
“Th-Thank you… for being gentle with me.”
He closes his eyes and shudders like your gracious manners sent waves of pleasure throughout his body. A sharp inhale comes, and then he’s staring deep into your eyes like he could see your soul.
“What a good girl you are thanking me… but I must warn you. I meant what I said about having all of you. You’re not the only one with fantasies, [Y/N]. And mine are anything but gentle.”
“I can take it.”
He gives you a half-smile. “Is that so?”
“You doubt me?”
“No. But I think you might underestimate me. After all… I’m possibly ‘inadequate’ in bed.”
Shit. Maybe you shouldn’t have challenged him. But your bratty nature couldn’t leave you well enough alone. “Prove me wrong.”
Sylus’ resolve crumbles and he holds the side of your face as his lips meet yours for the first time. His pressure is gentle like he doesn’t want to scare you off, and once you two find rhythm, he deepens the kiss and you moan as the taste of cinnamon overcomes you. Spicy, very much like him.
His tongue prods its way through once your body relaxes, sliding across your own, the action far more lewd than romantic. He groans and carefully takes your bottom lip in between his teeth, pulling back in the most sexy manner. You moan and he swallows it, kissing you again with more fervor as his hands explore your body.
First, he traces your curves and trails down until his hands cup your ass, squeezing the soft flesh. Then he brings them back up, kneading your breasts and you mewl at how rough he handled them. Eventually, the kiss breaks, leaving a thin trail of saliva that connects your lips until it eventually severs.
“Beautiful…”
One word and you’re all heart-eyes for the man as heat rushes to your cheeks. If he wanted to tease you for it, he restrains himself and takes a nipple into his mouth, sucking harshly before releasing it with an audible pop. His tongue pokes out, swirling around the bud while his hand tends to the other. Your back arches involuntarily, but you’re quickly reminded of your immobility, which causes more arousal to drip down your thighs.
Sylus stops messing with your pert nipples to suck harshly between the valley of your breasts, inevitably leaving a nasty hickey. He pushes them together and then lets go, loving how they jiggle.
“I wonder…” he muses, taking two fingers to tease your folds. “Oh… you’re so wet and I haven’t even put them in yet.”
You squeeze your eyes when he inserts them in slowly, your slick making the transition smooth as he stretches you out. “Fuck… Sylus, please.”
“What? Are my fingers not enough?” He stills and the lack of movement frustrates you to no end. You want to thrash around, but you’re still glued to the wall.
“N-No. Please… please move them.”
“You beg so prettily,” He pulls them out and begins fingering you at a snail’s pace. “But it’s not enough. You can do better.”
“Please!” you exclaim. “I need more…”
“God, you’re dripping on my hand and I haven’t done much.” He moves faster, his fingers knuckle deep and curling in spots that have you clenching hard. It’s like he’s coaxing out more of your essence with each stroke and then challenges you with a third finger. “Does it feel good?”
You can hardly respond with how stuffed you feel, your lust insatiable as he speeds up.
“Yes? No? Maybe so?” he asks, amused by your struggle.
“Y-Yes… good… so good…”
Your pussy is making obscene noises and you’re feeling a warmth building in your abdomen, especially when Sylus kisses your neck. His lips are scorching hot, almost searing as if you were being branded. You submit and let him mark you, focusing on the pressure within as your high is approaching. He uses his free hand to hold yours, interlocking your fingers together.
“Fuck!” you shout, feeling like you couldn’t breathe fast enough to keep up with his bruising pace. “I’m going to come, I—”
He seals your words with another kiss, and your scream is muffled when your orgasm hits you like a gunshot. It’s brutal and intense, causing you to see stars for what feels like the longest minute of your life.
At the same time, your interlocked palms glow bright red and ivory. Unlike before, this explosion caused a surge of power to pass through his bedroom like shockwaves, destroying most things that came into contact. The roar is deafening, but all you can focus on is Sylus and how good he made you feel.
“Come back to me.”
You don’t realize when he stopped kissing you. Or when he removed his fingers. Or when you stopped being pinned to the wall. Sylus is holding you up and when you see how his eyes softened for the concern for your well-being, you’re smitten.
“I’m okay…”
His demeanor shifts, the change so sudden that it is like a phone going from light mode to dark mode. The man manipulates your body with his Evol and throws you onto the bed without a second thought. Black-red mist envelops your body again, this time cuffing your wrists in front. Tendrils wrap around each breast, your torso, and your neck, constricting tightly until you resemble a beautifully decorated present.
Sylus joins you on the bed, settling in between your thighs as he lies on his stomach as if he were a sniper. He has his Evol pry them wider, so your pussy is exposed for his feasting eyes. His arms are secured under your thighs, an extra precaution to hold you in place.
That’s when an untimely knock comes.
“Boss? Is everything alright?”
“We heard a loud crash!”
Damn it. Luke and Kieran have impeccable timing. And the way the corners of Sylus’ lips tug into a smirk instills panic in you.
“Answer them. Make it convincing,” Sylus whispers. You watch as he dips down until his white hair is all you can see. His lips latch onto your lower ones and you’re choked up, trying not to moan too loudly as he tastes you.
“We’re… We’re fine!” you exclaim, though your breathy tone is far from convincing. Sylus grunts in disapproval at your poor performance, and the vibrations are a suitable punishment. “Sylus and I have are having a disagree—ah!—ment.”
Fuck, why does he have to lick your clit right at that moment?!
“Oh no, you two are fighting?” Kieran asks, his voice cracking slightly from his concern.
