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hadesrise · 5 months ago

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## murder for you, baby !!

summary──── a justifiable serial killer on the loose, and jason finds himself being enamoured by him.

pairings──── jason todd x dbd!ghostface!male reader

warnings──── nsfw content, serial killer themes, dead dove do not eat, sexual arousal in response to violence or torture, murder, blood, deaths, gore, foul language, bottom!jason, top!reader, reader’s physique is described as tall and broad ( the slasher build ), possessiveness, choking, praise kink, blood kink, knife play ( reader carving his initials on jason ), toxic!reader ( ? ), sorta toxic relationship but also not, unprotected sex, love-making, pet names, overstimulation, dumbification, degradation if you squint, lil’ bit of manipulation, creampie, doggy style, mating press, biting, marking, oral ( r. receiving ), voice kink ( ? )

author’s note──── not me coming back with halloween themed fic after halloween days have passed lol. i’m alive, y’all !! hope you enjoy this one that took a fucking month to write 😭

𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 ; this post may contain disturbing contents that may not be suitable for every reader — a reader discretion is advised. MINORS DNI !!

Gotham’s been terrorized by the worst people you could ever imagine, the kind that’ll stick with you forever and take residence to your nightmares if you were unfortunate enough. Many were hurt or even murdered as a result of the villains’ terrorization, with vigilantes running through the night to capture and send them to Arkham Asylum.

With the existence of a Psychopathic Clown, his equally psychopathic girlfriend with PHD’s that’s been wasted down the line, the Mother Nature freak, the ridiculously huge man with a gas mask on, the green coloured living question mark, and many others, no one would’ve ever thought anything could get any worse.

Until some criminals’ bodies turn up across the streets in such disturbing manner that haunts the witnesses to death.

One, a criminal who murdered young and homeless boys, gutted deeply to the point of their intestines hanging out. Another, a criminal known for kidnapping and selling people’s organs, mutilated with their torso torn back to expose the organs settled inside of them. Another one, a priest-turned-criminal who’s been violating women and children, crucified naked in his own church with his eyes gouged out, a Bible verse carved in his chest; ‘And if your eye causes you to sin, gouge it out and throw it away.’ Matthew 18:9; his penis cut off and body seemingly violated as well. Another more turns up, a governor-turned-criminal who’s been feeding into the rich despite their oath of generosity towards the poor, severely tortured with the skin on his back cut open, ribs severed from the spine and broken to the sides in order to create the illusion of wings, fluttering lungs pulled out from their chest cavity to resemble an eagle’s wings, with the word ‘traitor’ carved on his forehead.

The brutality and gruesome nature of the murders has set an alarming panic and fear across Gotham City that forced civilians into locking their doors at night. Criminals who were unidentified and not found by Gotham Police Department were also turning up in a form of miserable, tortured soul, along with the evidence and proofs of their crimes being carelessly laid beside their lifeless corpse.

The killer taunts those who are in charge of justice within their city each time the damned were unfortunate enough to be hunted down; pigs of failure written in the criminal’s blood right beside the drawing of a police’s logo.

However, despite how gruesome and disturbing the murders were, most people couldn’t deny that it was doing the city a favor. Justice System has failed more times than one could count to the extent of victims yearning to exact revenge themselves against their perpetrator, which causes most to react rather positively to the wrongful, unlikely hero who had seem to suddenly appear out of nowhere. The haunted finally getting the chance to slay the traumatic demons with the help of another psychopath on the loose.

Another justified monstrosity shouldn’t be the counter against one inhumane monstrosity that caused so much pain, trauma, and misery. But kindness could not vanquish one’s tainted blood. Forgiveness could not suddenly wash away the sins engraved deeply into one’s soul.

Imperfect, the victims muttered. An imperfect yet perfect way to save our burning souls wrongfully condemned by the criminals.

Red Hood has heard their murmurs.

Silent whispers of gratitude that fell on deaf ears, their previously dim soul brightening in relief and sanctuary with smiles on their faces as the Universe had finally took mercy on them and sent a Fallen Angel to slay the Demons away. He’s watched their spirit uplift, no longer chained down by the trauma and fear of the monsters that once ruined their lives, able to walk the streets carefree of tormentors. He’s watched their stiff posture visibly loosen, lively peacefulness settling itself at last within their haunted eyes. He’s watched them glow with happiness not feeling the presence of their perpetrator every couple of seconds, finally capable of living without needing to constantly look over their shoulders in paranoia and fear.

Ghostface is what the serial killer’s called, nickname born out of the mask that resembled a ghost always being left behind in crime scenes, each slightly different.

Jason has seen you. He didn’t mean to, really.

The temptation to get at least one look at you was great every-time he patrolled, wishing to just catch glimpse of an immoral hero who could make sacrifices no actual heroes could — who’s doing exactly what he wished before for Batman to do.

The Universe seems to have granted his wishes when his eyes catches the void of ghostface’s eyes, your mask tainted in splatters of blood from the dead criminal below you. Jason feels his world come to a stop as you slowly rise from crouching position and reveal your unnaturally tall height, broad shoulders visible under the black hooded leather. You hold silence and calmness despite being caught, tilting your head slightly to the side.

His heartbeat quickens yet he doesn’t feel fear. Jason idiotically steps closer as if he was in a trance, burning your existence within his eyes to engrave in his memory. Your bloody knife barely grazes his neck to stop him before using it to tilt his chin up, your figure looming and towering over him while seemingly staring into his eyes through his helmet.

A sense of peacefulness overcomes Jason being in your presence despite the absolute brutality and mercilessness that surrounded your entire being. You were deadly, silent, certainly creative with your work that it deems almost artistic, as if the criminals’ bodies were your own canvas to paint on — and Jason finds solace in you. A man he always needed, someone who’d be willing to cross the line and get rid of the actual evil for the sake of victims that’d be forever haunted if it continues to exist.

“I’ve heard things about you, Red Hood.”

Low, raspy, monotone voice speaks, sending shivers down his spine. It sounds cool and handsome regardless of the obvious use of voice changer, somehow littered with tiniest hint of flirtatiousness.

It takes him quite a while to answer, barely managing to let out a “yeah?” as he feels you drag the knife slightly closer to his pulse. His heartbeat quickens, but slows down when the cold metal was finally pulled away.

“Pleasant things,” You hummed, before your voice lowered a few octaves, “Can’t say the same about Batman.” Anger seems to seep through your tone that felt a little more than just sympathy for victims of villains Batman refused to put six feet under. Jason wondered if you’re also one of the victims his father failed.

“You… You know him that much?” Jason’s voice shakes from the nerve, your presence somehow greatly affecting him.

“I think everyone knows him enough,” You chuckled, but it sounded so empty that Jason can’t help but feel the goosebumps rise on his skin. It was quite chilling to meet someone who shows only a certain amount of emotion which could even be felt expressionless due to the monotonous pitch. The ghostface mask certainly did its job of making you seem more less human, the unmoving expression of ghost being horrified to death adding to the eeriness of your toneless mechanic voice.

Jason’s breath hitched when you took one step closer.

“But I know more about you. Your little past and the sufferings you’ve endured,” It’s spoken as if his life was one of your necessary investigation in your twisted justice. “It’s unfair, don’t you think? I would’ve gutted the Joker like a fish if it were to happen to my son.” There’s a condescending way in which you spoke, not directed at Jason but to Bruce.

“How—” Jason swallowed. “How did you—”

“I can make your dreams come true,” You interrupted him with a tempting offer, shutting him up effectively. Wide grin plastered your face despite not being seen behind your mask. “I can kill the Clown for you, Red Hood. If it means it’ll silence your troubled spirit. If it’ll bring you peace. I can hurt him on your behalf just like he deserves.”

It was like a whisper from the devil, slithering its way into Jason’s heart and mind to possess his soul, mirroring the one which whispered on Adam and Eve’s ears.

He’s been wanting — needing — to hear those words come out of Bruce. His suffering and death seemingly being brushed off as a cruel accident shattered him more than he’d ever admit, Bruce’s unhealthy coping mechanism and morality getting in the way of showing his love for Jason that left the younger man feel lesser than he was. Bruce was a complex person that’s sometimes difficult to understand, his impressive ways to stick to his morals being exactly his character, but Jason wanted for once, to actually feel how important he was to his father.

Was that too much to ask for, or was he just unworthy of the entirety of it?

“Why would you do that for me?” Confusion and subtle suspicion filled his tone as Jason narrowed his eyes, trying to figure out your intention despite the rush of hope that shot throughout his chest. He forced himself to feel nothing when you leaned in closer.

“Because you were wronged, of course.” You simply stated. “You are a victim. Not more, not less. You deserve a little more than just empty justice. And I’m a man who got tired of vigilantes that are afraid to make sacrifices for the greater good.” Then, you tilt your head slightly to the side in a way that’s somehow alluring. “But I can also say I’m intrigued by you.”

Jason’s heartbeat quickens again when your big hand seems to wrap perfectly around his throat, fingers resting just above his pulse points. It makes such filthy thoughts flood themselves into his mind, your long and quite thick fingers falling victims to his tainted imagination, and he had to give everything in himself not to bare his throat more for you. You seem pleased of his lack of disobedience and bite, having expected him to shove your hand away or flinch back before you could touch him. You’ve seen Red Hood once and how his uncontrollable rage resulted in violence, heavy burdens and extreme trauma turning him into a ticking time bomb that could explode any minute with the wrong move. He was absolutely lethal, the bullets serving as the evidence of his wrath and resentment towards the underground scumbags. It’s amusing that you have the man of violence himself now somehow completely under your control, surprisingly quiet and shy and obedient. You wondered if this is how he was before he was ruined by the cruelty of the world.

“You want it, don’t you? For me to kill the Joker.”

Jason feels as if you know everything he wants. Is this what it feels like to be important?

It takes a little while for him to answer, but he eventually came up with a “You’ll do that?” which sounded vulnerable and weak for the first time in his second life. Your heart clenched at the doubt and seemingly child-like vulnerability in which he uttered the words, as if he was afraid to trust something after being betrayed countless of times, reminding you of the sole person you’ve even began doing all of this for. They were quite similar yet so different — your older brother and Jason.

You hadn’t meant to cross his boundaries and unknowingly step into the empty hole that made home in his heart. Unconsciously slithering in like a snake by touching the subject his heart was longing for, not realizing his childhood’s still remaining within his spirit.

All he wanted was love and to feel safe again. You didn’t know the Red Hood was so adorably pitiful. A smirk plastered your face.

“I will,” You reassured and leaned your face inches away from his, the hand on his throat lifting his helmet slightly.

Jason doesn’t retaliate, blinded by a meat of hope dangled in front of him. He doesn’t move as the lower half of his face was exposed, and you lifted your own mask the same using your other hand. Jason willingly, obediently closes his eyes before your lips attached to his — a kiss of death, tasting like blood and cruelty. Warm and soft despite your rough, cold-blooded, corrupted soul. A kiss from the devil.

When Jason opened his eyes, you had already disappeared into the darkness with blood stains on the ground you stood before, a single note left behind; Hell will reopen for the Clown.

After neatly tucking the note inside his jacket and making sure no evidence has been accidentally left on the crime scene, Red Hood smiles for the first time in a long while and reaches for the comms without a heavy heart.

“Batman, I found another body.”

Whatever happens, he’ll have no knowledge of the following misfortune that’ll befall on the Joker. It’s the righteous serial killer’s doing, after all.

What was used to be a maniacal laughter turned into screams of agony and pain. Strong stench of death and blood makes euphoria rush within your mind, the feeling of slicing through flesh with your knife bringing pleasure and ecstasy that made your pants tight. There’s a certain amount of satisfaction in the way your own actions cause serious harm and scarring to criminals who once deemed themselves powerful, being reduced into nothing but a powerless prey that could easily be gotten rid of.

You feel increasingly powerful the more you strip them of their dignity and arrogance as they shed blood on the holy ground. Your existence alone striking them with crippling fear and anxiety feeds into your ego, yet you never stray away from the sole purpose or reason for your murders — making them taste their own medicine.

From what you found on countless deep dive and research, Joker preyed on Red Hood when he was still a young child full of life and joy, having been under the name Robin at the time. Second Robin to be exact, considering he was a lot different from the first one. It actually surprisingly pained you when you’d seen how much of an adorable, dorky, nice kid he was before misfortune cut his life short. You would’ve never thought you would find a kid adorable in your entire life, the little menaces often being nothing more than a headache to be around with that caused a certain dislike to grow towards them within you, but Jason was everything a cute kid was. Just excited to be there, to be fighting alongside Batman, to be relevant.

Such a precious boy ruined for the sake of shits and giggles for the Clown. For the sake of getting under Batman’s skin. And the Bat couldn’t even make fucking amends to his flaws as a father and mentor.

Well, he didn’t need to anymore.

You’ll give Red Hood— Jason Todd —what he wants. Yearned for. Perhaps, even what the other civilians who have fallen victims to this vile criminal want. You would stop at nothing until every criminal is gurgling and choking on their own blood.

Joker’s scream shoots a jolt of electricity within your body as your knife pierce through his skinny thigh and to the ground, pinning his leg down. You had been doing an effective job of reducing the maniac into nothing but a screaming, cowering average victim by torture. Bruises, burns, gashes, and stab wounds littered his body that was done carefully enough to not be life-threatening. Fucker was laughing maniacally at first, of course. It irritated you so much that you might’ve went a little overboard.

Watching Joker heave and struggle to breathe from the pain, you tilted your head and roughly grabbed his throat. It catches him off guard and he grips your wrist, barely even having the strength to fight you off. You’re amused by the entirety of Joker’s nature, how he’s still just an average man that can easily be overpowered — nothing that makes him special enough to not be killed, becoming proof of Batman’s selfish willingness to let the victims suffer than bring them actual peace.

You’ve never uttered a word since you captured him and it unnerved Joker from the beginning, but then, words finally come out of your mouth in a form of monotonous, mechanical, emotionless, eerie voice as you lean over him; “Laugh it out, Joker. Why so serious?”

It sounded like a death sentence.

He’s right in a way, because another of your knife pierced the corner of his mouth soon as you uttered the words. Your other hand tightened on his arteries to choke him while you drag the knife to slit the side of his mouth into a grin, following the lines of his red lipstick. It was certainly not a clean cut, but an artist has their own creative ways to make their art. Tears mixed in with blood that gushes out of his face, complete horrors written across Joker’s eyes which boosts your satisfaction. You go on and do the same thing to the other side of his mouth, before finishing your art piece by carving ‘J’ on his painted cheek.

You resist the urge to moan at the sight of blood coating your fine piece, always finding it to be an amazing finishing touch.

From then on, Joker was brought to literal Hell.

Jason flinches when a playful knock sounded from his safe house’s window, cautiously approaching to see ghostface waving at him through the glass. His eyes widened and immediately opens the window to let you in, not wanting anyone to see you — your sudden appearance distracting him from the fact he’s never given anyone the location of his safe house.

He stops in track at the blood splatters across your mask, and just then had he noticed you seemed to be hiding something behind your back with one hand. It definitely strikes his curiosity, but he somehow didn’t feel like you were holding something that could harm him.

“You got something for me, ghostface?” Jason feels you grin under your mask.

“Got you a present,” Your raspy, rough voice enthusiastically quipped.

