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#this is from chapter seventeen
heavencasteel420 · 2 months
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I am probably getting way too amused at the mounting stress of the lady who is using the dressing room stall next to the one where Nancy and Carol are trying on winter formal dresses. Carol's just real fucking mad about the pastel tyranny of the Misses Formals selection this year!!!
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dragonseeds · 1 year
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game of thrones, eddard i / game of thrones 1x01 / “kingdom by the sea” by amy parker (on lolita) / game of thrones, eddard x
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acaciapines · 6 months
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WAIT HOLD UP THE LAST GOD DAMNED CHAPTER IS SEVENTEEN THOUSAND WORDS???????
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witchvvolf · 6 months
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getting up to open black forrest cake. docx even though she gave me a nightmare last night ♡
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jimmyjrsmusoems · 1 year
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just made a sesskag playlist in this year of our lord 2023 😔
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avocado-frog · 1 year
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Dahlia. 5
Rating: T Warnings: child death, murder, human experimentation but only briefly referenced, implied child abuse, child abandonment Title: 6/7/2020 Word count: 5.5k Summary: The inside of the lab wasn't any better. Plain, white walls. Pristine, white, tiled floors. Thick, glass windows. A few books, a stack of paper and pencils, a toy or two, the only thing they got to pass the time before one of the people- white coats, blue masks, blue gloves- called one of them back.
Winter brought on hopelessness. Like it would never really end. They would never leave that place alive.
(12/3/2010)
Feet crunching in the frosted grass, book held protectively under his arm, with his camera wrapped around his wrist, Logan found a spot underneath the overhang, leaning against the glass wall.
He waited, knowing he wasn't going to get a lot of time to read before the kids came to bother him, but he didn't mind. The only thing he worried about was the cold. The uniforms didn't do much in way of heat preservation.
Logan thought it was ironic how much he hated the winter. He had ice magic, which was what Leo told him when he offhandedly mentioned his disliking of it. The other kids thought it was hilarious.
In truth, Logan missed normal winter. Before his eleventh birthday. When he shared a room with his older brother, when they stayed up late to watch holiday movies. Houses decorated with bright, colored lights, decorating his own house, staying home from school, the last day before break was always filled with paper snowflakes, loud music, baking cookies. Flying to China for a week to visit his grandparents on his father's side, and then to Japan for the rest of his family on his mother's side, then back to America. Three weeks in total. He remembered wishing that his family members would just visit them instead, but it was always fun to visit. He couldn't remember anything from when he lived there himself.
Logan was fourteen now, turning fifteen in January, and he didn't even know what month it was. He only knew his birthday and current age, because that's what the adults told him. Logan Kari, fourteen, January fifteenth, nineteen-ninety-six.
The other kids couldn't remember much from before. Before their kidnappings, before the lab, so Logan had to teach them. Every tradition he could remember, every detail. He told them lots of stories. He could only imagine the disappointment on Leo's face when she realized how truly underwhelming a microwave was. 
Winters were spent outside in the dreary weather. Logan couldn't feel the cold, but he knew that for the others- Leo especially- it got bad. For Logan, ice magic let him feel heat worse, yet be unaffected by the cold weather. Still, the sky was a light gray, snow drifting silently. The trees beyond the fence looked jagged and lifeless as their leaves were buried beneath white snow.
The inside of the lab wasn't any better. Plain, white walls. Pristine, white, tiled floors. Thick, glass windows. A few books, a stack of paper and pencils, a toy or two, the only thing they got to pass the time before one of the people- white coats, blue masks, blue gloves- called one of them back.
Winter brought on hopelessness. Like it would never really end. They would never leave that place alive.
-----
(5/12/2011)
"It's safer to go in groups," Logan tried to rationalize. The twins, ten years old, both nodded like they understood, but Logan could tell. They were scared. Scared Logan would leave them behind, scared that they would pay the price for what Logan was going to do, scared that Logan and Lily and Jasmine would all die.