“Give up, [Y/N]! Our boss is relentless!” Luke adds with a faint snicker. Tell me about it.
Sylus continues to give you kitten licks before licking a long stripe across your labia folds. You’re bucking your hips because you want more, but you’re also trying to close your thighs to escape the pleasure. It’s no use when you’re restrained and have no choice but to let him eat you out to his heart’s content. It’s when he inserts a finger to join in his salacious tongue that your eyes are rolling to the back of your head.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you breathe. “Sylus, if you keep going… they’ll hear me.”
“Then I suggest you stay quiet. What would your colleagues say if they knew the best hunter in Linkon is lusting over the leader of Onychinus?”
“I’m-I’m not!”
“Keep telling yourself that, sweetie,” He gives you a short break to clean your juices off his fingers, sucking them like they were a popsicle. “And oh how sweet you are, indeed.”
“Don’t kill each other!” the twins chorus. Sylus chuckles and shakes his head, pinching the bridge of his nose with his forefinger and thumb.
“Leave us,” he demands. “We have ways of… negotiating. Even if it takes all night…”
There’s some shuffling before you hear their footsteps recede down the hallway until silence remains.
“That was mean,” you whine. He tilts his head, swiping his upper lip with his tongue ever so slowly.
“You think that was mean? Oh… you underestimate me.”
He rises from your thighs and kneels on the bed, but his large frame still towers over you. “Wait, I—”
A snap of his fingers seals your mouth shut. You see the crimson specks floating around your mouth and protest, but they’re reduced to muffled squeals.
“Like I said before… you have quite the mouth on you today.”
Your eyes enlarge when you see a black-red tentacle rise from between your thighs. It sparks at the tip, which transforms into a cock-head to simulate a human penis. It’s not too thick, but it still makes your heart beat erratically.
Sylus takes both your hands and squeezes the right one first. “If you want me to keep going, squeeze your right hand,” He squeezes the left one next. “If it’s too much and you want me to stop, squeeze your left.”
His thoughtfulness brings those butterflies back. You squeeze your right hand and he nods, commanding the tentacle to run its tip up and down your folds. It brushes your clit every so often, which makes you sigh in pleasure. Then it enters you slowly, your arousal making things run smoothly.
It penetrates you about six inches deep before pulling out halfway, only to slam back into you with greater force. Your cries are muffled, but Sylus can tell you’re enjoying yourself by how your eyes roll back. The appendage thrusts into you at a maddening pace, your body rocking back and forth from the notion, and Sylus enjoys seeing the erotic sight of your tits bouncing. The tendrils around your breasts constrict while smaller ones branch off, wrapping around your nipples and teasing them too.
The make-shift gag around your mouth converts into another cock-head tentacle, forcing its way in so you’re sucking it off. Sylus groans at the beautiful sight of you submitting to it so willingly.
“You’re so pretty when you submit… I can’t imagine how sexy you’ll look when I take you,” he praises.
So many parts of you are being stimulated and you’re sure you’ll come again soon with how each thrust, both in your pussy and mouth, speeds up. It’s almost like they were losing control, taking you with them. It’s not until you feel a small spark from below that you yelp.
The sensation was like static electricity that you get if you rub your feet on a carpet. Not life-threatening, but a nuisance that stings for a brief second.
“My Evol is energy manipulation… that energy is hard to control sometimes…” Sylus says in a low voice. “It might even shock you.”
You can’t hear much over the squelching noises from your pussy and mouth as the tentacles work into you, hungrily, greedily, until the build-up from below is enough to cause your whole body to shake involuntarily. Your orgasm approaches and then is heightened when a small jolt of electricity shocks your clit.
The tentacle in your mouth removes itself, so you can scream until your voice gives out. The other one leaves your pussy once you stop shaking, and you are still on the bed, catching your breath. However, you feel something warm and wet on your stomach, so you lift your head enough to see spurts of cum leaking from Sylus’ cock.
His hands are still holding your own. Did he come from simply watching you?
“I’m not going to apologize,” he says without a hint of remorse. “You excite me.”
You’re flattered, truly. Especially when his cock is still erect, almost angry with need by how much it throbs. You wonder if it’s painful.
The mist around your wrists vanishes, but your body is dragged off the bed to the opposite side of the room, where Sylus’ grand wall mirror reaches the ceiling. You’re suspended in front of it and he wraps his arm around your waist from behind, twirling your hair with his other hand.
“Do you know how irresistible you are? Such temptation… that’s why I’m taking my time,” He takes his finger, swipes across your stomach, and gathers enough cum to coat his digit before lifting it to your mouth. “Open.”
You obey and he lets you taste himself, the action so wicked. So dominating. So sexy. His cum is salty and slightly bitter, but addictive.
“Good girl. Are you ready for what’s next?”
“Yes.”
His Evol controls your limbs and suddenly, you’re flipped upside-down with Sylus’ cock in front of your lips while your pussy is facing his. Your legs are wrapped around his neck and you’re taken aback at the extreme position.
“I’ve always thought Standing 69’s would be… enthralling. Always wanted to try it.”
The blood rushing to your head blurs your focus and your adrenaline spikes at the thought of possibly falling. But Sylus’ powers are strong and you’ve yet to see them falter. As if he can read your thoughts, he says, “Don’t worry, kitten. Rest assured I won’t drop you on your pretty little head.”
“It’s still scary…”
“I know. But isn’t that what makes it thrilling?” He pulls you closer by placing his hands on your ass, placing a chaste kiss on your cunt. “The sooner you finish, the sooner I’ll have you right-side up.”