Jason’s breath hitches when you show what you were holding — the Joker’s decapitated head in a square glass container tainted by its blood. You obviously had planned to bring it barehand, but you considered the possibility of its blood dripping down on his safe house and becoming a false evidence to point him to the murder, which prompted you to put it inside the container. An unbelievably sweet gesture for a fucking psychopath like you.

Jason could feel his heart beat rapidly as he takes in the animal’s state, carved up grin and the letter J and the horrors seen in its lifeless eyes proving the absolute misery and suffering it went through before being put down. The monster was finally, finally slain and gone forever from his life. Nightmares detangles from his spirit and the past unwraps away from his soul, utter peace and relief spreading throughout his chest. Tears gathered in his eyes at the feeling of being free at last from the life long torment, breath shaking as his knees wobbled.

The child in himself, the innocent Robin that was killed unfairly, finally rests in peace.

Then he sees you, his hero, waving your seemingly new knife playfully in the air with your outfit splattered in blood without a care that you actually saved him, and Jason feels a sudden surge of arousal and will to submit. To give you everything, anything.

“Do you love it, Red Hood?”

Without answering you, Jason grabs the glass container with shaky hands and sets it aside on the counter before stepping back closer to you again, blood rushing to his veins from arousal. He removes his helmet with a thud on the floor and falls to his knees in front of you, lustful and yearning emerald eyes looking up at you.

“Let me thank you, please.”

It makes you groan as your pants significantly tightens more.

You slide your knife back into the holster before cupping his beautiful face in your hands, and thank fucking Heavens there wasn’t any blood on it that would taint his face, because he’s a sight to behold. He’s truly a gem, something precious you had never seen before. “So beautiful,” You whispered, making Jason flush. “Baring yourself to me for such a simple present, doll?”

“Not a simple present,” Jason mumbled as he snuggles on the palm of your hands. “You saved me.”

You hum appreciatively, getting the itch to bare yourself to him as well. “You wanna thank me by what?”

Jason looks back at you, face flushed with a little hint of uncertainty and embarrassment, doubts. “I— uhm,” He stammers, but encouraged by your thumb’s gentle stroke on his cheek. “By… by becoming yours.”

Your cock throbs. Fuck, he’s so fucking adorable, you just wanna fuck his guts out. You’re usually tempted to gut people, not fuck their guts— which is funny to say the least— but you weren’t going to say no when the Red Hood’s so willing to offer himself up.

“You wanna take my mask off, doll?” He seems surprised by your question as if he hadn’t thought of it, making you chuckle. “If you wanna be mine, I gotta be yours too, don’t I?” It was dangerous to reveal your identity to him, but you couldn’t care less, especially when you could just fuck his brains out to shut him up. That’s the plan, first time that didn’t include butchering or cutting a body up.

Jason fucking Todd and his effects on you.

The emerald eyed male hesitantly grasped your mask when you led his hands to it, slowly lifting it over your head. He’s met with a fucking luscious feature to ever be adorned on a man and dark, lustfully murderous blood red eyes that makes a whimper slip past his lips. You merely widened your eyes at the sound he made before immediately grabbing his jaw and smashing your lips against his, swallowing Jason’s surprised gasp.

He reciprocates the insatiable hunger you displayed, tongue dancing along with yours and moaning into the kiss when your fingers lightly tugged on his hair. You pull him up in amidst of making out and squeeze his ass, encouraging him to wrap his legs around your hips. You detach your lips from his to trail kisses down his jaw and neck as you walked towards his bedroom, questionably knowing where it is, and Jason tilts his head back to give you more access with closed eyes. Letting him stimulate both of your restrained cocks by grinding down, you sat down on the bed and sucked on his throat as Jason moaned.

“Please, please…” He whimpers, uncontrollably moving his hips in a perfect rhythm yet he seemed to want something else.

You pulled away and traced his lips with your thumb, watching as he naturally took it in and sucked, giving you a desperate look. Swiftly turning off the voice changer attached to your neck in a form of choker, you chuckled when his hands fiddled with the belt on your hooded coat. “So needy, aren’t you?” Your real voice sends shivers down his spine.

An alluring, low, slightly rough pitch and somehow more emotionless than when you were using the voice changer. It makes his cock twitch and empty hole clench down on nothing, the need to be stuffed full of your cum swarming in his belly. You’re fucking bewitching, a man made up from every guy and girl’s fantasy, wet dream, and your attractiveness mirroring the Devil’s that would tempt and lure others to sin.

How the fuck were you real?

“Speak up, pretty bird.” You smirked, “What do you want?”

“Your cock,” Jason mutters, cheeks tinted in pink. “Wanna suck your cock and make you feel good.”

“Fuck…” You shifted in place, “You’ll do that f’me? Get my cock nice and wet to take you apart? To fuck your guts out?”

Jason shakily inhales and nods, climbing off your lap and kneeling on the floor. You lean back on your hands as he unstraps your belt and slide your zipper down, slightly raising your hips to help him get rid of the excess clothes. Your thick and lengthy cock smacks against your clothed stomach, making Jason’s mouth water. Thick veins throbbed on your big shaft, the tip angry and red from arousal leaking precum. It wasn’t just big, it was long, and Jason squeezes his thighs together to keep himself from just riding your cock all day.

His hand wraps around the base, starting to stroke it with a content rhythm. God, you were so fucking big. It’d definitely split him open if you shove it in so suddenly and fill him up nice. It’d make him scream his head off from the unbearable length and girth, almost too much, and Jason wants you to force him to take it. Pin him down and fuck him despite his pleas to stop.

Jason swipes his thumb over the slit, smearing precum, pumping it for a good amount before licking a stripe up the underside of your cock. You shudder, removing your gloves to slip your bare fingers through Jason’s hair, encouraging him to take you in. He obeys, relaxing his throat first before sliding your cock inside his warm mouth, and you groaned at the warmth that surrounded you. It almost didn’t fit from how big you were, but Jason braced himself and took it in further until he gagged as the tip touched the back of his throat. Wrapping his hand around your shaft that he couldn’t take in, stroking gently as if to apologize.

A moan slips past your lips when he starts bobbing his head, tongue brushing against the underside of your dick. “Fuck… Doin’ so good,” You roll your head back. “Such a pretty face to fuck, ain’t ya?”

Jason whines, tears gathered in his eyes as he sucks and fastens his rhythm. Curses, grunts leave your lips that left him feeling all hot and bothered, his other hand moving to skillfully pull his pants down and free his aching cock.

You see him touching himself and a smirk adorns your sinful face, gently scratching his scalp with your nails which earned you a whimper from him. “Go on, fuck yourself. We both know it wouldn’t fit that easily without proper prep,” Expression twisting into a cocky one, your grip on his hair tightened. “I’ll do as I please with your mouth until you’re done.”

Without waiting for his approval, you roughly shoved your cock deep down his throat and moaned loudly, throwing your head back. Jason gagged with a loud whimper as his eyes rolled back into his skull and cum shot out from his throbbing cock, hips jutting forward and twitching due to the sudden orgasm. You chuckle lowly, amusement and lust glinting in your bright red eyes, before you pull back and ram on his throat again.

Jason’s cries and moans were muffled as you ruthlessly use his throat to gain pleasure. His mind has already turned into mush from your assaults, white cum and precum staining the floor yet he doesn’t put up a fight. Taking it all like the good, obedient boy that he is. He’s reached behind him to insert two fingers in his awaiting hole, walls clamping down on the digits from the arousal of his throat being utterly wrecked.

Yesyesyes, please. He chanted in his mind. Use me, mark me, cum in my throat, make me yours.

The moment you fulfilled your promise and delivered him the head of his enemy, he was already yours. It’s all he ever wanted. Unquenchable thirst that always gnawed on his throat and hunger that left his stomach restless, his soul practically teared in half from being battered and beaten. He matters now — mattered enough to you, that you went ahead and killed the source of his misery. The love exploding in his chest was almost unbearable; he was already high on cloud nine from the moment he’s seen you present the head so cheerfully.

You see how he looks up at you, emerald eyes almost displaying hearts with how much he was melting. He’s taken your murderous act as an affection, and you couldn’t be more happy, because it’s what you intended.

“Shit, baby… Gonna cum soon,” You panted, thrusting vigorously. Jason hums and flexes his throat to provide you more pleasure, making you tighten the grip on his hair. “You want me to cum down your throat?”

You earned a desperate whine from him, closing his eyes to prove he was waiting for it. His fingers kept their own assault on his prostate, scissoring and stretching the squishy walls, muffled moans escaping him.

God, he looked so fucking gorgeous. He’d look even more gorgeous with your dick ramming inside him.

Jason feels your big cock throb in his mouth and his fingers move more aggressively to pleasure himself, wanting to reach his high at the same time as you. Stimulating your tip with the back of his throat a few times, you moaned loudly with a curse when Jason slightly flicks his tongue over your sensitive underside, forcing an orgasm out of your body. White, thick, warm seeds spurt out from your slit to his awaiting throat as Jason whimpered in delight and shot another layer of cum on the wet stained floor, hips thrusting in the air.

He greedily swallows every drop that spilled down his mouth despite the euphoria making him feel dizzy as his body slightly trembles.

You chuckled, breathing heavily, pleased expression spread across your face. “Good boy. That was such a good throat-fuck.”

The raspy, sultry tone of your voice makes electricity and chills run through Jason’s spine as his walls clench down on his fingers, yearning to be filled. Jason certainly doesn’t have a womb — it’s anatomically impossible — yet he couldn’t help but feel like it’s there, waiting and aching to be fucked and bred. He needs your cum to be pushed so far inside him. Need to be marked entirely as yours inside and out. Need you to rearrange his guts, fuck his brains out, breed him full, then fuck your cum further back into him.

Jason pulled his fingers out, whimpering at the loss of contact, before looking back up at you with begging eyes. “Can you-?” His voice cracks as he swallows, “Take me apart, please. Make me yours, fuck, I wanna be yours.”

You noticed tears gathering in his eyes, as if being rejected of his want to be your possession would be an ultimate heartbreak in his life; a life-threatening, gnawing thorn in his heart that’ll tear him apart piece by piece and shredding his soul. Jason thinks he can’t live without becoming yours, his savior’s. He can’t live without the source of his safety, the man that fulfilled his silly little dream and sacrificed his own sanity for it.

It absolutely amuses you that he’s become so attached just because you’ve driven him away from harm’s way. A little dumb, but he was your little dumb doll.

You gently caress his face and Jason leans into your touch, making your lips curl upwards into a smile. “Of course, doll.”

It leads to Jason being pressed face first on the mattress as you rail him from behind, sinful and alluring noises leaving his lips stained in drool. Your name escapes him like a chanted prayer, hands gripping the sheets, electricity sparking within his mind that left him dumb and unable to think coherently.

“Fuh-fuck! mgh, ah- yes, oh my god—!” He cries out when you pulled almost entirely back and rammed your cock roughly into him, almost seeing stars in his vision.

The roughness in which you handled him, the perfect angle of your hips allowing you to force pleasure out of his body every-time you thrust, the way you push his back down on the mattress to make him arch more into your merciless tactic, leaves Jason absolutely delirious. You didn’t just fuck him good; you fucked him with absolute vigor and violence, occasionally biting strongly on his shoulder to draw blood, showcasing your natural instincts as a serial killer. He feels your big fucking dick throb and gets impossibly bigger inside him each time his blood seeps out the broken skin, and Jason’s head spins at how much it drove arousal in his core.

“Good fuckin’ sex toy,” You grunted, roughly slamming your hips against his and causing a sharp moan to erupt from Jason.

“B-big—! s’too big- fuck!” Jason whines, tears spilling endlessly down his cheeks.

You smirk as you feel your ego skyrocket at being able to reduce a rather muscular man into nothing but a whining, blabbering bitch. “Yeah? I do split you open, don’t I? But you love it since you’re such a fuckin’ slut.”

“oh- aghn! y-yours— hnngh! Your s-slut! No one else’s-!” He chokes out, desperately reaching for you behind him.

“So fuckin’ adorable,” You chuckled and grabbed his hand, pinning it back to the mattress as you hover over him. You seem to fit against each other perfectly well, your large and tall body able to encage him that left Jason’s stomach fluttering. He’s taken a lot liking of the fact you’re bigger than him, considering he’s never been the smaller one when he was with others. It gives him a sense of shelter.

“p-please— pleaseplease- oh! cum— fuck… cum in me again!” Jason blabbered.

You can’t help but comply to his request, fastening your pace and drilling more into him. Incoherent sentences spill from his drooling mouth when he feels your cock pulse within his walls that signified your soon release. There’s a purpose in which you thrust your hips now — more sharp and angled yet a little sloppy, aimed to brush against his prostate and make him feel utterly good.

“Shit… Cummin’, doll.” You grunted right in his ear before shoving him on the mattress by the back of his nape and slamming all the way down on his already gaping hole.

Jason nearly screams, voice cracking, as his orgasm hits like a strong tide of wave at the same time you spilled thick layer of white semen into his fucked out guts. You ride out your orgasm by thrusting slowly a few times as Jason’s body violently shakes from the aftershock. He subconsciously whines in annoyance when some of your previous cum seems to overflow and replaced by your recent one, bucking his hips as if to use your big cock as a plug to keep them all in. His belly felt full from how much you’ve been filling him with your seed yet it still didn’t feel enough. Jason wanted more; he knew you weren’t going full on him yet.

You swiftly turned him around on his back without pulling out and kissed him roughly. Jason mewls into the kiss when the position makes you push more deeper into him, his hands immediately clasping at the back of his thick thighs to pull them up and make it easier for you to fuck.

“My cute little thing,” You murmured against his lips and bit the skin to draw blood, Jason’s hole squeezing down on you from both the pain and pet name. He greedily whimpers your name, holding onto you for life and yearning for more of you despite already receiving what he wants.

It was so fucking adorable and arousing to see him desperate for not just you, but your entire being as well, willing to welcome such darkness with open arms and tearful smile. You weren’t really a desirable person; so many people have thrown themselves at you for your conventionally attractive features and masculine body type that swoons hundreds yet cower away in fear and speak of you in disgrace when shown the demons living inside of you. No one could seem to look past your murderous, cold-blooded psychopathy — some have attempted to, which only resulted in your darkness growing bigger when they break their own promises. You weren’t meant to be loved. Your destiny was written in the stars and the Gods have cursed you with eternity of living in loneliness and madness without cure. You were meant to be feared, a lonely and violent soul that couldn’t be tamed, your sole purpose of existence being a destroyer; nothing more or less.

Jason, however, seems indifferent to your fate.

Instead of running away in disgust and fear at your acts of violence around the city, he was seeking for you. He’s seen what you’ve done, what you could do without feeling remorse, what monsters lie beneath your existence — and still, he graciously opens his heart (and legs) for you. There’s love and desire within his eyes where distaste should be, touch so soft and warm it baptizes your tainted skin. You’re soaked in blood yet Jason takes his time with you to clean them up. Born with thorns yet he willingly prickles his fingers on them.

You’re a danger everywhere you go, but to him, you were home.

It makes your heart clench; he’s broken the Gods curse and it costs him his freedom, because now he’s caught up in your webs. You wouldn’t let him go, like a snake that’s wrapped itself around its prey in a death grip.