"I'll come back for you in two months," Logan promised. Leo gave a firm nod, and Cass bit her lip, nodding along. "I promise."
"You'll be okay?" Leo looked up at him, and he smiled thinly, forced.
"Yeah, we'll be okay, Leo." Another nod. "You'll protect each other while we're gone, okay?"
Leo grinned, nodded again, and took her sister by the hand. "Promise."
Two months...
...He didn't see them again for six years.
-----
(5/13/2011)
A fifteen-year-old Logan, desperately clinging to the smaller hand of a nine-year-old Lily, with his younger sister, Jasmine, trailing close behind. Tunnel vision, as the exit came into sight. His peripheral vision faded to black, it was all he could see, all he could think about. He'd come back, in two months, for the twins.
He almost reached, he was so close. Gunshots fired in the distance, there was a thud, and Logan slowed to a stop, already tensing like a spring as he began to turn.
He was met with the sight of Lily, hands covering her mouth as she stared down at something with the most horrified face he'd ever seen on anybody that young, and his gaze snapped to where his eight-year-old sister should have been.
His sister laid on the white, tiled floor, in a white uniform, stained bright red, as blood created a shiny pool under her head and stomach. She was already dead. There was no use in moving to try to save her.
Logan pushed Lily behind him, as his heart rattled, pounded, threatened to explode, and suddenly, he was overcome, overwhelmed, every emotion began to flood his system.
Footsteps ran towards the group, and they were so close to being done. His breathing quickened, he couldn't control it. His head hurt, his vision spun. He wanted to vomit, only able to stare down at the sight of his sister. He couldn't breathe.
An almost-painful sense of cold ran through his veins, growing sharper, and sharper, until it felt like he was being stabbed, and he screamed.
Sharp pillars of ice shot around him, nearly hitting Lily, narrowly avoiding Jasmine, impaling the men with the guns. Three of them, Logan could count, fell through the ice spikes, leaving bloody trails behind. The ice blocked off any more from coming through. He did the only thing he could think to do, and grabbed Lily by the hand, trembling as the ice followed in much smaller spikes, out the exit.
Logan couldn't see. Alarms blared bright red, loud. Screams, gunfire. Logan didn't stop, on autopilot now.
Deep, deep into the woods was when he finally slowed down, hearing Lily struggling to breathe finally snapped him out of his panicked daze. She leaned against a tree, fighting to catch her breath. Logan fell down, palms digging into the sharp blades of grass, vision blurred.
Arms wrapped tightly around his chest, eyes pressed hard into his knees, shirt stained with blood, his veins turned ice-cold, lungs constricting, chest tightening, he couldn't breathe.
He screamed.
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(8/10/2013)
Getting out of the forest was a blur. He couldn't remember how he survived with Lily during those few months, but it was a lot harder than what he planned. He thought he could go back for the twins in two months, but he couldn't even leave the woods for five.
He felt sick. He promised he would go back for them... it just had to be put off momentarily. The weather grew hotter, and Logan was sure he was going to die for at least a week straight. Still, his timing was perfect. At least it wasn't winter. Lily wouldn't have made it.
The first thing that they had seen when they got out of the forest was a highway, and Logan barely reacted in time to save Lily from being hit by a car. He held her hand tightly as they found a way to safely get across, his heart racing as he finally stepped foot on something that wasn't grass. Solid asphalt.
Logan found himself immediately overwhelmed.
People ran past them, there were so many. Talking, yelling over the phone, racing each other down the sidewalks. Lily pressed herself into his side, and he was okay with that, terrified that she would get lost.
Maybe he was paranoid, but people shot them looks. Either disgust or pity, Logan couldn't tell. But he suspected that the two of them didn't look fantastic.
Mostly, they were stopped on the streets and asked where their parents were. Logan had no way of contacting his family, and was quite confused when it turned out that nobody knew his mother or father at all. The world outside of the lab was a lot bigger than he remembered.
A few states away, they managed to find a house. One that nobody lived in. The door creaked open with a careful push, and Logan didn't let go of Lily's hand, inching inside.