Another challenge you can’t back down from. You take Sylus’ cock in your mouth and it reaches the back of your throat quickly from its impressive length. It’s also thicker in girth than the tentacle you sucked off earlier, which makes you gag.
Sylus throws his head back, panting from how soft and warm your mouth feels. He snaps his fingers to release your wrists, allowing your hands to find purchase on the back of his thighs.
“If it becomes too much, squeeze twice.”
You respond by bobbing your head up and down, which earns a sharp inhale from him. He isn’t one to fall behind, so he indulges in your sopping cunt like a glutton, moaning and grunting into it like an animal. Meanwhile, you relax your jaw so it becomes easier to adjust to his size, swirling your tongue as you maneuver up and down.
Your eyes shift to the mirror, seeing your compromised position and lewd actions. You barely recognize yourself or Sylus for that matter. He’s so engrossed in eating you out that his eyes are closed like he’s enjoying heaven on Earth. It pushes you to work harder, keeping up with his pace.
Right before Sylus is about to reach his peak, you hear another snap. He stops eating you out and you feel something bumpy rub itself against your pussy. Then Sylus’ fingers spread your ass cheeks and you feel it probing around your other hole.
Your mouth stills and your eyes widen at the sight of a black-red tendril that’s now ribbed at the tip. It slowly enters, stretching you to take each ribbed section, simulating the action of being fucked repeatedly. Sylus is back at work, inserting his tongue into your vagina in hopes it’ll distract you from the burn, but it only makes you clench harder.
“Relax…” he reminds you before diving back in again. He’s bucking his hips to remind you to continue, and you do your best as saliva pools so much that it drips down near your eyes. Everything feels too much, too tight, especially when the tentacle starts fucking your asshole. The ribbed texture only adds to the intensity and hits spots that border pain and pleasure.
Sylus’ hips begin to stutter and you’re seconds away from passing out from the light-headedness. Fortunately, he finishes in your mouth, the thick viscosity of his cum coating your throat while you orgasm for the third time tonight.
The noises he lets out are feral and if you had the chance, you’d record them so you could get off to them another night. You feel the pressure in your ass disappear and as promised, you’re right-side up again, but your limbs feel like jelly. Sylus wraps his arm around your waist, his hold secure as he flashes you a satisfied grin.
“Open.” You’re still in a daze, but the command gets through to you and you show him your mouth. When he sees you have swallowed, he hums in approval. “You really do hold up your end of the bargain. I suppose I’ll finally give you what you want.”
He grabs your hand and places it on his dick, which is slippery from your saliva. He’s still semi-erect but a few strokes is all it takes to get him up and running again. The man’s a beast and refuses to be in a cage.
Guiding you to the bed, he lays down first on the mattress, his hands clasped behind his head as he rests on a pillow. In the blink of an eye, you’re suspended over him, the black-red mist parting your thighs and slowly lowering you until your pussy barely grazes his tip. Your wrists are bound behind your back now and you’re like a puppet, bent to his will.
“What do you desire, Kitten?”
“You,” you beg. “Please.”
“You wish for me to take you raw?”
You’re nodding like your life depended on it. “Yes.”
“You wish for me to use you?”
“To your heart’s content.”
He says nothing else and sinks you onto his fat cock, and despite the many sessions he’s used to prep you, there’s still a slight burn from how much he stretches you. It feels incredible as he bottoms out, knocking the breath out of both of you.
“Oh god…” you say, trembling from how full you feel. “You’re so big…”
“And you’re so tight. It’s like your pussy doesn’t want to let go of me. So greedy.”
The mist controls your pliant body, helping you bounce up and down without pausing for a break. Sylus does a jazz hands motion with the widest grin on his face.
“Look, kitten. No hands.”
You almost growl at his cheap jokes, but his throbbing cock deters you from your thoughts, almost impaling you from its brute force. Sylus reaches out and pulls you so your chest meets his, his arm hooked around your back to hold you in place, giving you a short moment of reprieve.
“Raise your head,” he commands. You feel so drained, but you force yourself to do it and he gives you a quick smooch. “I need you to relax.”
The ribbed tentacle is back and you feel it gliding in between your ass cheeks, prodding your rim every so often like it’s mischievous.
“S-Sylus, it’ll be too much,” you say.
“You can handle it. But let me know now if you want to stop.”
You bite your lower lip, considering his words. “No. Don’t stop.”
“That’s my girl…” The tendril pushes into your asshole, taking its time as each ribbed section feels like a repeated attack, pushing the limits of your body. You’re utterly stuffed once it’s in as far as Sylus allows and you feel his cock throb in your sore pussy.
Sylus jerks his hips first and then the tentacle joins as they pump in and out of you, alternating and becoming more violent. You’re biting down in the juncture between his neck and shoulder to steady yourself, and he lets out a strained fuck, yes, thrusting up into you so hard that you sob, tears pricking your eye.
Just when you think there aren’t any surprises left, a second tentacle sneaks around to your lips, seizing its opportunity to enter when you gasp. It gags you and now all three of your holes are being used and abused, bringing you closer and closer to the edge. The stimulation is overwhelming, the pressure bottling, your pussy squeezing Sylus’ like a vice—you’re both not going to last much longer.
“That’s it, that’s it—fuck, I adore you,” he pants, closing his eyes and focusing his energy to give you his all. The tendril occupying your mouth releases you, allowing the mantra of Sylus’ name to fall from your lips as euphoria greets you.