Jason wanted to be yours. What better ways to fulfill his wish if not possessing his body, soul, and spirit?

“Sweet dumb thing,” You purred, hips thrusting slow and sensual, unable to forgive parts of his walls that weren’t touched by your cum. “Mine to fuck, ruin, or make love to. That’s right, yeah?”

Jason nods, moaning softly. Your hands now replaced where his were on the back of his thighs, bending him almost in half as you roll your hips to gently brush against every weak spot he has. The sudden shift in rhythm and atmosphere confuses Jason for a bit, his fogged mind unable to comprehend the situation at hand, but the intimacy strikes a further pleasure that was nearly mind-breaking. He’s been reduced to a moaning mess, blood, sweat, tears and cum coating his body.

“p-please,” Jason keened, like it felt agonizing to be loved ever so gently. “I— ah… I want- I want you,” He stuttered out between moans.

“You’re having me, aren’t you?” Replying, you nipped on his neck and sucked, leaving behind a purple bruise.

He nearly cries, shaking his head. A waterfall of tears streamed down his face, and you find yourself captivated by them. It was almost ethereal despite being one of human’s responses to most things imaginable; your victims always shed one or two accompanied by begs of mercy, but all you’ve ever thought of them was amusing. It’s been used as an escaping tactic from you before, which was never successful due to your lack of morality and sympathy towards your target. They were pathetic, but Jason was divine. Tears suited him— not tears of fear, but tears of pleasure and utopia.

Your focus snaps back on reality when Jason suddenly pulled you down by the nape and bit down hard on your shoulder. A pleasured groan leaves your lips at the pain, hips bucking, making him whimper.

“Jason—”

“Please,” He cuts you off and finally murmurs; “Wanna f-feel how… mhm-! how you actually love…”

It strikes something in your core. Despite your perfect skills of hiding your true nature and never being caught, Jason saw it right through you, how you were holding yourself back for his sake. Quite ironic to witness a cold-blooded killer care for someone enough to go soft, even though it looked like you were going rough on him, and it warmed Jason’s heart. But he was a greedy, fucked up human being who wanted all of you. It wouldn’t be enough until he knows he’s taken you fully.

An amused laughter erupts from your chest. Eyes darkening in lust, Jason feels one of your hands wrap around his throat warningly as the other pushed his torso flat down on the mattress. “You… You’ll be the fuckin’ death of me, Todd.”

You pull all the way back before ramming in, making Jason let out a loud, choked up moan as his eyes rolled back into his head. Your thrusts relentless and powerful, slamming against Jason’s body with an intensity that made his head spin, your hand holding his throat as a leverage. Your name spills from his lips like a prayer, something that seems to ignite a possessive feeling within you. Jason can’t help but mewl when your grip tightened on his arteries, throwing his head back to let you gain fully control.

The way he’s so obedient and putty in your hands despite knowing you can kill him if you truly meant to makes you love him even more, fucking him and taking away his ability to breathe wasn’t enough. Greediness turning overboard with the darkness and psychopathy that lies within your existence; you almost wanted to cut him open and crawl inside his guts so you could truly claim Jason, inside and out. You wanted to be more closer to him, see how far you can go without Jason pushing you away or getting disturbed.

Jason’s eyes widened when a cold metallic silver touched his cheek, seeing you holding your signature knife through blurred vision from his tears. However, he doesn’t flinch away like you expected him to, instead his walls squeezes down on your cock and his own twitched against his stomach. The unexpected reaction pulls a loud groan out of you, your hips bucking.

“Shit, Jay… You lettin’ me kill you or somethin’? Good fucking cunt just tightened on me,” You rasped, thrusting your cock against his prostate.

Jason gasps, his hands grabbing the mattress and holding it in a tight grip. It’s so shameful how turned on he was at the danger that lurked around you, his usually sharp instincts relinquished to be replaced by naiveté and stupidity for love. He must’ve gone insane; getting killed was one of his triggers because of his past yet his soul yielded nothing in retaliation to the possibility of your blade slicing through him. All of him seems to have come to love and trust you too much just because you’ve decapitated the beast his entire existence feared, which a part of him found utterly ridiculous and idiotic, but not enough to stop.

He wouldn’t stop himself from loving you — not when you’ve given him the love he always yearned for.

You lean in and ghost your lips over his as you dragged the knife on his torso, lightly scraping him. Jason’s breath quickens, his pupils blown wide in lust and need, anticipation seemingly running through his body as his moans turned into desperate whines.

“p-please…!” He chokes out a whisper, rolling his head to the side and whimpering when you snapped your hips warningly on his. “feels— fuck! feels g-good—! c-carve me… hngh! carve me u-up-! shit… make me fuckin’ bleed…! please,” Jason nearly cries for you.

Groaning out a curse, you reflexively bite down hard on the crook of his neck and push more of your cock inside him, causing a loud keen to erupt from Jason as he squirms and cums on his own stomach at the addictive sense of pleasure and pain shooting through his body.

You licked the blood that seeped out from his skin, satisfied at the clear bite mark you’ve left visible before sensually grinding your hips. Jason whimpered quietly, his body still trembling from the aftershocks of his orgasm.

“That’s it, doll. Let go, feel good. m’not gonna hurt ya, sweetheart. It’ll all feel good,” Whispering sweet words, you slowly press the tip of the knife just above the v line of his hip and drag it down. Jason hissed at the prickle of pain and tensed up, but the pleasure of your cock stimulating his sensitive walls was too great that forced him to relax. “It’s alright, doll. Jus’ carving you up with my name, so you’ll be mine forever. Isn’t that what you want? Be fuckin’ mine?”

Jason moaned softly, nodding his head. Series of pleasepleaseplease blabber out of him accompanied by heavenly noises he’s been making since you started taking him apart, his brain too fucked out that forcibly twisted pain into pleasure as all he could think about was becoming yours. You, his savior, his God, claiming him by marking him up with your name. Jason feels like he could fucking squirt from just that thought alone.

His blood seeping out from the letters of your name arouses you to no end, your cock throbbing inside him while you continue to move, the darkness within you being thoroughly fed of its bloodthirsty hunger. This is the first time it doesn’t gnaw at your skin to drive your knife deeper, pull the guts out, and splatter redness everywhere; instead, it wanted to be gentle, as if Jason was a significant existence too precious to hurt even for the Devil. A proof that Jason was always meant to be yours, the only one who the monster inside you would rather love than kill.

Carving the last letter, you laughed breathlessly in satisfaction and stabbed the knife on the headboard before slamming your lips against his, devouring his pleasurable noises. Jason whines, arms wrapping around your neck to pull you impossibly closer, arching his back when you switched into a much faster and rougher pace.

“Cummin’, fuck!” You grunted, to which Jason wrapped his legs around your hips to make sure it stays in.

“I-in— in me… fuck- oh my god— please… please, cum in me. Make me full again, p-please…” He begs, clenching his walls around you to push you over the edge, his own orgasm nearing.

Seeing him covered in his own tears, sweat, blood and drool fills you with nothing but pure ecstasy knowing it’s all because of you. The most appealing, ravishing man being a slutty mess right beneath you, begging to be bred and full of your cum, does feed too much into your ego. No one can do anything to take you away from him now, because you’re wrapped around his fingers as much as he is around yours.

“Anythin’ for ya, doll.” You chuckled, thrusting a couple more times before shoving your twitching cock deep into his guts with a moan and releasing your load. Jason mewls, his hole throbbing and squeezing down on you as he throws his head back, tainting his abdomen once more.

Riding out both of your highs, you let out a raspy groan and kissed his lips again, Jason weakly reciprocating due to the overstimulation. His body trembled hard, mind almost shutting down from the exhaustion and too much euphoria. “So good, doll. Took me like a good fuckin’ boy. Fuckin’ amazing.” You praised.

Jason could still see darkness in your eyes, the murderous devil, but there’s a hint of happiness he didn’t recognize before. Love and adoration filled your expression despite the violence engraved in your soul, and Jason finds himself smiling against your lips lightheadedly.

He whispers your name like a forbidden secret, then a curse that completely binds you to him; “I love you.”

You could get used to this, you suppose. There’s nothing more poetic than violence meeting love — two opposites can’t coexist with each other, but perhaps it’ll be forced to. After all, the Devil in you decided he was an untouchable divinity no one shall ever harm, not even yourself, despite its never-ending monstrosity towards humanity.

“I love you too, my Jason.”

When Joker’s decapitated head on a makeshift spear turned up that night, stacked upright in front of Arkham Asylum with blood splattered across the ground in words ‘True Justice for the Tortured Souls’ and a bloody ghostface mask laid aside for everyone else to see, Jason knew he was now in safe hands.

People say, never make a deal with the devil.

They never said he couldn’t love one, did they?

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darkness-in-the-face-of-the-deep · 1 month ago

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I think my sketchbook is slowly turning into the circus, with all this sketches of Berial. just Berial, hurt Berial, human(?) Berial, adult-looking Berial...

My mind is stuck, so maybe if post this, I'll be able to draw something else..?

+some fic (?) with Berial and Reinier

Он едва помнит почему вообще согласился на это.

Что-то ломало их всех изнутри - и Бериал мог бесконечно делать вид, что все замечательно, потрясающе, великолепно! Поклон в сторону публики! Занавес опускается, ноги подкашиваются. Потому что все не замечательно. После освобождения ему почти сразу пришлось бежать. Все совершенно точно не потрясающе. Сил едва хватает на перемещение и шейпшифт - к счастью, эти способности его основные. И как кто-то мог сказать, что хоть что-то великолепно?! Он проигрывает. Фресто тоже проигрывает. Занавес едва не падает под собственным весом вместе с балкой. Бериал не хочет думать, он прекрасно понимает, что плох в этом, но больше некому. Некому? Видимо нет. Он почти слышит гомон зрителей, в замешательстве наблюдающих за пустой сценой, но не в силах встать. Театр без актёров. Кто-то должен объявить антракт, но кроме него здесь никого больше нет.

Остальные же не обращают внимания - никогда не обращали. Бериал цепляется за театр - пока может, пока не сломался окончательно. Он не уверен, что понимает что делает, но по крайней мере это его личный выбор. Некоторые из них не находят точку опоры и поддаются, и ломаются под натиском. Становятся ничуть не разумнее бесов. Те же, кто нашёл... одержимы.

Его даже нет необходимости привязывать, нет-нет, Бериал знает когда нужно сохранять неподвижность. Он не любит этого, терпеть не может, почти ненавидит! Конечно. Но знает.

Сейчас это необходимо. Чужие радость и удовольствие - неплохие подпитки его сил. Но кто оценит сейчас выступление клоуна, когда селестиалы растрепали всем, что он демон? У кого-то совершенно нет чувства юмора.

Как нет его и у склонишвимся над его телом другим демоном. Но по крайней мере здесь можно сыграть по-другому. К бесконечному удивлению как Рейнйера, так и самого Бериала - тело шута мучительно человеческое, даже если забыть про отсутствие шеи и дополнительные конечности. А значит - такое же несовершенное и несимметричное. Бельмо на глазу для кого-то, кто одержим порядком.

Бериал старается не ёрзать, почти впивается когтями в стол, но так и не прорывает перчатки - к счастью. Рейнйер позволил их оставить, как и туфли. Остальная одежда - чудесный шутовской наряд! - аккуратно сложена рядом. Голова лежит отдельно, наблюдая со стороны - чтобы не мешать. О, Бериал не собирался! Он не двигается, но одновременно с этим не говорить уже выше его сил.

— Рей.

Четырехрукий демон не реагирует. Он занят. Он копается где-то во внутренностях Бериала, и отсюда ничего не видно, но шут чувствует каждое движение.

— Рей! — тело едва не выгибается навстречу когтистым пальцам. Ему даже не нужны эти органы для существования, но почему оно так...

— Прекрати сокращать моё имя, — Рейнйер останавливается на мгновение. — Ты сказал, что ничего не почувствуешь, прекрати ёрзать. И болтать. Ты меня отвлекаешь.

Бериал хрипит, почти воет.

— Я сказал, — бубенчики на туфлях звенят, когда он дёргает ногами, — что это не причинит мне вреда. Про ощущения вообще ни слова не было!

От Рейнйера слышится только задумчивый звук и он снова погружает ладони внутрь. Бериал вздрагивает.

— Тебе больно? — ни капли сочувствия, немного раздражения, пополам с нетерпением.

— Нет. У тебя руки холодные.

И это правда. Зима еще не кончилась, воз��ух буквально - ледяной и лежать при таком холоде вскрытым действительно очень холодно. Да и стол под ним проморожен, ну вот как такой аккуратист как Рейнйер не озаботился что-то подстелить? Хотя может быть он собирается потом этот стол сжечь. Бериал бы так и сделал.

Какое-то время демоны молчат. Оба заняты: Рейнйер наводит свой собственный порядок среди органов Бериала, а сам шут слишком сосредоточен на том, чтобы не шевелиться. Задыхаясь, хотя ему и не нужно дышать. Почти плача, хотя он не чувствует боли. Ему не хочется лежать здесь и быть для кого-то одновременно игрушкой и подопытным. Но думать и так тяжело, и он не справится с очередным заданием, если останется бессильным. Ему хочется к людям. Ну и что, если большинство его боятся? Всегда найдётся парочка тех, кто оценит его представление - а что еще нужно шуту? Надень маску, притворись кем-то другим, но для этого нужна сила. Разлом измотал его сильнее, чем казалось. Хочется закрыть глаза и уснуть, пока он здесь. Он почти поддается.

Это всегда на краю сознания, сводит с ума, кружит в бесконечном танце, пытается сбить с ног. Он вливается в ритм. Слышит грохот падающих тел. Слышит их крики. Старается не споткнуться. Не упасть в след за ними, не пасть от их рук.

Словно пропасть под ногами, а он разучился летать - даже крылья не держат в воздухе. Земля крошится, ветер гонит к краю. Он почти шагает, но представление не окончено, зрители все еще ждут продолжения. Зрители ждут клоуна Бериала.

Он устал возвращаться к ним.

Что-то сшивает его обратно. Лежащая на груди ладонь на этот раз почти горячая от чужого удовлетворения.

— Я закончил.

Да, он может это чувствовать. Это парализует даже сильнее, чем усталость.

— Бериал?

Бериал не может сосредоточиться, не может шевельнуться, почти не может говорить - прибивающиеся блики солнца ослепляют его, хотя всего минуту назад...

— Голову, — сипит он. — Поставь мою голову обратно.

Он надеется, что это поможет. Но, кажется, нет. Потолок деревянный, заиндевевший, прогнивший. Еще немного - и рухнет на голову. Им обоим, прямо как занавес с балкой. Бериал хихикает, не в силах сдержаться. И получает пощёчину.

— Ты. Идиотский шут.

Боли как таковой нет, но ��незапно это помогает. По большей части. Комната все еще нечеткая, но по крайней мере Бериал может сосредоточиться. Лучше бы не мог.

— Ауч, — тянет он преувеличено жалобно. Ну идиотский и идиотский, что поделать то.

Вслух такого не скажешь, конечно. У Рейнйера хотя и нет лица, распознать его раздражение довольно легко. Может это была и не очень хорошая идея с самого начала — оставаться беспомощным рядом с чужаком. Но что еще ему оставалось?