Dried blood stained the ground at the bottom of the staircase, trailing down from the steps. The fifth step down was cracked, the railing splintered. In front of one of the rooms, another puddle of dried blood. The furniture had a thin layer of dust, four of the eight bedrooms used to be occupied.
The first room was a kid's room. The one with the blood in front of the door. A small, wooden bed was pressed against the corner of one of the walls in the back, a blue comforter, yellow fish adorning the fabric, haphazardly twisted against the gray sheets, pillow tossed to the floor, stuffed animals- a yellow pufferfish, a pink starfish, a gray shark- strewn around the floor near the bed. As if the child had been in a rush to get out.
The boy who lived there must have really loved the ocean, Logan thought, as he continued to search through the room. Coloring books sat atop a desk, neatly arranged. Markers were tossed to the ground. A bookshelf filled with thin books, basic facts about different types of fish. A DVD sat on the floor, covered in dust. A cartoon mermaid sat on a rock with a crab and a yellow fish was on the cover. Coloring pages with that same cartoon mermaid laid underneath it, scribbled in red and purple and teal.
The boy signed his drawings in blue crayon. Ryan, with a backwards 'Y'.
The next room he found must have belonged to another boy of the same age. Logan liked to imagine that this one was supposed to have cleaned his room, but threw everything into his closet and under his bed like his parents wouldn't notice. In any case, his room was messier. Orange bedsheets, dinosaur stuffed animals. The room itself was painted bright orange.
Plastic dinosaurs, plastic bugs, plastic green army figures. Barely any effort was put into hiding the toys. By his TV was a handful of DVD cases, action movies for little kids, and a collection of episodes from a show about superheroes. ...Turtles wielding weapons and color-coded masks, something Logan didn't understand a single bit.
There was a wooden toy sword at the end of the hallway, coated in blood, and Logan thought it was safe to assume that it belonged to this one.
A deflated basketball sat underneath the desk, beside a bin of action figures. On the top of that desk, unfinished homework assignments for- Logan assumed preschool, maybe kindergarten. Signed with the name Sam, all capital letters, several exclamation marks at the end.
The third room, another boy's room. Glow stars stuck to the ceiling had all mostly died out, though they formed neat constellations on the walls. Foam planets hung from strings above the bed. This one was neatly made, unlike the other two, only slightly ruffled up.
Books about space laid scattered around the floor, coloring pages ripped out and taped to the wall, scribbled-in drawings of planets and astronauts and spaceships.
A big, plastic castle sat against the wall, plastic dragons sat on either side like guards. On the inside of the castle, a princess in a pink dress, and a prince in a red cape, with several knights gently laid in different rooms of the dollhouse.
This one took great care of the toys in his room, he noted, seeing how neatly arranged they all were, lined against the walls, organized perfectly. A small projector sat on the floor, displaying photos of the universe on the ceiling, while a narrator's voice told facts.
Elliot's name was written in overlapping, big handwriting on each drawing, some of the letters capitalized, some lowercase, varying in size. Always in purple marker. At least one of the letters was always backwards. They were all signed with what age they were done by, too. Two years old, three years old, four years old, and then five. It stopped at five years old.
The fourth room must've been the parent's room. A bed with red blankets, a desk against the wall, and a dresser on the other side. Above the desk was a photograph. Logan paused.
Leo and Cass told them that they had brothers. When Logan would ask what they wanted to do when they got out, it was always what they said. They wanted to go home, see their mom and dad, and their younger brothers.
They must've died earlier that year. If Elliot was five, at least, and Leo said that the last time they had seen them, they were two years old, doing the math, it made the three kids five years old.
So, Logan kept that photograph of the kids up on the wall, dusted them off, and cleaned the blood from the floor. He had to ask how to get a key made by the neighbors, got one for himself and for Lily, and cleaned each of the kid's rooms. He couldn't bring himself to get rid of anything, couldn't bring himself to throw the drawings away. Everything was kept in boxes in the attic.