You’ve come many times tonight, but this one saturates you in overwhelming pain and pleasure. Everything is sore and you can’t stop seeing four of everything until Sylus lifts you by the hips, coming on his stomach and not inside you. You collapse onto his chest when the mist dissipates, the two of you catching your breath.
There isn’t enough money in the world to convince you to move, not after what you’ve experienced. Yet something lifts you off Sylus and you’re about to cry again.
“No, no more…”
“Hush now,” The mist positions you in Sylus’ arms bridal-styled as he gets off the bed, his strong arms securing you. “We’re going to the bathroom to clean ourselves up. You’re staying with me for the night.”
You nuzzle into his embrace like a kitten, and a fond smile rests on his face.
“Okay.”
A/N: You made it to the end! Yipee! Thank you for giving my writing a chance. PLEASE let me know if you enjoyed. 🌹
#sylus smut#sylus#love and deepspace sylus#sylus x reader#lads sylus#sylus x you#sylus qin#my writing#lads smut#lnds sylus
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Animagus reader and Sirius playing in their animal forms and Sirius accidentally being a little too rough since his form is obviously a lot bigger? He’s super apologetic and while the damage isn’t a big deal at all, reader is like “… I guess this means you owe me a lot of sweater cuddles and to carry me in your bag..” to milk it LOL
part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6 / part 7 / part 8
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Sirius curses the fact that he'd chosen to bound over the grounds with you instead of staying hidden in the shadows of the forest. It means that when his massive form crashes down on top of you after you nip at his front paw, that neither of you can immediately transform to assess the damage. You're in full view of the castle and the accompanying grounds, and he has to fight every urge in his body not to give himself away and shift back at your pained yelp.
He panics, cycles through fight and flight and decides neither will do, then ever-so-gently takes the scruff of your neck between his teeth. He's painstakingly careful, whining apologetically in his throat as he secures you in his maw and bolts for the forest. You haven't made any further outcries, not even when his grip on you had shifted your position, and Sirius takes it to mean that he hasn't maimed you too badly. He still doesn't feel good about it, though, and his paws beat roughly over the earthen forest as he searches for a place to hide.
When he's carried you well within the sprawling confines of the forest he lowers his head to the ground, setting you gently on the mossy dirt.
When you don't immediately transform back, your eyes scanning the trees for potential onlookers, he nudges you with his wet snout, snuffling softly against your fur. It's safe.
You let your transformation seize you, limbs cracking though there's no accompanying pain, and fur retracting and morphing into soft, smooth skin. You wind up splayed over the forest floor and quickly right yourself so that your back is against the tree, and Sirius completes his own transformation only seconds later.
His eyes are round and shining with worry, and you marvel at how he's able to pull such perfect puppy dog eyes even after shedding his canine form. He scans you for visible injuries, lips trembling slightly as he asks, "Darling, are you okay?"
"My wrist hurts," You observe, voice pinched in pain as you raise it. There's a slight ache there, nothing that a day of use won't shake away, but Sirius takes it between his fingers like it's shattered glass that he's afraid might cut him.
"I'm sorry!" He gushes, inspecting the skin there like it might just give up and split in two, "Darling, I'm sorry, I didn't- I didn't mean to hurt you. Are you- is it okay? Do we need to go to the hospital wing?"
You flex it in his grip, once, twice, and already the slight pain eases. You shake your head, but he perceives it as an answer for the wrong question, and his eyes light further with a flaming worry.
"No, I'm- it's okay, Sirius." You assure him, brows still furrowed together at the middle, "I don't need the hospital."
"Are you sure?" He verifies, a nervous glimmer still sullying his handsome features. You nod, twisting your wrist in his grip to take hold of one of his hands, squeezing it reassuringly.
"Yeah, I'm sure," You nod, shifting your legs to plant your heels against the ground, "Help me up?"
He scrambles to fulfil your request, hauling you to your feet and right into his arms. He holds you against his chest, touch excruciatingly gentle against your skin.
"You're sure you're okay?" He asks, and for a third time, you nod.
"Yes, Sirius," You laugh, planting your face into the seam of his button-up, "Yes, I'm okay. It only hurt for a second. I just twisted it or something. It's fine, I'm fine, we're fine."
"Okay." He smooths a hand up your back, nodding along to your repetitive reassurances, "Okay. I'm sorry."
"It's alright," You hum, wishing you were back in your feline form as you press your face into his chest. It's more soothing then, and you can hear the beat of his heart much clearer when you're a cat.
"You gotta make it up to me, though." You muse expectantly, and his arms stiffen around you, "Three whole days of carrying me in your bag without complaining."
"Three?" He asks incredulously, "One! Two, if you're lucky. Three is for hospital wing patients."
"Ah, my wrist," You feign injury, slumping against his chest as he fills the forest with the sound of his deep laughter, "Sirius, hospital wing, stat!"
#sirius black x reader#sirius black imagine#sirius black scenario#sirius black oneshot#sirius black one-shot#sirius black one shot#sirius black headcanon#sirius black headcanons#sirius black hc#sirius black hcs#sirius black fanfiction#sirius black fanfic#sirius black fic#sirius black blurb#sirius black drabble#sirius black dialogue#sirius black fluff#sirius black x reader fanfiction
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[don't] bite at the hand that feeds you
contents: geto suguru x fem!reader; cult leader!geto; reader's mother can't see curses but reader can; fingers in mouth action (not sexual though); manipulation, mentions of murder, very toxic dynamic, power dynamic, dark content
synopsis: you make what you think is an innocent request. suguru thinks otherwise.
wc: 3.1k
a/n: i wanted to experiment with my writing style a bit, so this is the result of that :') hope y'all enjoy it. comments and reblogs are very much appreciated! divider credits: @/strangergraphics
The jasmine tea that runs down your throat tastes sweeter than usual.