— И для чего это представление? — Скорее для кого. Для несуществующей публики. Ожидающей в нетерпении поднятия занавеса. Сможет ли он сейчас подняться для них? И для существующей тоже, конечно. — Тебе не нужно изображать боль, чтобы привлечь моё внимание.

Бериал ухмыляется, насколько его вечно улыбающееся лицо может ему это позволить.

Антракт окончен. Зрители аплодируют, приветствуя шута.

Когти Рейнйера все еще липкие от крови. Солнце пробивается сквозь трещины, но даже и не думает греть. Бериалу почти что жарко.

Театр абсурда.

Что может быть лучше?

#afk journey #afk berial #drawing practice #traditional art #sketch #drawing wings still is a torture #but I love Berial's wings so much

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valentina-writes · 1 month ago

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The Distance He Keeps - Part 2

Azriel x Reader

summary: Finally, you confront Azriel about why he is avoiding you. Later, you find yourself inside his mind, revealing a deep secret about your relationship (I'm really bad at summaries, it's been so long ugh)

warnings: drinking, slight hurt/no comfort, suicidal thoughts if you squint, swearing

word count: 3.4k | part 1 | part 3 | masterlist

A/N: I'm honestly so incredibly happy that so many of you liked the first part! Now, I love men who have the ability to just shut tf up, but Az brings this to a whole other level. So... uhm prepare for some frustration. I promise, he's not an asshole, just incredibly tortured. Anyways, I hope you like it and come back soon for part 3! xx

There was something drawing me towards the roof. A silent calling, a sixth sense attuned to him. Like the air was vibrating softly, showing me his direction. It had been a week since the dinner, since I had last seen him. But still, I was sure that this was new. Maybe I was going insane. It wouldn't surprise me.

I stepped outside onto the small roof terrace. It was near midnight, the sky above Night Court seemingly endless. Millions of stars twinkled down on me; I would never quite get used to the beauty of the nights here. A cool summer breeze hit me and the humming of Velaris reached my ears, the sounds of countless people moving through the streets. But I hardly noticed any of that.

Because there, sitting on one of the two chairs that barely fit on the tiny terrace, was Azriel. His shoulders were tense, his wings half unfolded as if he was about to lurch out of his seat and into the night. His shadows stayed close to him, as if they were trying to guard him. Aloofness was not rare to him, but vigilance like this, I had never seen on him at home.

How do I start? I asked myself. What do I even say? ‘Hey, you’ve been ignoring me and I miss you and I’m in love with you, please come back and stop this bullshit’? How pathetic. I had no plan. The past nights, I had tossed and turned in my bed, imagining our encounter. The only conclusion I had come to was that whatever I’d say, it couldn’t possibly get any worse. Hopefully.

"Don't mind me, I'm leaving in a second", he spoke out, still not turning around. His posture stayed rigid. There was no other indication of him noticing your presence.

Without thinking, I countered: "Oh, so now you're speaking again?". Azriel’s neck tensed. That came out a little meaner than anticipated.

He sighed. "Maybe".

I took the few steps to the other chair and slid into it. Hesitantly, I turned my head towards him. He still wouldn't meet my eyes. Azriel looked tired, his eyes half closed with bags underneath them. His long fingers were clenched around the armrests of his chair. It was evident that he was severely unwell. How long had this been going on for? Maybe I should have pressed harder when he started ignoring me, I realized, and not folded in on myself.

For a while, we sat in silence while I studied him. Then I couldn't bear it anymore. I swallowed the anxiety that had welled up inside me for weeks, tried to calm my flaying nerves. "What is going on, Az, are you okay? Please, we can talk about whatever happened. I miss you”, I pleaded, the last words only a whisper. I quickly shut my mouth before more words could escape my lips. Come back, I thought, come back to me.

The muscles in his jaw tensed and he dropped his head into his hands. "Don't say that. Don't make it harder than it already is".

Desperation grew inside of me. Even if he did not love me back, I would not bury our friendship without at least putting up a fight. “We can work it out. Whatever it is, we can face it together”.

His face twisted in a pained expression. “Cauldron boil me, I wish it were that easy”

"Is this about starfall?", I asked. Finally, our gazes met. Azriel looked defeated. "So it is?". He didn't deny it, so I assumed I was correct. "You're embarrassed at what happend, or what? Do you want to take back what you did and said? Is it because you're scared?". The shadows drew in closer around him, pooling around his chest and neck, as if to guard him.

His voice was agonized when he replied: "You don't understand. You just don't understand and I can't even be mad at you. But I can't be around you like this". Azriel had always been a man of few words, but frustration hit you hard. Why couldn't he give you at least some insight? "Then fucking explain it to me, Az! I can't take this anymore."

There was no hesitation in his voice this time. "Maybe I shouldn't have kissed you."

This felt like a blow to my stomach. All air was knocked right out of me. This day was the happiest I had been in years. I thought about it before falling asleep, in the bathtub and over breakfast. Again and again, I replayed this moment to make sure I hadn't made it up, to hold onto it. And now he was destroying it, crushing it, with a single sentence. Tears welled up in my eyes and I fought to not let them roll.

I hated myself for the crack of my voice, when I asked: "Was it that horrible? Did I disgust you much that you can't even look at me anymore?". Even if he didn't love me -

"Don't you ever think about yourself like that", he practically growled, "you, out of all people, have no business believing that". He was angry now, as if he couldn't even understand how I could think that. His words confused me. One second he said he shouldn't have kissed me and now this?

"Then what is it, Az? What happened to 'I will always find you'? Talk to me please. Make me understand", I begged. My hand reached out to thread through his fingers, but he escaped my grasp, stood up and leaned against the terrace fence.

There was a long pause. I almost thought he wouldn't answer. Then, quietly, almost desparately: "Can't you feel it?"

What did he mean? Why did he always have to be so cryptic? "I feel that you're drifting away from me and I can't get ahold of you. LIke I'm reaching out and begging and with every try, you float further away".

His hands gripped the banister so tightly his knuckles turned white and a sad smile crossed his face. "That's how I feel about you as well."

"What did I do wrong? Please. I'm right here, you're not losing me". I would plead on my knees before letting go. There was nothing I wouldn't do to get him back. Even if he regretted the kiss, I would not lose my best friend. My better half.

When he glanced back at me, the look in his eyes broke me. The spark in them was gone, the glint I had come to love dimmed. "You didn't do anything wrong. It's not your fault". The sadness seeped out of him, his shadows now concealing almost every part of him, except for his face. I had never seen him like this. "Please, give me some space. I - I'll tell you. Just this once, please". Without waiting for my answer, he jumped over the low fencing around the rooftop terrace and flew into the night. And left me alone with my thoughts. Only then did my tears start to run.

How did it go?

Fuck off, Rhysand

I woke up in the middle of the night, my throat dry, my heart hammering.

"Well, what the fuck am I supposed to do?"

The words that left my mouth weren't my own. Neither was my voice. What was going on? I still felt half asleep.

"I thought Y/N would figure it out herself. It was so painfully obvious in her memories, but she just didn't connect the dots. Pretty ironic considering her job". I couldn't focus on my surroundings, still only half conscious. All I could register were the big violet eyes staring at me.

Anger flared up at the other person's words, but it wasn't mine. I could feel it, but it was somehow...foreign. Rhys was talking to me, I realized. But it wasn't me, really. The body I was in was taller, the angle I saw everything from was wrong. And the hands that were brought up to sweep the stray hairs out of my eyes were tan, scarred and surrounded by shadows. I was inside Azriel's mind. Suddenly, I was wide awake. Why was I here? How did I even get into this situation?

"What was she thinking about?", Azriel asked. Rhysand gave me - no - Azriel a long look. Azriel was back at the townhouse and they were speaking about my previous talk with Rhys, it seemed. Curiosity took over the confusion within me. I longed to know what Azriel would say about me. Would he tell Rhys the reason for his behavior?

"I think you know. I'm not telling you. She screamed bloody murder at me that I had violated her thoughts like that". Disappointment lapped at me from within him. But there was something else entirely, too. Affection. Concern.

There was a long pause. Azriel started pacing the room. "You could make her some food", Rhys offered, "That should clear it up. Apart from the rather obvious method". Az' wings rustled behind him. He was uncomfortable. Blurry images of our entwined bodies came into his mind. They came and went fast, he quickly shoved each one away behind thick barriers. What did that mean?

"I'm not going to force her like that. She should decide for herself. And the "obvious method" as you called it, is not really an option to me right now". An image of me, naked in his bed blazed through his mental shields. By the Mother, what were they talking about? He breathed in deeply and vanished this product of his imagination. I grew restless. Why was he thinking about me like this, when only a few hours ago he had made very clear that he didn't even want to think about the kiss? Did he lie to me?

Azriel started pacing. His mind was racing. Shards of conversations with me came flying from his thoughts into my own. Dozens of made-up scenarios of him iniciating conversations that ended with me rejecting him. Which was weird, because why would I-

Rhy interrupted my - our thoughts: "Can you feel her? As her mate you should be able to have some insight into her mind".

All thoughts left my mind. Mate mate mate mate mate mate mate echoed through me. Azriel was my mate. My whole worldview shifted as I thought about our last conversation. Why didn't he just tell me? Somewhere far away from here I felt the blood rushing through my veins, my heart hammering against my ribcage. Mate.

"Not really, so far. Every now and then I can feel something, but hearing her thoughts or even seeing them... that only happened once". I longed to see what he had seen, but he had regained his composure. There was nothing slipping past his wards. A million questions raced through my head. Why couldn't I feel the bond? And since when did he know about this?

"Can I have a look? Maybe I can feel around and find out what the problem is", Rhys offered.

I felt him before I could withdraw from Azriel's mind. I didn't even know how to withdraw. Where was the path back to myself? Where did Azriel end and I begin? How had I even ended up here? I didn't know.

Soft claws stroked my consciousness - no, Azriel's. It felt nearly the same. Rhys dived into Azriel's brain, pulling me down into his thoughts with him, and sifted through memories, feelings, everything Az would let him see. Big parts of his brain were walled in, impenetrable.

Something here is different. He carefully dove through Az' brain and before I knew it, his invisible claws were stroking at my own walls. Interesting. Until he found what he was looking for. A tiny, softly glowing, thread, bound tightly to my thoughts, winding straight into the heart of Azriel's sectioned-off memories.

Go back, and for Cauldron's sake, talk to him, Rhys purred at me.

Azriel POV

I would never get used to the feeling of my brother combing through my brain, even after over 600 years. He was gentle and respected the heavy wards I had built over time, protecting my most vulnerable memories. The size of the walled-in part had grown considerably over the past years. But he was kind enough not to comment on that. Rhys moved along the outskirts of my brain until I could barely feel him anymore. But he was still there, somewhere. Somewhere... foreign. At the edges of my consciousness, a claw hit heavy walls. Walls that weren't my own. And then: a claw lightly stroking a thread that was welded to the essence of my being. A mating bond. Thin and fickle, not yet accepted. But it was there. And that meant that on the other side, behind thick walls... was her.

"Did you feel that?", Rhys asked after he withdrew from my mind. My shadows swirled around me, as if they had sensed something as well. They seemed elated, tugging at my hands and wings to get me moving.

"Yes", I breathed out, "thank you ". The smallest spark of hope ignited within me. I quickly shut it down. If it hadn't snapped for her yet, who was to say it ever would?

"The bond is most definitely not one-sided", Rhys explained, "I could feel her on the other side, but it has not fully snapped. Maybe because you've known each other for so long. What happened after you kissed at starfall? Maybe it takes a little more... closure.", he winked, sporting a wicked grin.

A low growl escaped my lips. He had no business thinking about my mate like this. She was my mate. Mine. The half-finished bond inside me flared up at his words, roaring with anger over his insinuation. If he ever so much as thought of her like this again, I would-

"Easy, man. Remind me to grant you a long vacation after you mate fully. You’re in desperate need of a good fuck". I breathed in deeply, trying not to tackle him to the ground.

It took all of my willpower to stay calm. "Can I stay here tonight?". There was no way I could sleep next door to her tonight.

"Always".

I left him there, went to the room I sometimes shared with Cassian and dropped onto my bed. As I stared at the dark ceiling, my thoughts circled back to another night.

I was drunk off her. She was beautiful everyday, I could barely take my eyes off her when she wore pajamas at breakfast. But today was a wholly different calibre. The dress she was wearing perfectly accentuated her eyes, and the glitter in her hair made her sparkle like she was a star herself.

"I will find you, no matter where. I promise". The words left my lips before I could think them through. She was too close to me. I had one glass of wine too much. Or maybe I was just sick of pretending.

"And I will find you", she replied. Her lips were slightly opened, the look in her eyes so vulnerable. A mirror of my own feelings. My shadows tugged at my suit's lapels, their whispers in my ears were delighted. This was it, the moment I had been waiting on forever.

Without my doing, my wings unfolded around her, shielding us off from the world around us. A breath later we were outside on a vacant balcony.

My ringed fingers shook slightly as I brought them up to her cheeks, cradling her face. Starlight reflected in her beautiful eyes and I wished I could drown in them. Her hands drew me in closer, her eyes closed. "Az - I...", she whispered.

Before I knew it, my lips touched hers. They were velvet on mine. Her hands threaded into the hair at the nape of my neck and she arched upwards. The only thought on my mind was her name, repeating like a prayer, while my lips moved softly on hers. Slowly, savoring every second, I parted her lips with my tongue. The moment our tongues touched, it was like a spark had been ignited inside me. A white hot feeling rushed through my veins and reflexively I moaned into her and pulled her closer. It was like a supernova inside me. Like something that had been missing from me my entire life was crafted with enormous force. And then I felt her. Her desire and wanting crashed down on me, amplified my own. My mate.

My knees threatened to buckle and the shadows swirled around her in ecstasy, threading through her hair, touching her arms and face.

And then the kiss ended and reality came crushing down on me with a force that knocked the wind out of my lungs.

She looked happy. Nothing more. There was no sign that she felt what I felt. No recognition that the Cauldron hat just welded our souls together, fused our entire beings into one. All my hopes shattered. My insides turned to ice and for a split second I wished I were dead.

Internally, I tried to reach out to her and tug at the string binding us together. But it was too thin, too unstable. There was no way for me to get ahold of it. Everytime I reached for it, it slipped from my grasp. I drew her into a hug to keep from breaking apart. But it was of no use. My hands started shaking against her back and my breath caught in my throat. I needed to go.

I pressed a kiss onto her forehead, before I withdrew from her embrace. Mumbling an excuse I barely registered, I forced myself to turn around and leave. With every step I took, I could feel my soul shattering into more and more pieces. In my room, I ripped my suit jacket off and threw it in a corner, didn't even bother to unbutton my shirt and instead tore it in two and threw it right after the jacket. I could still taste and feel her on my lips. In hopes of ridding myself of it, I tried to wipe her off of them. My hands came back red with lipstick.

The bond, still fresh, pulsed inside me and I felt her everywhere. Hell, I saw her in her mirror, through her own eyes, pulling off her dress and getting ready for bed, only a door away. I felt how tired she was, how happy she was. How fucking unaware she was that she was now the center of my world.

My shadows escaped from me, slithered underneath the door. They were agitated, longing for her as much as I was. Now, I felt how they pooled against her door, begging to be let in. I had just enough power over them to stop them from rushing into her room.