Finally, he was finished. Finally, he could sleep. He took the room that was downstairs, the parent's room, so that if anybody broke in, he'd be the first to know. Lily took one of the last rooms down the hall, it didn't have anything in it. A guest room.
Logan locked the door to his room and didn't come out.
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(9/6/2013)
Logan could hardly make himself leave his bed. The door was locked, and he had no intention of letting Lily inside. Lily... Lily was self-reliant. She could take care of herself. She was almost ten years old. Logan was eleven when he had to start taking care of himself. Lily could do the same.
He closed his eyes. His sister bled out in front of him. Spikes of ice shot at guards, warm blood splattered on his face. He took off running. His parents found him with a girl they didn't know instead of the sister he was supposed to keep safe. He couldn't find his parents at all. Leo and Cass were probably dead. Their family was dead. He wondered what happened to the three kids. What happened to the parents.
Lily pounded on the door and screamed for him to get up. Logan ignored her, curling in on himself, staring at the wall, tired, afraid to sleep.
Lily was crying and Logan was restless. Eventually, he had to get up. Eventually, he had to go outside again.
When he did, it was because there wasn't anymore food, there hadn't been in almost two weeks, and they would starve to death if he didn't figure something out.
She would die.
She would die.
She would die.
His sister was dead.
During the year the kids had spent wandering around, looking for a place to live, people acted strange. They would ask if they needed help, try to call the police, offer a place to stay (those were good days) or give them food or money. Logan had... maybe twenty dollars saved up.
Twenty dollars didn't make them as rich as Logan thought it had. It bought them a box of rice, a can of beans, cabbage, carrots, juice, some apples, oranges, and a bag of candy. It was enough for the time being, but they would need to find a way to get more money at some point. He had to get creative with the cooking, making something Lily would eat every day, something different, or else she would get bored, and it was a good distraction.
Logan got the both of them in school, had to lie and say he was Lily's brother (it put a weird taste in his mouth) and that they had both been homeschooled up until that point. They both struggled in the grade they were put in, but school was a good distraction for them both, too.
 ...For Lily, at least. Logan was terrified every second Lily was out of his sight. 
-----
(11/1/2013)
He didn't expect the twins to be there when he came back, but he was still devastated when they weren't. Logically, he knew they were dead.
He told Lily, and she cried, and she didn't talk to him for five days. Logan retreated back to the safety of his bedroom.
He failed them, too.
-----
(12/18/2013)
Logan, against his better judgement, let Lily go to the park across the street. By herself. He was afraid, scared that she'd be caught and killed, but she turned ten two days before, and was convinced that she could do it.
Logan was proud of himself, actually. He managed to get a job, and was able to keep himself and Lily alive. He didn't have to pay for anything regarding the house given that he technically didn't own it. He didn't know how to buy a house. Lily came back home from the park, knocking on the door. Logan hummed to himself, thinking that he must've locked it by accident.
Lily stood with two other kids on the other side of the door.
Two other kids, one (nine years old) had a gash on their forehead, unconscious as they leaned against the second. Black hair fell over their face. The other kid, looked a lot younger, maybe six, had their hands covering bleeding ears.
Logan rushed them all inside, took the one with the bleeding forehead to one of the kid's rooms, (Ryan's, he thinks). The other one never left their side. They couldn't hear- jumped whenever anybody spoke, always had their hands covering their ears- and didn't like to talk, and couldn't read or write.
It took the first kid, the older one, a week to wake up, and they couldn't talk very well either. Logan suspected brain damage. They had trouble articulating words, had trouble walking without using the wall as support, always had a headache, couldn't concentrate, and had seizures once or twice. That was absolutely terrifying the first time it happened.
The other one, the six-year-old, nobody could talk to them. Nobody knew their name until the other one told them.
"Dylan," the older one- Jaxon- mumbled. They refused to tell Logan their name. They pointed at the other kid. "That's... what they said that- that they wanted- wanted to be called."