You always drink it with exactly two sugar cubes - Suguru knows it. Your mother used to make your tea this way and you have stuck to it, the drink having a soothing effect on you.
Suguru’s room is illuminated by candles that cast dancing shadows whenever one of you moves. They stand in the middle of the table in front of you, kind of like a home altar. Burned essence, smoke, steeped tea leaves and disinfectant spray tickle your nose. You exhale, slowly.
“Is the tea to your liking?” Suguru momentarily glances over his shoulder as he sorts some documents on his desk. He always asks you this question, and every time your answer is, ‘Yes, thank you’. But not today.
“It’s pretty sweet.”
A muttered “Is it?” as he puts away one last file.
“Yeah.” Quickly followed by, “It’s still delicious.” And after two seconds, “Thank you.”
The twins - your little lambs - once told you at breakfast that Suguru had never had bought jasmine tea before, only black or green tea. It appeared in their cupboard half a year ago, the packet only emptying when you came over. You never told him that you favoured jasmine tea out of all the flavours. But a beholden mouth is supposed to remain closed, opening only for expressions of gratitude.
Suguru walks over to the futon you’re sitting on and sits down beside you. He’s elegant for a man of his stature, gifted with poised, calming movements. Never in a hurry – he likes to take his time. Normally.
His gojo-kesa still on, loosened at the top, allowing you to glimpse at the marrow of his collar bones spread out like wings, flying above you. His black hair opened, welcoming you in like the cloak of death. His face shimmers so pale in the candlelight that you believe to see his skull, breakable bones. But he is too alive to yet be considered a dead man walking.
Suguru is busy these days, perhaps more so than ever. The mentions of his plan become frequent, burning into your ears like a prayer.
Leaning back on his hands, he begins to tell you a story. He explains that he read it once while walking through a library, and that he still can’t forget about it. You're reminded of your younger days when your mother would read you bedtime stories before you went to sleep – every night you’d ask for a German folk tale. She used to scold you, claiming it wasn’t good for you to hear too many of them. They're too dark for your young mind, it would taint you, mess with you. You didn't listen to her, because you didn't understand.
You're not sure if you do now.
Suguru continues to tell the story and you re-cross your legs, your calves numb from all the standing and walking and running today. You can feel a cramp starting to form, so you hold your breath as you stretch one leg out for a few seconds.
You find yourself not paying full attention. Only a few snippets of the story stay with you, pinned to the wall inside your brain. Bound together. Having to choose. Loyalty. Love. Devotion. Betrayal. The protagonist stayed with the man who murdered his entire abusive family.
You’ve moved a lot today, your shirt clings to your wet skin, leaving see-through spots. The scent of vanilla and sweat fuse together, a throb in the temple of your head that plays a shrill melody. You wipe the collected sweat off your brow, your makeup starting to separate. The hair at your nape is damp and sticking together uncomfortably, creating a spider web. You really need to take a shower.
Suguru doesn't mind it. He told you that once. He prefers your natural form, cut open for him. You shouldn't hide yourself, he mentioned as he scrubbed you clean a few nights ago, your skin raw. You show me all of you, and I show you all of me. Granted permission to expose each other.
You were still fresh-lipped when you first visited his temple, wounds unnoticed by the average eye, caused by the monsters around you whose existence you couldn't comprehend. Suguru helped you. A limp that disfigured your foot, which he immediately noticed with his keen eyes, so he decided to save you, to purify you. He beckoned you in, holding treats in one hand, a leash hidden behind his back in the other.
Your mother was the catalyst; the one who brought you to him and sealed your fate. You guess you miss her. You are her only child and she is your only parent.
Sometimes you ask yourself if the love she’s coated you with – the blanket she’s tucked you in - is the love that would have been given to your father; sometimes heated anger slips through the moth-eaten holes in the blanket. Even when you’ve done nothing wrong. But your irises are coloured with a different palette to hers, and your voice is much steadier than her trembling, whistling one. An innate mistake, a painful reminder of what was, impossible to erase. Both a blessing and a curse.
A younger, high-pitched voice within you asks for her, frail from her absence. It seems to need nurturing, but your current body is quite full now.
Suguru finishes the story and asks what you think of it.
You take a sip of your tea, the sugar hurts your teeth and your mouth curls in response. The sweetness takes on a note of bitterness, staining your tongue.
Devotion can be a sickening thing, mistaking an unbreakable chain for a string meant to bind two souls together. One soul ends up playing the role of the loyal dog, always coming back even after a blow or a kick; most faithful. Dooming loyalty that will deliberately rot your intestines.
You gulp down the liquid and respond, “He was brave to stay by his side.”
Suguru hums, “I thought so too.”
The clink of ceramic cups, left-over cold tea swimming at the bottom - strange. It was warm just a moment ago.
You clear your throat, the sound nearly stuck in the back.
"I've been thinking about visiting my mother. It's been too long since I last saw her."
An innocent announcement; a mindless roll of your tongue, a secondary thought. It's truly innocent; an adult remembering that they're still a child to someone, and you don't think anyone else could see it otherwise.
"Your mother?" Suguru repeats, "I see."