There was only one thing that would help now. I dug through my dresser. Mindlessly, I threw everything in my way into a pile on the floor. Until I found what I was looking for. A sinfully expensive bottle of very strong alcohol Cass had gifted me for solstice. Without thinking, I uncorked the flask with my teeth and drank until I gasped for air. And then I drank again. Anything to dull the ache inside me. The ache for her. Until I wouldn’t care anymore.

What a fucking mess. She was one of the few truly good things in my life and now that had been stolen from me too. Sometimes I felt like my life was one big single joke. No matter what, I never got what I wanted. I longed and pleaded and burned, but not once had life been playing fair with me. Maybe that was my curse. To give and give and never get anything in return.

Somewhere in the back of my mind, I could hear the voice of my father, long gone. Did you really think you deserved her? You are nothing, boy. And I knew he was right. How blind I was to believe that I was good enough for her. How fucking naïve.

There was nothing I could do. The bond ached inside me, mocking me for my delusions. I laid down and hoped the world would go away.

series taglist: @tele86 @francesababyd0ll @rcarbo1 @willowpains @i-am--infinite @paintedbyshadows @mellowmusings @ashduv

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hannieween · 4 months ago

Text

hell bent | yoon jeonghan

› pairings: yoon jeonghan x female reader › aus: demon hunter jeonghan, supernatural au, demon reader › genres: angst, fluff, smut (18+) › word count: 12.7k

› 🎧: this man – jxw

› special thanks to @gyuswhore who helped me proofreading this 🩵

› this is part 4 of the curse - hannieween fest

› warnings after the cut! READ THEM CAREFULLY 🗣️

› warnings: hurt/comfort! major character death scene (it's not described in great detail), resurrection, grief, injury, blood, alcohol consumption, smut with plot, sex dreams, unprotected p in v, creampie and pull-out method, corruption kink, exhibitionism, love making, jeonghan is down bad, breeding kink, oral sex, pussy drunk jeonghan, buff jeonghan. pet names: baby (hers)

› disclaimer: minors dni this post is intended for 18+ readers. have your age stated in your description and try not to look like a bot please 🙂

hell bent

JEONGHAN SAT ON THE GROUND FOR WHAT FELT LIKE AN ETERNITY. He stared at the horizon until the darkness dissolved and the sun rose. The weight in his arms increased as the seconds went by until he grew numb and cold in the morning mist.

He blinked when the sunlight started to hurt his eyes. His throat was sore and dry from screaming, and his fists were bloody. But that did not matter. All that mattered was gone. He looked down where you lay motionless in his arms. Cold and bloody.

Hours had dragged on, and the time to move was drawing near. But he feared that if he moved, reality would set in. He cupped your cheek, kissing your forehead before pressing his own on yours, and waited. He waited for you to open your eyes, to feel your take in a breath.

It was over.

He got up, carrying your limp body in his arms. Once on his feet, the weight of your body caused a deep blow to his chest.

You laid on the backseat of his car as he drove aimlessly until he found a place deserted enough to hide. A place to bury your body.

The hole he dug in the ground was surrounded by trees, small patches of grass that grew small flowers attracting butterflies in, and in the distance, he could hear the chirping of birds. You looked peacefully asleep once he laid you there.

It was over. The torture was over. The pain, the suffering, all of that. And for a small moment, he thought you were smiling.

When Jeonghan stumbled upon the headquarters, he did not even bother knocking, because they saw his car parked on the driveway of the old manor.

Seungcheol opened the door, a bewildered look on his face, mouth parted, brows drawn inward. “What happened to you?” he asked, stepping aside to let Jeonghan in.

Jeonghan hugged his arm to his body. “Is Joshua here?” he asked instead, hurrying to the hospital wing of the manor.

“What’s happening?” Joshua raised his head, standing up from the desk pushed to the far end of the long room. His gaze fell on Jeonghan and got to work in an instant. “Sit,” he motioned to one of the beds.

Jeonghan obliged, letting out a pained groan as he sat down. “I need a favor,” he forced out, sitting still as Joshua grabbed a pair of scissors, cutting through Jeonghan’s zipper hoodie to reveal the deep cut from the shoulder to the elbow.

“Tell me what happened to you,” Joshua asked softly, it sounded like a routine question. But Jeonghan knew it was genuine curiosity. Joshua sat down on a stool beside the bed, examining all the damage done.

“Seungcheol,” Jeonghan muttered. “I need you to do something for me.”

Seungcheol stood before the bed, placing his hands on his hips. “I’m listening.”

Jeonghan took in a breath, mustering the courage to speak as pain throbbed inside him. “In the outskirts of Veridian Bay, some three kilometres south, are three dead hunters.”

“Shit,” he hissed. “Demons? Were you with them?”

Jeonghan shook his head, swallowing hard. “I killed them.”

Both Joshua and Seungcheol stopped dead in their tracks. Hunter deaths were common, and they were just reported, families were contacted in some cases. But most of the time, they went unnoticed. But hunters killing other hunters was something out of the ordinary.

“Jeonghan, what happened?” Joshua asked slowly and with a tone laced with concern.

Jeonghan shuddered, shaking his head again. “I can’t,” he choked out. “I just need that taken care of. I couldn’t go back to get them.”

Seungcheol ran a palm on his face, and Jeonghan knew he would not let this go easily. But he just nodded and turned around to strut out of the hospital wing. “Consider it done.”

Jeonghan and Joshua waited quietly, sitting very still until the loud noise of the front door slamming shut announced that they were alone. In the distance, the roar of Seungcheol’s bike echoed throughout the clear of the vicinity, growing more and more distant as he drove away.

Joshua continued working, cleaning the wound on Jeonghan’s arm, sending glances to his face to both measure how much painJeonghan was experiencing and to wait for him to talk.

“They killed her,” Jeonghan croaked, closing his eyes as a painful shudder swarmed inside him, threatening to break his mind.

“The hunters?” Joshua murmured.

“They came for her, I couldn’t do anything. She was gone before I could get to her,” he whispered, his face contorting in pain from the first puncturing of the needle stitching his skin back together, and the image of you lying on the ground.

“It has been months since we last talked, Jeonghan,” Joshua mentioned, carefully closing one stitch. “What changed?”

Jeonghan shook his head, refusing to open his eyes. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“Try me,” Joshua replied, his gentle tone easing some of the anxiousness in Jeonghan’s mind.

Jeonghan opened his eyes, finding his best friend sitting beside him. “Do you know anything about bonds?” he asked, waiting until Joshua nodded reluctantly. “Pacts, deals, promises… everything we were taught in training, you know that they are binding contracts with demons.”

Joshua frowned. “Did you make a pact with her?” he asked knowingly.

“Much worse,” Jeonghan replied, adding an empty smile that felt crazy to him. “She was bound to me and I to her since we were born.”

Joshua blinked a couple of times, tilting his head to one side and lowering his medical tools just a little. His gaze glided over the features of Jeonghan’s weary and dirty face, waiting for him to elaborate.

“You know,” Jeonghan asserted once his best friend remained quiet. “Did you know about this?”

Joshua sent his gaze upward, outlining the corners of the room pensively. “I’m never on the field, not like you and Seungcheol. I stay here, I patch all of you up and in the meantime, I hear the stories you bring from out there.”

“Please get to the point,” Jeonghan gritted, bracing himself for more physical pain as Joshua resumed stitching his arm up.

“I’ve heard stories, yeah,” Joshua mumbled, carefully adding another stitch. “When you told me about her, I just wondered about it. But you never showed up again, so I couldn’t tell you anything.”

Jeonghan sighed in resignation. “She is my soulmate,” he said, the word coming out with enough weight to make his heart protest in pain.

“How do you feel?” Joshua pulled back to take a surveying look.

“I buried her… She’s gone,” Jeonghan mumbled dejectedly, his gaze falling out of focus, lost in the distance. “She’s gone.”

The small patches of flowers surrounding the place where you lay, would they grow over you? Do you like flowers?

“Sounds like you cared about her,” Joshua whispered, finishing up the last stitch.

“Everything happened so fast,” Jeonghan went on, swallowing his tears. “I couldn’t get to her in time. I felt her pain. I felt the last beating of her heart.”

Joshua stopped, the pause was minimal, but it meant something. “You felt it?”

Jeonghan nodded in sharp, but tiny motions. “They tried to cut her wings,” he whispered in a near-crazed look flashing his eyes. Jeonghan was lost in the memory, trying to retrace every move he made upon finding you, but he could not remember what he did to those hunters.

“Jeonghan, what do you mean you felt it?” Joshua pressed, his tone more urgent and Jeonghan could tell that his friend was worried about him.

“The bond. We can sense each other through it,” he said, his voice breaking halfway through the sentence.

“But not anymore?” Joshua prodded, his tone gentle and cautious, fearing that his friend might be losing touch with reality.

“Not anymore,” Jeonghan breathed in, his chest stammering as he suppressed a sob, tears welling up in his eyes.

“And the bond?” Joshua lifted his gaze from the work he was doing, his tone rose in worry.

“It’s still there,” Jeonghan sniffled, crestfallen as tears rolled down his cheeks. “It’s still calling me to her, there’s just no receiving end.”

Joshua left his tools on the cart beside him, discarding the rags filthy with blood. He let out a heavy sigh, his shoulders going slack. “I’m so sorry for your loss,” he muttered, gently patting Jeonghan’s back, then bringing his hand to the back of his head, caressing as if to soothe him.

But there was nothing that could ever soothe Jeonghan’s pain. The emptiness inside him seemed to ache at its edges, his mind felt shaken with the reality he was thrust into. It seemed insane that it had been hours since he kissed you, eager with the prospect of starting fresh with you.

And now you were gone.

There was no point in cursing at life’s way to mock him anymore. Jeonghan thought this was the way he was paying for all the times he neglected you, all the times he hurt you. But the selfish part in him wished that life had given him the opportunity to say goodbye to you.

Jeonghan’s heart broke the night he lost you.

Despite everything that happened, he tried to move on. He convinced himself that life still went on and that you would have wanted him to move forward.

He kept your memory alive through small things. Some mornings he would go to a diner and order pancakes with syrup and bacon. When he was alone in his room, he would pretend you were there with him. He would imagine hearing your laugh, the small sounds you made when you slept.

It was the first month since you were gone. Jeonghan never had the opportunity to know what your favorite flowers were if you even liked receiving flowers. So he routinely left a different bouquet of flowers on the grave he made for you. He left lilies, the first time he went to visit you, one hand holding the bouquet, the other holding a bottle of rum.

He sat on the ground, leaning back against the trunk of a tree. The clear was quiet and dense with humidity, his senses stimulated by the smell of wet grass and dirt.

There was a peace that filled the emptiness inside him as he sat beside your grave. As though the bond could rest easy once he was there, even though there was no response from you.

Jeonghan grabbed the bottle with one hand around its neck and tipped a generous amount of rum in his mouth. Exhaling harshly, he wiped his chin with the back of his hand. “At least we have our answer, eh?” Jeonghan muttered glumly.

The next time he went there, some three weeks later, he brought you petunias. He thought that they would look good along with the wild chamomiles that were growing around you. This time he realized that he did not bring a bottle with him, and he did not need it. He just sat there, content with the peace that being near you brought him.

The third month you laid there, he brought you peonies. This time, he bought them with the memory of your glinting eyes the last and only time he saw you with joy and love glowing all around you.

He stood before the grave with his hands inside his pockets, looking at the ground adorned with flowers. “I don’t even know if you liked flowers,” he said, an empty smile curving his lips. “But I don’t know what else people leave on graves.”

With a tired sigh, he sat down on the ground, tucking his legs in a butterfly position. His fingers toyed with the grass growing in patches beneath him. The stillness of the clearing offered him the moment for reflection; he ventured again with questions about you. He never wondered about what the afterlife would look like, but sometimes he liked to think that there was some preternatural way you could listen to him.

“Shua saw me with flowers this morning,” he said, chuckling awkwardly. “He said nothing, just told me to come back before sundown. I think he’s known for a while that I come here to visit you.” He raised his gaze, finding the sunlight filtering through the thicket of the trees, bathing him. “He’s a good friend, I think you would like him.”

Jeonghan lowered his gaze to the flowers sitting on the ground. He propped one elbow on his knee, resting his chin on his fist. “I almost didn’t come here this time,” he muttered guiltily, filling his chest with air to try to push the ache inside him.

It was as though the mere thought of not coming here to visit you made the bond protest. When you were alive, it was the mad craving for you that did not allow him to stay away for long. Now, it was just a thing that pulsated inside him, calling for you.

He breathed in, filling his lungs with the humid air of the quiet forest, trying to gulp down the knot coiling around his throat. “I miss you,” he whispered to the ground, his eyes brimming with hot tears. “I wish I could go back and do things differently with you… I wish I hadn’t been so stupid.”

He stood up, dusting the dirt from his hands while contemplating whether he wanted to say goodbye to you or not. Instead, he turned and walked away from the clear, enjoying the chirping of the birds keeping you company as he returned home.

Jeonghan returned to the manor, where he had been living since that night. The smell of food distracted him before he went to his designated room, so he just walked to the kitchen, finding Joshua busy preparing dinner.

“You’re back,” Joshua muttered gently, but the look he sent was weary. “I thought you’d be gone for longer.”

“There was not much to do,” he muttered offhandedly.

Joshua set a plate on the small dining table motioning to Jeonghan to the chair. “That’s for you,” he said.

“Thanks,” Jeonghan replied, sitting down with a tired groan. He kept an eye on his friend, pacing around the kitchen of the old manor. “What’s up with you?”

“Just thinking,” Joshua muttered, serving a plate for himself, and sat down in front of Jeonghan, occupying a space on the table too. “Ever tried summoning her?”

Jeonghan’s eyes went wide, his heart stammering for a split second. “What?” he choked out.

Joshua took the fork into his mouth and nodded, munching his food with ease, as though he was having the most normal conversation on the planet. “Have you ever tried summoning her?” he repeated slowly.

“No,” he replied, his tone coming out like a question.

“Mmm, I see,” he said, taking his cup to drink with long and generous gulps.

“Why?” Jeonghan asked, but his friend kept drinking.

Joshua shrugged. “I just thought that you might’ve tried it at least once.”

“Why would I do that?” Jeonghan frowned, the ache palpitating strongly in his chest. “She’s gone.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring it up like that,” Joshua replied, lowering his gaze in shame.

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, leaning your cheek against the side of his head. The sighs slowly turned into moans, spilling out of your lips relentlessly as you rolled your hips on him, fucking him slowly. “Jeonghan,” your voice called.

“I know, baby,” he replied, enjoying the feeling he got whenever he was with you, it was bright and alive and dancing on his skin. “I feel it too,” he whispered.

You moved your hands to cup his face, pressing a hard kiss on his lips as you started moving your hips on him faster. “I love you,” you breathed.

Jeonghan moaned, wrapping you with his arms to flip the positions on the bed, pressing your body against the mattress. “I love you,” he replied, a shudder overpowering him, making him utter your name, over and over as he made love to you.

He pressed his body against the hard mattress, calling your name again as he woke up violently with an exasperated sigh. Rubbing his hands against his face, he shook himself from the merciless dream he had of you. “Gods,” he choked out, covering his face in shame, breathing hard against his hands. “Fuck, fuck!”