Dylan. Logan nodded. And that's what they called them. Dylan and the other one. Dylan spent most of their time trying to learn how to read, glaring at Logan if he tried to help. They figured it out after a while, eventually learned to write, and it made things easier.
Dylan was a little hard to read. They weren't fluent in sign language until they were around ten, but they learned to read at seven. Dylan and Logan could talk to each other, the thing was whether Dylan wanted to. They hardly ever initiated a conversation with anyone who wasn't Jaxon.
Dylan didn't trust them. They were six years old and had a backpack packed because at any second, Logan was going to kick them out. That's what they thought.
Logan picked up on sign the quickest, followed by Dylan, and then Lily, and finally, Jaxon. That one wasn't great at picking up on languages. They had to sign slowly for them and for Dylan. Logan didn't mind.
Dylan was scared of him. They hid behind a locked door with Jaxon, huddled in the corner of the room until it was time to eat. They would take the plate, and watch the other kids, would wait until they were all done, wait thirty minutes, and then they would start. Once they were sure Logan wasn't poisoning them.
They were six years old.
One day, Logan tried to figure out a way to make Dylan trust him a little more, so he told them about the toys up in the attic. The children they belonged to were only a year younger than Dylan was.
So, that was how the kids discovered that the attic door had an automatic lock function when it closed.
Nobody could find Dylan for hours, because Logan was out trying to get something from the store and didn't know about the attic, and left Lily in charge while he was gone. He returned to find Jaxon in tears, Lily absolutely frantic, and Dylan sobbing in a locked attic.
It took several more hours for Logan to convince them that nobody locked them in there on purpose.
Two years passed, and the two kids had both decided that they wanted to go to school, because it was where Lily and Logan both left during the day, and Logan worried about leaving them home alone much more than he did about having them in school.
Dylan was eight for their first day of school, putting them in second-grade. Like with the other two, Logan had to say that they were siblings. He didn't really mind it as much as he did before.
Dylan insisted that they would be fine on their own, since the other kids were obviously in different grades. But as much as Dylan didn't trust any of them, they hated being alone.
Something happened that day. Dylan might have been overwhelmed, or something was said to them, or being alone was a lot harder than they thought.
Logan got off of work early to pick the kids up that day, and as he waited outside with the parents of other kids, Dylan was the first one out.
Dylan, fearfully looking around, chewing on their hand, crying, eyes snapping to meet Logan's gaze, making a beeline towards him, head burrowed in his stomach, sobbing. People turned to look, made little sympathetic noises, and Logan had to protect the poor kid from a few of the adults who brought it upon themselves to try to get them to stop crying.
Logan spent a lot of time trying to find the kid's families. But they never found Dylan's parents. Nobody knew where they were, and Dylan had only been three years old, they wouldn't have remembered anyways. Logan managed to find a file for Dylan somewhere, and found their parents through that. They learned from there that Dylan had been left on a dumpster in an alleyway nearby, and nobody could figure out a way to tell them. Logan was the one who ended up having to do it, when he was eighteen, and Dylan was nine. Dylan took the information about the abandonment, and simply left for the park across the street. 
Logan could tell that Dylan cried about it, face hidden with a hood pulled over their head when they came back. Neither of them talked about it, but Logan wanted to find Dylan's parents more by that point. He had a lot of words for them that he would never say in front of the kids.
They found the other kid's parents when they were eleven, a little while after they learned about Dylan. Logan expected them to leave, possibly for Dylan to go with them, because Dylan liked them the best.
The kid had looked uncomfortable- almost afraid- throughout the entire visit, and it only got worse when they started to argue. Logan had been out in the kitchen, he didn't know what it was about, and nobody spoke about it when it was done.
...When it was done, the kid had a broken wrist, Lily knocked out a grown man with a toy baseball bat, and their father was being arrested.
As Logan attempted a home-made cast around the kid's wrist, he decided that maybe those two were better off with him, anyway. They had said that they'd rather stay than let Logan try to find alternative family members for them.
Logan had six biological siblings that he never spoke to, and his parents, who he hadn't seen since he was eleven.