You've been with him long enough to notice the change in his tone. Your finger curls around a strand of your hair, toying with it.
"Is there a problem?"
"I'm surprised. You haven't mentioned her in a while."
"That's why I want to meet up with her again."
"But why?"
"You mean why I want to meet up with her?" You blink, disbelief falling from your lashes. "Well, she's my mother."
"So it's out of obligation."
"…Suguru. What-"
"Let me ask differently: do you want to see her?"
His voice stays candied the whole time. Sickly.
“I believe I wouldn’t be unhappy to see her,” you reply with caution. Your palms are hot and cold.
He clicks his tongue, "Say: do you think my cause is meaningless? Do you think I’m not serious enough about it?”
"No,” you respond, so faintly that you're not sure the word even escaped your mouth. Then, increased in volume, “No, of course not."
"Do you think it would be wise from me and the people who have joined my side to make exceptions?”
A paper falls from his desk.
"...What do you mean?"
"You're a smart girl, you know exactly what I mean."
A sharp pain runs through your leg – there’s the cramp you’ve been dreading.
“Do you mean it?”
You wear your mother’s face. Parts of it. Doesn’t he feel resentment towards you too?
"I can't make exceptions. We can’t make them. Once you start with making one, it will multiply, and we’ll lose sight of our goal."
It makes sense, you say to yourself. He’s right.
You should hide in the shadows, away from his reach. But he’d find you, you’re sure of it.
"She’s my mother, Suguru…how could I ever do this to her?"
You wonder if his next words come from a curse stuck in his throat.
"I killed my parents."
What should be a confession sounds more like a simple piece of information. Common knowledge. Apathetic. You keep a steady face, fangs not bared. You’re good, after all.
"Did you struggle?"
His head falls back into his neck, leaving enough space for a knife to cut across it. Would his blood be wine, intoxicating your senses, or a forest fire, burning you alive?
"Not as much as I thought. But I didn't think too much about it - I just did what I thought had to be done. It wasn't meaningless." Amber locks into your form, "Do you think of me differently now? Did I destroy your perception of me?"
You’re aware of the desperate darkness that clings to him; you felt it the moment he first entered your view. Instead of feeling dread, you were guided by curiosity, which was then delicately replaced by his hand. You could have turned around – you had the chance. And yet you walked into your own demise.
"I’m not sure," you take another second, maybe even two or three, “did you love them?”
“I did,” his answer comes out placid, “But they would have been a hindrance for my plan.”
Your leg has become numb at this point.
"Do you want to leave?"
Do you want to abandon me?
You swallow. The sound is too loud, bouncing off the bars that surround the four walls of his room. Was the tapestry in your room a sky-blue, or was it a steel-blue? Did your alarm clock stand on your bedside table or on your work desk? You're rummaging through your memory, but it’s all a blur.
"Would you let me?"
Would you ever give me a choice?
He sighs, "I need you by my side. That's the only thing I'd demand from you."
"The only thing, huh?" Your stare drifts to your lap, leg bouncing restlessly. “Don’t be so modest with your demands.”
The tea cup stops under his chin.
"What was that tone?" His head tilts, "Or did I just imagine that?"
You'd like to claim it’s an unexpected switch, but Suguru has always walked a fine line between malice and tenderness. You should have expected this, really. The light in his eyes dims, as if you extinguished a flickering flame from a candle. It happens so quickly, you can’t catch it and you can’t prepare for it.
Before you can take another breath and apologise for what slipped out, two of his fingers enter your mouth, your teeth scraping against them, the pads of them rubbing against the muscle of your tongue. You're drooling, thick wetness coating his fingers and dripping down your chin, and you’re heaving against the intrusion in your mouth, cheek bellowing. Suguru rubs along your gums, your jaw forced to open wider until you hear a nauseating pop from your jawbone. You can taste his day on your finger.
"Don't you like it when you're full of me?" his brows drawn together, two arrows that make you focus on the crinkled skin between them. For a moment, you’re gone somewhere else, merging into the skin you’re staring at. With a blink, you’re forced out of it, back here again.
His gaze is indifferent, and you’re met with obsidian spheres for pupils; remnants of his cursed technique. You try to say something, but the words come gurgling out of your throat; you’re speaking underwater, blood filling your lungs as the tips of his daggers grace your uvula, and you choke. Helplessly, you cling to his arm - as if he could save you from himself - knuckles bone-white, green in the face, red splotches marring your cheekbones.
Suguru tuts, "You shouldn't speak with your mouth full."
Then, you bite down. Hard. You think you hear a scrunch. A loyal dog is still a dog at the end of the day, capable of biting, tearing through the muzzle that is constricting it.
Hissing through clenched teeth, he immediately withdraws his hand. Threads of mucus connect his fingers to your shining lips, and for a moment you expect a slap, eyes immediately squeezed shut, but his hand cups the cracked porcelain of your cheek. Blunt nails dig in, painting you.
"Have you never heard of the saying 'don't bite at the hand that feeds you'? Don't start acting out now, you've been so good this far."
His words stir your saliva into spoiled syrup. Your tongue cotton, sticking to the bottom. Shakily, you breathe out, "You're…"
"What? Sick? A monster?" The thin tails of his brows twitch, mocking you, "wasn't I your savior?"
He sees his reflection in the tears that gather at the edges of your eyes; a self-portrait, a caricature of a God. Him, him, him. He'll always find himself inside of you, blossoming from the seed carefully planted in the pit of your stomach.