The hole in his chest pulsated painfully, desperately calling out to you to no end. As he closed his eyes, gathering himself, he saw you in the eye of his mind. Your sweet smile, every curve of your body.

It seemed a true tragedy that he could feel you in his dreams only. He felt your skin, he felt the bond responding to you the way it used to when you were alive. It was the first time he dreamed of you since you left, and he suspected it would not be the last.

This was his burden to bear. And he would have to endure it.

When Jeonghan first met you, he could not make sense of the pull he felt. His surroundings warped and everything focused on you, on your face, your eyes, even your smell. Jeonghan did not feel the very particular repulsion he always felt whenever he came in close contact with a demon.

But he wished to. He tried to force himself to recoil at the thought of you, after he met you. But everything inside him made him want to walk right back to that pub where you used to work. In the back of his mind, he saw the doors to the pub, the bar, he wanted to go there one more time and see you.

It felt wrong. It felt so dirty and sticky to even think about you without recoiling. But Jeonghan was strong-willed, and very diligent on his job, so he just kept himself to his business. Tracking and getting rid of demons. But somehow, he could not get near you again, even if everything in his life obligated him to track you, hunt you.

Time went on like this, his mind plagued with the morbid curiosity to go back to that pub and see you again. In his dreams, he saw your eyes, he heard your voice make out the same exact words you told him the night he met you. He heard your voice utter your name, the sound echoing in the back of his mind as he tried to continue with his life.

Until one night, when something unfortunate happened.

It was one of those sleepless nights, Jeonghan decided to go on a night watch out of town. He was tracking some demon activity he was informed of nights ago. This demon apparently had a pattern which was not a rarity, demons could tend to go for certain humans at a certain time, it was not weird.

But apparently, this demon liked to hunt a particular kind of human; humans that were either wanted criminals or suspects of a crime, people that liked transgressing against their own in the worst ways imaginable. And that was something worth noting to Jeonghan, it made this demon easy to catch.

Or at least, that is what he had thought.

Night after night, Jeonghan had no luck falling asleep and when he went out to track this demon, he had no luck focusing on the task at hand. He was on the verge of calling it a night, wanting to fall asleep in his car, or in the nearest motel he could find. Walking aimlessly on the side of the road, he realized that it would take him about twenty minutes to get to where he parked his car and sighed.

A small shiver ran down his spine as if the line of his back was being stroked with the tip of a paintbrush. His eyelids fluttered in response, and his chest felt strange, like overcome by a fuzzy sensation.

He needed to be alert, he thought. A demon was around, and he could sense it. Stopping his lazy gait, he sent his gaze to scope his surroundings, through the thicket of trees flanking the lonely road.

But as the feeling inside him returned, and more intensely, he realized that he was in danger. A rustle of leaves echoed at the other side of the road where he stood, and slowly, a figure emerged from the trees, it moved gracefully and gently. A pair of dark horns distorted the shadow.

As he reached for the knife strapped to his thigh, he realized that he only felt endangered because it was you who moved through the shadows of the forest. And he wanted to avoid you above all.

“I was beginning to wonder if I’d ever see you again,” your voice reached him like a gentle caress on his mind.

“What are you doing here?” Jeonghan said, not removing his fist from the handle of his knife. “Are you following me?”

You tilted your head to one side, a smirk spreading on your lips. “Why, are you afraid of me?” you mused, laughing lightly. But when he did not reply to your quip, you just shrugged. “I came out because I was craving a snack. But I think you might suffice.”

His fist tightened around the handle, his eyes quickly reading your stance, but you remained leaning on your side to the trunk of the tree.

“Relax, hunter,” you said, tossing your hair from your shoulder to your back and crossing your arms. “Have a little laugh, you look tense.”

Jeonghan stood his ground, lifting his chin to analyze you a bit further. “Did you kill any humans tonight?”

“No, not yet,” you picked your nails, trying to appear as uninterested in his questioning as possible, but your heart was running a mile per second. Being around Jeonghan was thrilling, it made you feel full in your chest and every nerve beneath your skin to call for him.

“But you will,” he said, realizing that it was you, the demon he was looking for. The demon that only fed on men that hurt women and children.

“Well, a girl’s gotta eat,” you sighed, pushing yourself off the tree and taking a step toward him.

He tensed up at that instant, one foot stepping back but then he decided to hold his ground, trying to resist walking away. You were dangerous, and he did not know what set you apart from other demons.

You ignored the fact that he still had a hand on his knife, and he was very much as lethal as you were. Taking some steps to where he stood still, you coiled one finger around a strand of hair, smiling when you realized that he was not afraid of you, but weary.

“You seem like you need a night off,” you pointed, coming closer to him to take a fuller look at his face, seeing the bags under his lifeless eyes, and the dry skin on his lips.

“Don’t come any closer,” Jeonghan warned, rigid with the question of why he could not make his muscles move in any direction.

“Or what?” you asked, standing in front of him. “Are you going to kill me, hunter?” you asked, your eyes glimmering in the dark, full of curiosity.

“If you take another step I might,” Jeonghan replied with certainty, something in him stirring with a strange fascination when you smiled at the clear warning.

“No, you won’t,” you countered, giving him one of those looks that made him feel more uneasy. “You’re not at full strength, you’re tired, and hungry. And worst of all, you feel like you can’t move, am I right?”

It was like you could read into his soul, he thought. Your words were like wildfire spreading inside him, it made his insides boil with rage. Part of him wondered why he was made this uncomfortable and angry at something one demon said. Demons spoke out of the need to lure hunters into a trap, and this was no different. But this trap seemed so tempting.

To drive your point further, you took another step, inches away from Jeonghan.

“I make you nervous,” you whispered, fascination glinting on your eyes as you wallowed. “What are you going to do, Jeonghan? You can’t run away, and you can’t attack me, so what’s your next move?”

His breathing shifted when his name fell from your lips. He had never felt this way, he realized. The quick pulse, the fluttering in his stomach, the shaky breathing, he knew how nervousness felt, but this was entirely new to him.

“Hm?” you pressed, tilting your head to one side as you nearly stood on your tiptoes to level with him. “Come on, no one’s going to judge you if you run away, and I won’t tell a soul,” you showed him a mischievous smile, one that he might have hated if it were not for the tight feeling invading him wholly.

As you stood before him, one thing became painfully clear to him: he was attracted to you. It was something simply physical, or that was what he tried to convince himself. Maybe it was your pretty face, your velvety tone, the grace in which you moved. Not only that, as he casted a look down to meet your face, he also had a glimpse of your frame and the thought of wanting to meet every curve of your body was alluring.

So alluring that he wanted to surrender to it.

At that, your eyes shone more intensely. Again, as though you had a secret line to his thoughts, and you just had discovered what he was thinking.

But you sighed with faux disappointment. “And here I thought you were fun,” you pouted in mockery. “Pity. I guess I’ll just go and have fun elsewhere,” you moved again, walking around his body once, as though taking another full look at him. “Bye, hunter.”

And then you sunk into the line of trees again, disappearing from his view. But his senses were already tuned and following you, so he could hear every step you took down the forest. And he could not help but take a step in your direction as well.

That night, he chased you down the forest, his heart beating in a frenzy, his mind blank but with only one intention. You started sprinting, laughing lightly when he kept with your pace and ran closely behind you.

When Jeonghan was finally within reach, he grabbed your arm, turning you around and messing up your step. You stumbled back against a tree, realizing that he had calculated this because his arms were caging you in on both of your sides.

Jeonghan brought a hand to your throat, his fingers pressing on your skin harshly, his strength subsiding once he felt your pulse. But his face, riddled with confusion and frustration at the same time, his mouth parted a little as he could not bring himself to say anything. His gaze swam over the features of your pretty face, stopping once on your eyes, your lips.

The moment was deadly quiet as you witnessed the fire inside him die down slowly once he came in contact with you, skin on skin. It was game over, you knew it, and Jeonghan did too. There was a quiet exchange of glances right before Jeonghan dipped his head and you closed your eyes, gulping on air as his lips met your own with a swift kiss.

What possessed him to do that, Jeonghan did not know, but he was not in the position to ask himself any more questions because he did it again. Kissing you now with abandon, his lips sinking in between yours, making out with you like he never had with anyone else. You moaned into the kiss, sending him into a frenzy.

It was as though you were both committing a crime, and none of you would say a word. You grabbed him by the flaps of the black leather jacket, pulling him impossibly closer to your body, the proximity making your chest feel fuller, your blood heating up.

He released his grip on your throat, his fingers sliding down your torso to undo the button of your blouse. The next moves were rushed, as though neither of you wanted to stop and question what you were about to do. And the forest around you stood silent too, being witness to the fateful deed.

In seconds, Jeonghan had you pressed against the trunk of the tree, your legs wrapped around his hips, your skirt hiked up your tummy, your chest naked and exposed to him. You sneaked a hand between your body and his, reaching for his hard cock to guide it to your entrance for him to sink inside you, making you feel every inch of his dick in one go.

The first stroke set your whole body aflame. Your mouth fell open, but no sound came out as Jeonghan wasted no time and started fucking you with hard thrusts, not giving you time to adjust to the stretch of his cock. The wind got knocked out of your lungs with sharp exhales, but you kept yourself angled for the merciless rutting, unable to look away from the fiery obsession growing inside him, showing on his face.

Neither of you said a thing, just kept looking at each other, unable to speak, or to look away. The feeling was exquisite, invading every inch of your body, tingling beneath your skin. Jeonghan’s eyes glazed over, his mouth parting slightly but he kept himself quiet, fucking you to get rid of the thing trying to rip his heart out.

And when you reached your orgasm, it was the best feeling you had ever experienced in your life. It had you finally moaning out his name, clenching around him as he too spilled himself inside you with hard thrusts.

That was the night that kickstarted the deep craving and obsession you had for each other, the push and pull that Jeonghan could not make sense of until the night you told him of the bond. That was the night that Jeonghan regretted for a long time until he lost you.

“Hey, are you there?”

Jeonghan lifted his head, snapping back to reality. He had been contemplating for hours, sitting in the kitchen with a mug of cold tea in his hands. His fingers had grown cold again. He cleared his throat and nodded. “Yeah, what’s up?”

Mingyu opened the fridge for the fifth time that day, just to close it again. “Wonwoo and I are going to a Halloween parade downtown, see if we catch something fun. Wanna come with us?”

Jeonghan did not know for how long he had been sitting there reminiscing about you. In his mind, Jeonghan could still feel your touch on his skin, so it was difficult for him to assimilate what he had just heard, so he nodded again, accepting the invitation. “Sure,” he croaked.

“‘Kay,” Mingyu smiled giddily with the triumph of getting Jeonghan out of the house. “See you in the garage in five minutes.”

The streets were full of nocturnal life. People came out with costumes of all kinds, some of them were recognizable to Jeonghan, and some were not. It was a small city where the headquarters were located, but Jeonghan was not surprised to see a lot of people gathering there for the Halloween parade.

Demons ran amok in places like this, they practically crawled into these types of events, and humans were easier prey in crowded places. It was also easier for demons to mask themselves.

“We should go, Mingyu,” Jeonghan said, moving through the crowd and using Mingyu as a shield.

“Maybe we could move to the sidelines,” Wonwoo suggested, walking behind Jeonghan. “It would be easier to stay alert like that, we don’t have to be in the thick of the crowd.”

“Have a little fun, you two,” Mingyu said. He was a person that could find the good side to nearly everything, even this damned job, Jeonghan thought.

“I’m going to take a breather,” Jeonghan said, trying to cut through the crowd.

“Gods, you are one ray of sunshine,” Mingyu tutted. “Come on, this way,” he motioned to one side of the multitude of people, where they could cross more efficiently.

Jeonghan followed, walking away from the sea of people, and starting to thread through it to get to the other side of the street when he felt it. It was a rush, tingling down from the back of his head to the rest of his spine. It left him speechless, breathless.

“Wait,” Jeonghan blurted, placing a hand on Mingyu’s shoulder.

“What is it?” he frowned, sending his gaze through the sea of faces. The muscles of his jaw twitched, and as he drew in a breath, he exhaled: “Demon.”

Jeonghan stood frozen, eyes fixated on the pavement. “No,” he uttered dejectedly, straightening up to catch his breath. Not just any demon. He searched through the mass of unknown eyes, the masks, the makeup, growing more and more desperate as the feeling returned caressing his back, making him shudder.

“Jeonghan, what is it?” Mingyu muttered beside him, squaring up his shoulders after noticing the shocked expression on his face.

Yoon Jeonghan would know your face anywhere. Not just that, but the way the very air seemed to change whenever you were near.

“Mingyu, stop,” he whispered, digging his fingers on the muscle to bring him to a halt.

Mingyu dropped his jaw slightly, ignoring Jeonghan’s direct order and made a motion to step into the crowd again, a hand reaching for the knife on his back.

“I said stop,” Jeonghan ordered at once, his tone firm and snappy.

You moved through the sea of people, your eyes swimming all over the place in true amazement, your mouth parting as you looked at the costumes that the people around you wore.

Jeonghan shuddered, unable to blink in fear you were an illusion. But Mingyu saw you too, he saw your wings in full display, brushing against the humans around you, and he saw your black horns curving back from the crown of your head.

You laughed when a man dressed in a killer clown costume jumped on you, trying to get a scare out of you but failing miserably. The sound of your laughter made Jeonghan weak, it made him want to dissolve into the pavement below his feet.

“What the fuck?” Mingyu whispered, looking at you and then back at Jeonghan. “She’s a demon, what are we waiting for?”

“She’s mine,” Jeonghan snapped but did not look away from you. He simply removed his hand from Mingyu’s shoulder and started to walk slowly towards you as you moved through the myriads of costumes, wide-eyed in amazement.

As he came closer, reality seemed more and more like a joke to him. He tried to convince himself that perhaps he was dreaming again. But there was no denying the bond pulsating stronger as he approached you.

“Nice wings,” a guy said in passing, catching your attention but only for a fleeting moment.

You made no reply, only continued looking at your surroundings, the lights mirroring your dark eyes, full of hunger, full of life. Dark eyes that glided all over Jeonghan’s frame as he stood in front of you, perplexed to the point he forgot speech, he forgot how to use his mouth.

“What are you supposed to be?” you asked, tilting your head to one side.

Jeonghan did not know what to reply, as he was unsure that you even knew that you spent the last three months three feet below ground. You looked as alive as the day he told you he loved you.

You died, I buried you. Jeonghan’s mind reeled over and over. Your heart stopped beating, I buried you.

“I’m… I…” Jeonghan whispered, not by choice, but by the inability to raise his voice higher.

Your eyes went over the features of his face, and he expected eagerly to see a glint of recognition in them, but you beat him to it. “Do I know you?” you asked, your voice soft and gentle with him, but you did not know that your question might have been like a dagger to his heart.

His heart caved in, and he took the pain as he had been taking it for the last three months that you were gone. “I don’t think so, no,” he finally said, his pulse quickening upon realizing that the sound of his voice made your pupils dilate.

His voice. A very distant memory, like trying to recall a lost dream upon waking up from a long nap. You studied him with your gaze one more time, trying to figure out why his face meant something to you.