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(9/12/2016)
He always kept his door open. That was the rule, the first thing he told the kids. His door was open. Lily had nightmares, sometimes, and wanted to stay with him. Logan never minded. Jaxon joined every so often, and Dylan only once or twice.
One night, he recalled waking up to finding all three of the kids- Lily was thirteen, Jaxon was twelve, and Dylan was nine, he'd known the younger two for three years by that point- all asleep in the bathroom. Lily's hands were stained blue, Jaxon's hair was wet, also dyed blue, and Dylan was surprisingly unscathed. Jaxon's hair was sloppily cut to his ears, chopped poorly, done by the hands of three kids.
He woke up Jaxon, took Lily and Dylan back to their respective rooms, and gave him a proper hair cut. He already knew, if he was being honest. It hadn't been much of a shock when Jaxon whispered his name to him, when he cried after Logan smiled and said it was okay, when Jaxon did end up in his room for the rest of that night. Dylan came out maybe two weeks later, but Logan had never known them as anything but Dylan.
Lily was Lily, so she was accepting of them both (almost aggressively so) and Logan did as much research as he possibly could on the matter. Logan didn't care. As long as they were all happy. He was proud that either of them trusted him with that information at all.
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(10/13/2016)
The kids always faltered when introducing each other to people.
Logan referred to the kids as their names, like the rest of them did, and he would be asked one of three questions. If they were related, whether or not he was their adoptive father, (god forbid) or whether they were adoptive siblings. Logan always went with the siblings route, because he was not old enough to be their father at all and did not want to be referred to as such. But he never introduced them as siblings unless asked. 
He was hardly listening when Lily invited a friend over, and when she gestured to Logan, introducing him as her brother, and that'd been it. He didn't think anything of it, until a few hours later. He never mentioned it.
Later, she asked if it was okay if she did that, because she knew about his biological sister, and Logan decided that it was fine.
Jaxon was the second one, when he had to go home early from school, after falling from the monkey bars and hurting his arm, when the nurse opened the door for Logan.
"Your brother's here."
Jaxon stood up, followed Logan to the car, and fidgeted with his hands like he had a question that he didn't want to ask. Logan had to prompt him.
"Are we brothers?" Was Jaxon's question, and it caught Logan off guard. Jaxon's face immediately filled with regret. "Sorry. It's just that the- the teachers at school all say that we are, 'nd Lily calls you her brother, too. So I was just wondering..."
Logan shrugged. "You can call me whatever you like. I don't mind either way."
"...Okay." Jaxon played with the end of his hoodie string. "I think I'd like it."
And when Dylan used the sign for brother to get Logan's attention, that was the one that nearly made him cry. Dylan had just stood there, wondering why Logan was crying when they had simply wanted to inform him that they were out of apple juice.
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(11/12/2018)
Logan had found it mildly worrying that Dylan and Jaxon had both met a new person that day, named Cass and Leo respectively. Even more so when Jaxon told her that the Leo he met had been looking for a Logan. And when Dylan told him that the Cass had been looking for a Lily.
Dylan had invited the two over for dinner the next day. Logan said that was fine.
He accepted the twin's deaths ages ago. He made a mistake, a poor judgment in not taking them. He worried, though, that they would have ended up like Jasmine.
The two that Dylan invited over, had in fact ended up being the twins, looking so different from when they were ten. Logan guessed them to be sixteen now. They didn't look hurt, Cass had stayed relatively the same, now wearing black glasses, a brown cardigan sweater. She was polite, kind, she was the same as six years ago.
Leo was different, and painfully so. Sharp, angry, paranoid. Logan almost didn't recognize her. If she didn't share the same name as his supposedly-dead childhood friend, he wouldn't know it was the same one.
He let the twins stay. How couldn't he? He should've taken them with him from the beginning.
Two people turned to four with the addition of Jaxon and Dylan, and they stayed like that for five years, until the twins. Six people became nine, with the triplets that joined soon after.
Logan wouldn't change it for anything.