Bleary eyes and clumped eyelashes. Not crystals, not diamonds, but raindrops that had fallen from the grey sky, stripped of their lustre. Suguru could live with this sight for the rest of his life, getting rid of it, and bringing it back, getting rid of it, and bringing it back. A heavenly cycle.
“Don’t cry,” he smiles.
A tear falls with a flutter and rolls down the plump swell of your cheek, leaving behind a wet trail, and before it can reach your jaw, Suguru catches it with his finger. He brings it up, tongue flicking out to lick it, sea salt prickling him. Suguru groans; a poor, starving man tasting a rare, exotic delicacy for the first time. Delectable. Addictive. You fear he might not stop here, that greed might overtake him.
You burn, "Why?”
"You didn't really leave me much of a choice."
“It scared me.”
You scare me.
“My poor girl,” Suguru coos, velvety. His lithe fingers are cold, ice, on your face as they stroke your pulsing flesh. “Sometimes you just have to think before you say something. Alright?”
Your eyebrows crease and Suguru kisses them away. His kisses wander over the bridge of your nose, your cupid’s bow, hovering over the plush of your lower lip, and then your chin. His lips leave marks that burn into your skin, scorching, leaving invisible white tissue, and you nearly reach out to scratch at them, feeling as if your skin might melt away.
Your spine tingles, buried under thick muscles and crawling like a centipede.
“Alright?” It echoes.
You try your best to give him a nod. Your neck is stiff and you're afraid it might fall off if you move wrong. The urge to wring it out like a wet cloth enters you, but you get lost in the spirals of gold in his eyes - trapped between them, forced to keep looking.
Your lips crack open, a wooden door croaking and crying.
"I still don't understand."
"You don't have to,” he retorts, silk from the tip of his tongue wrapping around your own, "your heart does it for you. Don't you feel it?"
Bile rises to your throat as he clasps his large palm over your smaller one, bringing it to your chest. Your heart races, too hard, too fast, an uneven, repulsive rhythm. "It beats for me, doesn't it? Has it ever beaten like this for anyone else?"
You shake your head. Less stiff, this time. More precipitate.
His thumb rubs along your wet, briny cheek, warming it like a cup of milk, molding it into a smooth surface. And you fall into him. You're a traitor.
The ends of his lips curve down, feigning sadness. You're shaken and he wants to cradle you into his arms, whispering that everything will be all right as he rocks you from side to side. Carry you like a child carries a baby doll, with pure affection and the carelessness of too much eagerness.
"Come here," he mutters as he leans into you, caging you in. Your guts are churning, broken stones sitting so heavily in your abandonment that you can't move.
He runs a hand through your hair, stroking it, and exhales as his body collapses against yours. Hard muscles soften, you could tear them apart if that’s what you wished for. Your insides squirm like maggots infesting a corpse, and you wonder if he can detect the scent of decay. Your lungs wither, it hurts to breathe.
You consider banging your head against the floor. Let your mind rearrange itself.
Your back lands on the cushion of the futon beneath you as he moves you to lie down. His head falls between the joined space of your neck and shoulder, huffing leafy breath into your skin, his hair tickling your exposed spots. You can feel the angle of his soft smile, the blood pumping through his veins. He’s alive. Peach fuzz turns into needles.
“You mean so much to me. To my family. You’ll never get hurt here.” Earnest like a fox from a fable, saccharine words float between you. He plants a kiss on the crown of your head, declaring you his. You bury your face in the hollow of his neck, your eyelids dropping close. “You want to be my family too, don’t you?”
It’s all so tender and considerate. Calculated.
His words are never meaningless, not purely meant to fill silence. He speaks with intent - each syllable carrying weight, delivered with sharp, cutting precision. You try to decipher them, to mimic them, as if translating ancient ruins.
“Don't," Suguru warns, pressing his palm to the side of your face, "don't think too much. You’ll hurt your head like that.”
Glimpses of a golden boy, carrying far too much in his feeble heart, transformed into a bronze statue that is looked up to, ghosts of rust on his hands and feet and mouth and throat.
He separates from you and you continue to lie still. A body buried alive. One that has given up.
"Do you want another one?" Suguru asks you as he reaches out for the kettle and gracefully pours the remaining water into your cup. The water fills the cup to the brim, and any careless movement threatens to tip it over. The sugar dissolves, disappearing in a mist that obscures your vision.
"Yes, please."
#geto x reader#cw dark content#geto x you#suguru geto x reader#suguru x reader#geto suguru x reader#suguru x you#jjk x reader
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Creepy Obey me! AU
𝖲𝖾𝗇𝗌𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾 𝗍𝗈𝗉𝗂𝖼𝗌 𝖼𝖺𝗇 𝖻𝖾 𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗋𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌, 𝗌𝗎𝖼𝗁 𝖺𝗌: 𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗌𝗂𝗏𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝗁𝖺𝗏𝗂𝗈𝗋, 𝗆𝗎𝗋𝖽𝖾𝗋, 𝗁𝖺𝗋𝖺𝗌𝗌𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍, 𝗏𝗂𝗈𝗅𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗀𝗎𝖺𝗀𝖾, 𝗌𝖾𝗑𝗎𝖺𝗅 𝖺𝖼𝗍𝗌, 𝖽𝖾𝗆𝗈𝗇𝗂𝖼 𝗉𝗈𝗌𝗌𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌, 𝖼𝗈𝗋𝗉𝗌𝖾𝗌, 𝖺𝗆𝗈𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋𝗌. 𝖯𝗋𝗈𝖼𝖾𝖾𝖽 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖼𝖺𝗎𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇. Remember: The following information might not be that accurate comparing to Lucifer's canon personality.