Jeonghan saw his two companions through the corner of his eye, but he ignored them, knowing the reason why you also looked so wide-eyed. “Are you hungry?” he asked, and seeing your brow furrowing, he quickly added with a thumb pointing back. “There’s a diner down the street, far away from all this noise.”

And far away from any potential casualties.

“I suppose I don’t get a name,” you quipped, and shivers ran down his spine.

So he tried to figure out if that brought back any memories when he said: “Only if I get yours first.”

Your gaze went soft, your breathing quickening slightly but only for him to notice it. You did not know your name, and the realization shook you so hard that it made you dizzy. “Yeah, I think I’ll go with you. If you’re buying.”

At that, Jeonghan mustered up a light smile, seeing that although your memories were gone, you were still you. “Yeah, I’m buying.”

He cast a look back only to make sure that Mingyu had understood why Jeonghan had ordered him to stop. And there was a knowing look mirroring back in Mingyu’s eyes, as he needed no explanation. Jeonghan nodded to him and then motioned you to follow down the street where the diner was located.

As you walked in front of him, he got a view of your entire frame. The t-shirt you had worn the day that you died was torn on the back midway through, for when those hunters tried to cut your wings. The rest of your clothes were dirty too, black with traces of blood and dirt, adding to the illusion of a Halloween costume.

“This place is good. I’ve been here many times before,” Jeonghan lied, keeping an eye on you to see if you were keen on catching his lies. “The pancakes and syrup are delicious.”

“Pancakes and syrup?” your eyes flitted to his face and back to the diner as Jeonghan pushed the door open, holding it for you.

Jeonghan nodded in short motions, his heart deflating a little when he saw no evidence that you had caught his lie. “You’ll love it.”

“Mmn,” you hummed confusedly, following him like a puppy that has just found a knowing elder. “I believe you.”

Jeonghan motioned to a seat of one of the booths and you slid obediently, crossing your arms on the table. He flagged down one of the servers and ordered for you only, glancing your way back and forth, tearing his gaze away only when you noticed his eyes on you.

“Eh,” you began, scratching an invisible itch on the back of your hand when the server kept looking at you weirdly until she walked away.

“It’s your wings,” Jeonghan pointed at your large, membranous black wings with the tip of his nose. “They look too real for a Halloween costume.”

You pouted, giving one of your wings a look. “They are real,” you muttered, seemingly offended.

Jeonghan sighed, unable to tear his eyes away from you. I’m glad they are, I’m glad you are real, he wanted to say but the words never came. “Yeah, I know.”

“These are too,” you pointed to the black horns curving back from the crown of your head.

“I know,” Jeonghan muttered, leaning over with a curiosity that he could no longer try to shake off. “Can you try to hide them?” he asked.

Your eyes were windows to your mind because they widened in shock for an instant. “Is that possible?”

Jeonghan realized that he never asked you how you did it, so he nodded and thought of a reply quickly. “Imagine them gone.”

Instinctively, your eyes swam upwards, focusing for half a thought and then your horns dissipated from his vision. “Oh,” you muttered, smiling in small triumph. “Did I do it?”

He smiled with you, unbeknownst that he had not done that in months. “You did it,” he said, his chest finally feeling whole and warm. “Can you try with your wings now?”

“Mmmn,” you frowned, breathing in and then they were gone too. “Oh, that feels weird,” you muttered with a small giggle that sent chills down his spine.

“Two coffees and pancakes with syrup for the young lady,” the server chirped, aloof that you had gotten rid of your horns and wings completely, serving the order and then walking away.

“Thanks,” he muttered, expecting for your first bite.

You were aloof to his scrutiny, sinking your fork into your food and taking one bite. You had the reaction that Jeonghan had secretly been waiting for, your eyes widened, glinting as you released a pleased moan. “Wow,” you muttered, wasting no time and taking another bite.

“Is it good?” Jeonghan whispered, keeping his eyes on you as you ate eagerly.

“So good,” you mumbled, your cheeks stuffed with your favorite dish. “I like this.”

“I’m glad,” Jeonghan replied meaningfully, trying for a second time to see if that brought any memories back. After seeing your reaction, he had no doubt in mind that somehow you were miraculously brought back to him instead, he was full of questions now, and he knew it would not be a straight answer to every single one of them.

“Penny for your thoughts?” you raised your eyebrows just as you were about to take another bite from your food. When he remained motionless, you added: “We’re strangers, I know, but I know that look.”

“Eh?” he frowned.

“You know, when someone wants to say something but doesn’t have the guts to,” you shrugged. “I don’t know much about things, but I can be a really good listener, and…” you sneaked a glance at his face and back to your plate. “You seem familiar.”

Jeonghan saw some glimpse of hope, but he remained careful. Nothing could be this good in his life and you coming back to it had to be another joke somehow. “Where do you come from?” he asked.

You pursed your lips, dubious of how to reply but you just went with what you could make out from experience. “I actually don’t know,” you said with an awkward air. “I dug myself out of a hole in the ground.”

Jeonghan showed you a sad smile. “That seems like a weird experience,” he commented just to keep you talking.

And it worked. “Yeah, I guess nobody thought of double-checking to see if I was really dead,” you smiled lightly but sent a quick glance to verify if Jeonghan would understand your dry humour.

“Or maybe you’re just a very deep sleeper.”

That made you laugh, the sound bubbly and airy. It surprised you for a second, but Jeonghan caught that look on your face despite him being overridden with a deep sense of joy when he heard the sound coming out of your mouth.

Jeonghan tried to keep his facial expressions in check, but he was so mesmerized that it showed in his glinting eyes.

“What about you, stranger?” you asked, pushing the empty plate aside and propped one elbow on the table, resting your chin on your hand.

“What about me?” he asked uncomfortably, coughing to shake off the deep wonder he felt.

“Where do you come from?” you asked innocently, shifting slightly on your seat to mask that you were also uncomfortable by the sense of familiarity his face gave you.

“I come from a town very, very far away from here,” he responded.

“Are you not hungry? You didn’t eat,” you said, taking the cup of coffee to your lips to drink one large gulp, you recoiled immediately, putting the cup down and using that hand to cover your mouth.

“What?” Jeonghan asked, frowning upon knowing that reaction. It was a natural instinct to recoil from things that could burn, humans did it. But not demons. Demons could not get burned from a hot coffee, much less feel like recoiling instinctively.

“It’s hot,” you said, lifting your eyes to him in shame as your eyes watered slightly from the stinging pain.

“Did you get burned?” Jeonghan pressed in utter bewilderment.

“Well, yeah, that’s what happens when something is really, really hot!” your eyes widened.

Then you did something that only sent him further down his intrigue, reaching out to grab the sugar to add two spoons to your coffee. You did this naturally and without much thinking. It was as though your memories were lost, but things out of habit remained with you. He wondered then if that was how you had instinctively found him. He wondered how strongly you felt the bond.

“Well?” you asked, stirring your coffee with the spoon with gentleness. When he just raised his eyebrows, you added: “Aren’t you hungry?”

He cleared his throat awkwardly. “No, I’m not,” he replied, clasping his hands beneath his chin and propping his elbows on the table. “You?”

You nodded. “I’m full,” you replied contently.

Confusion gripped him again, making him furrow his brow. “You’re not hungry anymore?” he asked, knowing that you could take one full meal, and still be hungry for more. Because no meal could satiate your need to feed on souls.

But you nodded cutely. “Yep, full.”

Another glimpse of hope. Something Jeonghan desperately wanted to cling to. If you could burn yourself, and feel full after one meal… not only that, but you miraculously and quite literally crawled out of your grave.

“Do you remember what it felt like?” Jeonghan whispered, so quiet that for a second he feared you would not be capable of hearing him.

But you raised your eyes. “What?”

“When you woke up in that hole, do you remember what happened before that?”

You shook your head slowly. “Nope,” you pouted once more. “How do you know I don’t remember?” you inquired, tilting your head to one side.

“I uh,” Jeonghan leaned back on his seat, flagging the server to ask for the bill. “I guess you’re familiar too,” he said, showing you a tight smile.

“Mmph,” you looked at him for a long moment, thinking that his eyes, the glint in them made you think of a spark before a fire.

Jeonghan on the other side of the table, was beginning to mortify with the idea that your temporary death might have inched you closer to becoming human. The time you tried to become human was through soul starvation, something that was slowly killing you too. And he thought that maybe you were only able to come back because you remained part-demon. A half-mortal.

Jeonghan also suspected that it was him uttering your name in the middle of the night the detonator for your resurrection if he could even call it that. Summoning a demon was a whole ritual, but you were bound to him and him to you, so everything that he thought he knew about it was uncertain too.

“I guess I should thank you for the food,” you toyed with the edges of the table without looking at him. “But I also don’t know why you’re doing this for me.”

“You have nothing to thank me for,” he said, realizing that his throat had gone dry with his thinking, he felt breathless, and it was not only because it was hard for him to sit with the fact that you were back, but also because he now had to make a choice.

If he was right and you were half-human now, you were also unaware of the bond. Jeonghan was face to face with the opportunity to finally let you go, and set you free from this vicious cycle. You would not be subjected to a lifetime of misery with him, being chased for being who you are and being with a demon hunter like him.

But there was another problem: he made a promise to you.

“Are you okay?” you whispered.

“Yeah, yes I am,” he cleared his throat once again, he pulled out his wallet and left a bill on the table. “Listen, I’ll show you a place where you can stay for now, alright?”

Before you could answer, he stood up from the table and walked towards the door of the diner, making you follow him outside.

“Where are we going?” you asked, trying to keep up with his large steps.

“A place where you could be taken in, a shelter,” he eyed you as you walked beside him.

“Will I see you again?” you looked panicked for a second, fear creeping inside you at the thought of him disappearing.

“No,” he replied shortly, lowering his gaze to the ground as he led you through an alleyway, knowing that the shelter would be just across from it.

Jeonghan could honor his promise to you. He would not walk away from you, he would not let you go. That would make the bond grow peaceful and content, and that would make his suffering end at once.

One undeniable truth was that if he could walk away from you, there would be no danger around you. Sure, you were still half-demon, so that would eventually put a target on your back. But he could keep an eye on you from afar, make sure you’re making the right choices for yourself, as you always have.

That way, maybe you could continue to have the life you always wanted. Maybe, in time, you would find someone who would give you what he never could, maybe that someone would be able to love you the way you deserve.

“Right,” Jeonghan breathed, trying to ease the pain in his chest. “I’ll be going now,” he muttered, slowly turning around and walking down the empty alleyway, every step becoming more and more torturous to him.

You watched him walk, the movement of his body growing weaker as the distance grew. “Hey,” you called, but he did not stop. “Stranger!” you began approaching him, but his steps took him farther from you. “Stop!”

Jeonghan did, breathing raggedly. Breaking a promise was hard, and the pain was nearly lethal. He vaguely remembered you saying something about breaking promises made to demons, but the pain numbed him to his last nerve ending.

You quickly made your way over to him, noticing that his body was shaking uncontrollably. “Hey,” you sighed, gathering yourself.

“What?” Jeonghan forced out, his voice quivering as he tried to stop the tremors. He was growing feverish, but as you closed the distance, he could regain some of his composure.

“I can’t let you go,” you frowned, unable to comprehend why you were so intrigued by him.

Jeonghan laughed dazedly, it was a mad laugh but not at you, but directed towards life and its crazy way to mock him. “You must,” he replied, the feeling coiling in his throat nearly strangled him. “Go to the shelter. They’ll take you in. You could start a life far away from this fucking mess.”

“Start a life?” you parroted again. “I don’t know my name, or who I am. Don’t go. Please?”

Jeonghan searched your eyes one more time. If he could not keep his promise, then at least he would give you back your name before walking away from you once and for all. “Your name…” he choked out your name, falling on his knees from the numbing pain he felt.

“That’s my name?” you whispered, trying to keep him on his feet, but he was growing heavy in your arms. “What’s yours?”

Jeonghan shook his head slowly, his eyes glazing over as he started to lose consciousness. “No,” whispered. “Go, forget me. Forget all this.”

“Please,” you insisted. Grabbing his face as he knelt in front of you, seeing his dark eyes, his soft lips. “I know you. I know I do,” you muttered, kneeling down so you could see him face to face.

He sighed, grabbing one of your hands and pressing it gently against his cheek, closing his eyes briefly. “My name is Yoon Jeonghan,” he muttered, bracing himself for the merciless thrill of the bond snapping in place one more time.

You sucked in a breath, your body tensing as the familiar feeling returned to your bones, coursing through your veins. “Jeonghan,” you breathed.

Jeonghan kept his eyes closed but shuddered as you uttered his name, choking back a sob. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, afraid of opening his eyes. “I promised I wouldn’t walk away from you,” he slurred the words, feeling lightheaded as his forehead fell forward, bumping with yours. “I’m sorry…”

“Jeonghan,” you whispered, your hands cradling his face shifted slightly in their place, feeling his skin.

He held his breath out of fear that you might reject the bond as he did to you many months ago. He wished to keep you there for a second longer, your forehead pressed to his, even if his lucidity waned, verging closer to passing out.

But then, you ran the pad of your thumb over his bottom lip softly, making him pull back slightly, opening his eyes to see your face. Something had changed. In your eyes he found the familiarity in them, you knew him.

He whispered your name carefully, fearful. “Baby?” he breathed, right before his head lolled to one side, his body following it to the ground, where he lost consciousness.

Jeonghan woke up abruptly, disorientated. The ceiling was one he had never seen before and that induced him into a panic that pushed him to sit on the bed where he lay. Lightheaded, he understood after some seconds that he was in a motel room. And that he was completely alone.

Had he been dreaming all this time? He rose from the bed going around it to look for traces of you. But he found nothing. Breathing fitfully, he took his hands to his head, forcing himself to focus.

The door clicked softly and was pushed open cautiously. As you entered the room, you sneaked a look directly at the bed, expecting to find Jeonghan still in his sleep, your gaze swam across the room, falling upon Jeonghan, who stood frozen directly parallel to you.

“Ah, you’re awake,” you chirped, entering the room and closing the door behind you. You had half expected to find the room empty if Jeonghan had woken up alone while you went to grab something to eat.

Jeonghan remained rigid, looking at you as though afraid he might wake up from a dream again. His breathing was ragged, and his vision began to blur.

“I hope you don’t mind I took your wallet,” you said, leaving a paper bag on the chair as you removed the zipper hoodie from your shoulders. “And your hoodie.”

“Wh-what—how…” Jeonghan breathed, shaking with so many emotions at the same time it was hard to focus, it was hard for him to command the muscles of his mouth to demand the answers he needed to know.

You approached him carefully, rubbing your hands together as though anxious. “You passed out last night,” you explained, though that was obvious to him, he did not need you to say that. “And I took you here because I don’t know where you live. And I don’t have a home.”

Jeonghan took in a breath sharply, tears spilling from his eyes as he listened to your voice. He raised one hand slowly, carefully meeting your cheek to make sure you were not an illusion.

You began to worry, your eyebrows pinching together. “Was I gone too long?” you asked meaningfully, understanding that he was in shock.

Jeonghan nodded slowly, the pain in his heart pulsating when you grabbed his hand on your cheek, pressing it against your skin before you wrapped an arm around his torso, so he did the same, hugging you tightly to his body.