Lucifer
⌞Feeding Habits⌝
࿔ Carnivorous (meat-eating)
࿔ Hunting habits: Lucifer harbors a distaste for the act of hunting souls directly. Instead, he frequents a secluded area in Devildom where lost souls wander, offering a more palatable source for consumption.
However, when it comes to acquiring meat, his approach takes a stark turn. He revels in the thrill of stalking his prey from a distance. The panicked screams only serve to heighten his excitement, igniting a primal thrill within him as he closes in on his target. ㅤ
⌞Unique features⌝
࿔ Two pairs of black feathered wings, some says they can cure wounds, but no one was brave enough to try plucking a feather.
࿔ Specific scent: He emits a natural scent reminiscent of roaring flames, so potent that it can induce discomfort and even prompt coughing fits. ࿔ Height: 1,97 m ㅤ
⌞Reproductive Habits, Seasonal Changes⌝
࿔ Mating seasons: Courtship displays - Lucifer's devotion to his mate knows no bounds, often manifesting in grand gestures and displays of affection. However, don't be too quick to celebrate, for alongside his demonstrations of love, you may find an unexpected presence creeping into your surroundings. Ghostly apparitions, once mortal souls he dispatched, now transformed into loyal servants, subtly assist you with your daily tasks, a testament to his unwavering commitment to your well-being.
࿔ Nest building - He leaves a whole mess of feathers scattered across his bed, evidence of his restless nature and feral instincts. Some of them bear traces of blood, torn impatiently from his own wings in moments of unchecked impulse. Afterward, he may find himself sore and in need of assistance, perhaps even seeking your help to tend to the wounds inflicted by his own fervor. ࿔ Seasonal variations: Aggressive Behavior - He won't let his brothers come closer to you until his breeding instincts are gone. They won't try either, none of them wants to be hanged from the ceiling for weeks. Scent Marking - Brushes his feathers against you, imparting a subtle scent that escapes human detection but leaves you enveloped in a warm, weighty sensation. Alternatively, he may press his face into your neck, tracing gentle licks along your skin. As he marks you with his presence, you notice a distinct shift in the demeanor of other demons, since no one wants to defy Lucifer himself by getting too close. ㅤAnd of course, an intense craving to ravage you at least 3 times a day. ㅤ
⌞Territorial Behavior⌝
࿔ Aggressive displays/Territory defense: Lucifer wanders around the house when he has free time. Not just casually walking tho, he makes guttural sounds and stomps heavily. No one dares getting out of their room when he is passing the corridor. ㅤ
⌞Sleeping and Resting Patterns⌝
You see, there isn't Day/Night in devildom, just emptiness and darkness, so we are using as reference, RAD's daily activities to measure time. Class time being the morning, class end being twilight and after dinner being night.
࿔ Nocturnal (active during the night). The avatar of pride hates waking up early in the morning, he gets more active at night, and you can see a slight change in his behavior at this time, getting more chill than normally. ㅤ
⌞Bad/Creepy habits⌝
࿔ Lucifer loves classical music, especially cursed records. Do not dare come close to the music room when his songs start playing, or you might end up piercing your own eardrums, trapped in an unstoppable curse. ㅤ
⌞Defense Mechanisms⌝
࿔ Lucifer has the power to hear through walls and can teleport behind someone if they say his name out loud to check why he is being mentioned.
࿔ Possesses a remarkable immunity to the majority of poisonous substances found within Devildom. Similarly, he remains largely unfazed by the powers wielded by angels. Only the most ancient and powerful curses have any hope of affecting him. ㅤ
⌞Hygiene and Grooming⌝
࿔ Self-grooming: Grooming, or preening, is the meticulous art of cleaning and maintaining various parts of the body. Lucifer, in particular, dedicates himself to keeping his feathers impeccable, adhering to a strict schedule of cleaning every three days. This meticulous task demands much of his time and attention, occasionally leading him to fall asleep in the middle of his grooming rituals. ㅤ
⌞Playful Behavior⌝
࿔ How do they release stress? For Lucifer, playing the piano serves as a refuge where he can lose himself in the soothing melodies, calming his mind and easing the burdens of his responsibilities. However, if one were to delve into his more sinister forms of stress relief, a scene of horror awaits. He takes perverse pleasure in seeking out the terrified sounds of lost humans, reveling in their fear as he approaches, a dark satisfaction coursing through him at the sight of their trembling forms. Proud of the intimidating aura he exudes, Lucifer finds solace in the knowledge of his power and dominance over those who dare to cross his path. "Yes, scream, let me hear how much it hurts when I devour you. I could do this all day" ㅤ
⌞Human Interaction⌝
࿔ Responses to human presence: Annoyed, he doesn't understand why such an important demon as himself needs to be in the same ambient as an insignificant mortal. Won't attack unless you trespass his boundaries, but will threaten the hell out of you.
࿔ Domestication behaviors: None. Jk jk, he has his soft spots, but hides them very well. Give him some ultra-rare cursed vinyl. Or worship his boots. He will pretend it doesn't affect him, but seeing you bend down to his feet? That makes him excited. If you manage to earn his trust and affection, a rare privilege indeed, you may find him unexpectedly responsive to your touch. A shiver courses through him, and a near-purr escapes his lips when you scratch the base of his horns, a gesture that elicits a subtle display of pleasure from the typically composed demon lord.
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