“I’m sorry,” you cooed softly, trying to swallow your tears as he sobbed in your arms.

“I missed you,” he muttered, his body wrapping you completely, his face hiding on the curve of your neck, his arms grabbing you tightly to the point the air started to leave your lungs.

Your heart deflated upon hearing the raw sadness in his voice. “I know,” you whispered, feeling the bond deep inside you pulsating, feeling everything he felt during these months of your absence.

“I buried you,” he whispered, shaking uncontrollably, his fingers curled around your clothes, trying to hold onto you to never let you go again.

You caressed his back gently as he shook with sobs. “I’m sorry,” you said, feeling guilty for the pain he endured while you were gone.

Jeonghan grabbed your face, still finding it hard to believe that you were there, and you were fine. “How?” he asked, his voice waning over the emotions coiling in his throat.

“I don’t know,” you whispered, circling his neck with your hands as he moved to press a long kiss on your forehead.

It did not matter, all the explanations in the world would fall short of explaining the relief Jeonghan felt.

“I’m sorry you had to go through this,” you said, knowing that there would be no resolution to this.

“It’s okay now,” he replied, pressing his forehead on yours.

“Jeonghan,” you muttered, pulling back to see his face before asking: “Tell me what happened, please.”

He went rigid with pain in an instant, but he nodded slowly, moving to sit down on the foot of the bed to avoid growing weak in his stance. You sat beside him, reaching for his hand as though you could not keep your hands to yourself.

“Do you remember the hunters?” he asked, waiting for your confirmation and he proceeded when you nodded silently. “And do you… remember what they did to you?”

Your gaze fell out of focus as you tried to conjure the memory of the moment before your death. The memories were fragments of pain and worry; you remembered some things, and those were enough. “Yes,” you said.

Jeonghan bristled in pain slightly, but continued despite it. “You were gone for three months,” he explained, the pain from your absence still felt recent, the wound still fresh. It was baffling to him that you were now here, as though nothing had happened.

“How am I back?” you asked slowly, furrowing your brow slightly. “What did you do, Jeonghan?”

He understood at once that you were worried about what he could have done for you to return scatheless, or so you thought.

“I…” he lowered his gaze, growing ashamed of himself. “I think I summoned you in my sleep.”

“Is that possible?” you asked. “I thought you needed to do a ritual to summon me.”

“That’s the thing,” he raised his gaze again, shifting on the bed so he could face you better. “I don’t think that applies to people like us. I didn’t need to do a ritual, I just needed to call for you.”

“So you’re telling me that you did not say my name once for three months?”

Shame returned to his face, nodding silently without looking at your eyes. “I’m sorry,” he said, his bottom lip trembling slightly. “I just couldn’t—it hurt so much,” he sighed, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Hey,” you whispered, bringing a hand to cup his cheek, forcing his brown eyes to meet yours. “It’s okay,” you showed him a light smile. “You did what you had to do.”

His eyebrows pinched softly. “Can you forgive me?” he whispered.

You sat on your knees beside him, grabbing his face fully with your hands. “There is nothing to forgive, Jeonghan,” you said warmly, pushing his long bangs away from his face. “I’m fine, and I’m here thanks to you.”

He wrapped his arms around your waist to bring you down with him to the bed. “I can’t believe that you’re back,” he said with a tiny tone. “I thought I would never see you again.”

Meanwhile, you were still trying to digest the fact that he lived through three months of mourning and guilt, while you just closed your eyes and woke up in a clearing with flowers around you. Confused, but with one thought in mind: follow the thing that pulled you to him.

Jeonghan caressed the side of your face with the back of his fingers, looking at you longingly as the pain inside him deflated slowly. “You’re half human now,” he told you, remembering the look on your face the night before.

You nodded, enjoying the gentle shivers that his touch gave you. “It feels funny,” you giggled slightly. “I’m weaker now.”

Jeonghan mirrored your smile, his fingers trailing down to grab your chin. “I guess I should be careful with you now,” he whispered, meeting your lips with his own.

The kiss ignited every single inch of your skin, drawing out a small moan from you. And for Jeonghan, it felt like he was coming back to life too, his lips searching for yours hungrily, emitting a small grunt into your mouth that only made you want more.

“Jeonghan,” you breathed when he stopped kissing you, but his lips lingered on yours.

“I missed you,” he replied in kind, his lips brushing against yours softly.

You moved your hand to caress his chest over the black t-shirt he wore. “Do you want to show me?” you mumbled, pressing a tender kiss on his lips.

He moved his hand from your chin to cradle your cheek, looking into your eyes. Jeonghan lost count of the times he wished to be this close to you again, to feel the warmth of your skin, to breathe in your scent. Unable to break away from you, he pressed your body to the mattress, climbing on top of you while kissing your lips hungrily.

You made a muffled sound on his lips, grabbing his face to pull him as close as possible to you. Kissing Jeonghan still felt electrifying, now that you were part-human. You were still able to sense him through the bond. Everything was the same except that your senses were slightly dimmed.

“What’s that?” Jeonghan mumbled between kisses.

“It feels different,” you breathed, grabbing his shoulders, feeling the edge of his collarbone with the pads of your thumbs.

“Different, how?” he asked, his gaze coasting over the features of your pretty face.

“Like the stronger part of me is numb,” you said, showing him a meek smile when the explanation felt ridiculous to you. But your smile faded, the glint in your eyes dimming a little. “I can’t see your soul anymore.”

Jeonghan tensed slightly on top of you. “You could see my soul?”

You nodded slowly, ashamed that you never told him while you were able to see that fiery flame dancing inside him. “Sorry,” you whispered.

“It’s okay,” he replied in kind, realizing the reason behind the weird looks you would give him, you could see through him quite literally. “I wonder how many other things will be different now,” he said.

You would probably age closer to a normal rate now. You were part-human, you could fill your tummy with human food, and you were at risk of falling sick like humans but the probability of that could be minimal.

“You still like me, right?” you asked with a playful giggle.

Jeonghan rolled his eyes, smiling with you. “Unfortunately, yes. I do,” he mumbled, lacing his words with sarcasm.

“How much?” you teased, enjoying that despite you were no longer able to see his soul, he was still an open book to you.

“Shut up,” he said, leaning over to press a tender kiss on your lips, muffling the sound of your giggle. “I love you,” he mumbled.

You closed your eyes, shuddering at the sound of his voice, the bond responding to it like a bolt of lightning shooting through you. “I love you more,” you replied sweetly, still grabbing his face with your hands.

At that, Jeonghan could have sworn that the pain he endured without you was cured. He released a groan into the kiss, his lips diving deeper into yours, only breaking away when your hands slipped beneath his t-shirt, and he helped you take it off.

He followed your body when you sat up on the bed to take your t-shirt off, and he quickly moved to take your jeans and panties just so he could have you wholly naked before him. There was no rush to relieve the pressure growing inside him, he just wanted to appreciate every curve of your body, to leave kisses on every inch of your warm skin.

And you could see that need in his eyes, it was visible how much he missed you. He stood on his knees before you, looking at you for one long moment. Your heart squeezed for him when you realized that, while you were delighted to explore the changes in your now partially human form, he was healing from the grief he felt when you were gone.

“Jeonghan,” you called, snapping him from the train of thoughts reeling in his mind. His eyes met yours. “Come here,” you said, raising your arms to wrap him in them when he pressed his bare chest against yours.

“Sorry,” he whispered.

“It’s okay,” you replied, parting your legs so he could slot his hips between them. You grabbed his cheek as he left one kiss on yours. “I love you.”

“I love you,” he gasped, moving his lips to leave a trail of kisses on your jawline, and your throat, humming when he realized that the scent of your skin remained the same. He delighted in the taste of your skin when he ran his tongue on one of your breasts, wrapping his lips around your pebbled nipple to tease it a little, just to hear the sweet sound of your moans.

“Jeonghan,” you sighed, bringing a hand to grab a fistful of his dark hair.

He hummed softly, his breath fanning on your bumpy skin as he moved to lick your other nipple, kissing it and grazing it lightly with his teeth. He pressed his lips on your sternum, resuming his trail of kisses down until he sank between your legs.

“Fuck,” you breathed, finding out that despite you were not at full power as you were, you were still very much sensitive. Your skin prickled when his hands slipped beneath your thighs, holding you as he placed the first kiss of many on your inner thigh.

Propping yourself on your elbows to look at him, he raised his eyes too, meeting yours right before licking a generous stripe on your folds. A shudder invaded you, reaching every nerve ending in your body, tearing apart your self-control. Your head lolled back, a pleased sigh escaping your lips as he worked his mouth on your pussy, practically making out with it.

The sensation was near-euphoric. It made your mind go blank. It left you breathless in an instant. You suddenly felt the weight of your absence, as if your body was gently reminding you that you had gone without his touch, even if you had not been aware of it. But a part of you was sure that you never wanted to go another day without his caress.

“Jeonghan,” you called breathily, running your fingers through his long hair, letting his tongue lap between your folds, drinking you in with raw moans.

Your orgasm came fast, faster than you wanted. Your jaw went slack with a loud moan, shuddering hard as he continued eating your pussy out, watching you come undone with lewd gasps until you let your body fall back on the mattress to enjoy the short aftershocks of your climax.

When he climbed back on top of you to kiss your mouth, you moaned when you tased yourself on his lips. Reaching for the belt of his jeans, you swiftly finished undressing him, not hiding how badly you needed him.

“Hey,” he breathed, touching the tip of your nose with his own. Your eyes met his as he lowered his bare body on yours, pressing his chest against yours.

You sighed, skin prickling when you felt his hard dick on your lower tummy as he kissed you again. “Jeonghan,” you moaned into the kiss. “Hurry.”

He obliged, smiling lightly at you before sneaking his hand between your pressed bodies, grabbing his fully hard cock to guide it to your pussy. His eyes swam all over the features of your face, nudging the bulbous head of his cock in your pooling entrance.

Your mouth parted, eyes widening in anticipation when you felt him. “Please,” you mouthed, bracing yourself for the electrifying feeling.

He swallowed hard, starting to sink inside you tortuously slow, delighting himself with the look on your face, the way a gasp left your mouth. You instinctively parted your legs for him, lifting your knees to your chest for him to push inside you to the hilt, and when he did, he released a raw moan.

Jeonghan pulled his hips back, to then push his cock in your walls slowly, as if testing you. He looked at you as he sheathed his cock inside you making you feel every raw inch, the vein in the underside of his shaft, the bulbous cockhead. He breathed out a broken moan, his face contorting in pleasure.

Jeonghan moved his hips, setting a faster pace on top of you when he made sure you had adjusted to the stretch of his cock. The smacking sounds of skin against skin became louder as he quite literally pounded on you, knocking the air out of your lungs with short gasps.

“Jeonghan,” you breathed, squeezing your eyes shut as you swore that you would burst from the pleasure building inside you.

As though on command, he slowed down the rutting of his hips. He breathed fitfully against your lips, leaning his forehead on yours as he kept his thrusts gentle on you, massaging your walls slowly with his cock. “You feel so good,” he whispered, swallowing hard.

“You too,” you sighed, feeling his scarred chest with your palms, keeping your knees up for him to sink his cock deeper inside you. “So good.”

Jeonghan shook slightly, lifting his hips so his cock slipped out of you, paused, and then sheathed himself back inside you, making you feel the length of his cock, every ridge beneath his bulbous cockhead, the warmth of the base of his cock. He smiled when you moaned, gritting your teeth to hold out for him, but pleasure consumed you quickly.

“Baby,” he whispered, framing your head with his arms before leaning to kiss you. “I love you.”

It felt like his dreams came alive to haunt him in real life because for a split second, he was fearful again that this might not be real. But you moaned into the kiss, holding his shoulders with your hands to keep yourself in control. “I love you,” you breathed.

He locked his lips with yours, moaning into the kiss, keeping his thrusts at the same pace that was pushing you to the edge.

“I’m close,” you gasped, pinching your eyebrows almost involuntarily.

Jeonghan planted a loving kiss on your cheek. “Let go, baby,” he whispered. “I’ll come after you.”

“Come with me?” you mumbled.

He smiled at you. “We need to be careful now,” he whispered, pushing his lips against yours tenderly.

“I don’t want to,” you said in defiance, caressing the line of his back until your hands reached his ass, palming him as he pushed his cock inside you.

He laughed lightly, ignoring your feeble attempt at trapping him with your hands. “Do you want me to come inside you?”

You nodded eagerly, unable to speak up, keeping yourself angled for his cock massaging your walls.

Jeonghan knew he had struck a weak point for you. He kissed you again, this time swiftly and chastely. “You wicked thing,” he breathed, pressing another kiss. “Want me to stuff you full of my cum?”

“Fuck, yes, yes, please,” you closed your eyes, inching closer to your orgasm.

He gave you an airy laugh, and you would have paid attention to it if it were not for the merciless shudder consuming you wholly. You cried out loudly as waves of pleasure washed over you, the pleasure so intense that your eyes brimmed with tears. “Jeonghan…”

Jeonghan reached to grab your hands, lacing your fingers with his, and putting them above your head as the pace of his thrusts became faster, harder. He moaned your name, making you think that he was coming with you, stuffing you full of his cum.

But then he pulled out with a raw groan, pushing his forehead against yours as he came on your tummy, ropes of warm cum spilling on your skin, dripping on your sides, trickling down your skin.

Not giving you the opportunity to protest, he kissed you. But you whined impishly in his mouth, making him laugh and press your hands on the pillows with more strength, easily overpowering you.

He stopped kissing you, pausing to look at your face. Once he saw you pouting, he started to laugh, his chest shaking against yours.

You tried to ignore what the sound of his laughter did to you. “You pulled out!” you whined, trying to free your hands from his grasp.

“We don’t know what could happen now that you’re human,” he replied with a dazzling smile.

Maybe he was right, but you just wanted to see that smile, to hear that laugh again so you continued with your childish act. “So what?”

He gave you an airy chuckle. “So what if I get you pregnant? Is that what you want?” he asked, but then something inside him shifted with the realization that it might be something you wanted.

“Maybe,” you replied, your gaze dimming but then you shook your head. “One day. Perhaps. I don’t know.”

He thought of coming up with a quippy response, but the feeling in his chest would not allow him. “Let’s get cleaned up,” he muttered.

After showering, Jeonghan sat at the foot of the bed, half-dressed and drying his long hair with a towel. He raised his eyes as you exited the tiny bathroom of the motel room, approaching him to stand between his parted knees.

“I bought us breakfast. With your money,” you smirked, putting your hands on his shoulders.

Jeonghan’s features broke into a smile. “That sounds great,” he replied, leaving aside the towel and grabbing one of your hands to press a kiss on your knuckles.

Then he gave you a look. One that spoke of months of thinking about you every day, of thinking about what he could have done with you. Life seemed so fragile to him, so fleeting after he lost you, that he kept thinking of the things he would have done differently. And now, you stood before him, a dream come true, the one wish he asked life to grant him.

“What?” you mumbled.

Jeonghan blinked repeatedly when you brought your hand to his forehead, pushing his bangs away. He smiled. “Do you like flowers?”

› author's note: so this kind of just happened. i am obsessed with these two 😭 and can you guys believe that i wrote my first major character death scene ever because of this series? insane

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