-----
(3/20/2019)
Logan's door was never locked. It was always open at night.
So the night that Logan woke up to frantic pounding on the door, to Sam screaming for him, when he shot up and scrambled for the doorknob, fumbling with the lock until it turned, it was worrying. Because he never locked or closed that door.
"...Sam?" Logan rubbed at his eye, and stared at him. His face had lost color, tears in his eyes, hands clenched into fists at his sides. "What's wrong? Is everything okay?"
Sam didn't speak, making some choked noise, gesturing to the kitchen, so Logan followed him, and slowed, and stopped.
His ears rang, he couldn't focus, he had to stay awake long enough to fix this. Blankly, he remembered Dylan telling him to hide the knives.
He told Sam to get Cass and to get Dylan, and the boy darted up the staircase, leaving Logan with Ryan and Elliot.
Ryan, eyes glazed over, pale, staring at his brother, blood flowing from a deep cut on his palm, dripping onto the tiled kitchen floor. Breathing shallow, he looked up at Logan, desperate.
He didn't say anything, and Logan didn't want him to. Moving carefully, he directed Ryan away from the scene, whispering for him to stop looking, as he led him to the countertops, sitting him down on the top, raising the bleeding hand into the air, searching for their first-aid kit.
Several footsteps ran down the stairs, and Logan couldn't even begin to imagine what the other's reactions would be.
Elliot, on his side in a pool of blood. Still alive, but barely. Dylan's magic was able to keep him alive, Cass's was able to fix the wound, and stop the bleeding, but it took both of them a long time, and Logan didn't want to think about Elliot at all so he didn't watch.
"It's really deep," Jaxon muttered, sitting near Ryan because he didn't want to see Elliot either. "If Cass doesn't... finish soon.. he might need stitches."
Logan knew that, but he appreciated Jaxon for filling the silence. Jaxon turned to Sam, asking a question.
"He won't like it," Sam cringed.
Logan hated giving stitches, and it turned out that Ryan shared their collective fear of needles. Every single one of them, besides the twins, were afraid of needles.
Logan never had stitches before, so when he told Ryan that they wouldn't hurt, he didn't actually know.
Whether Ryan was just afraid of needles, or in genuine pain, Logan didn't know, and it didn't matter, because either way, the minute his eyes locked on the needle in Logan's hand, he was screaming. Thrashing to get away, begging to be left alone, and it was a struggle, and Ryan didn't leave his room after that.
The aftermath of that, Logan didn't think anyone took it well.
Leo and Jaxon's fight was proof of that. 
Two months ago, they were inseparable. They contrasted each other so much, and yet complemented each other perfectly. Logan knew that on Saturdays, they would stay up either watching movies in Leo's room, or in Jaxon and Dylan's to play games until Dylan kicked them out. There was never one without the other, but Elliot was their third in that group. Elliot almost dying created a rift, and Leo took her anger out on Jaxon, and nobody found him until morning.
Leo and Ryan disappeared, and Cass left to stay with her cousins. Sam stayed with the others on the chance that his siblings would come back, and Logan left to finish college in-person. He hated to leave them, but this was something he couldn't fix.
Logan regretted leaving them so much. Sam called every day, updated him on everything that happened, and it was his favorite part of the day. Sam made new friends, Logan was happy for him, but sometimes, it was different. Sometimes, Sam was crying because of a bad nightmare, worrying that he would never see his siblings again, that Elliot would die, and Logan reassured him that it was going to be okay. He didn't know if that was the truth.
Mostly, he regretted leaving because of his siblings. Sam and Elliot were a whole separate thing entirely. Of course, he cared about them, he was worried about Elliot just as much as the others were, but the others, those were his main priority.
Dylan, especially, was upset that he left. Logan visited whenever he could, and Dylan always avoided him. Logan knew exactly why, and he hated that he was reminding Dylan of their parents.
Jaxon was just angry in general, called Logan an idiot for leaving, and yelled and screamed when he had to leave again. Lily had to hold him back from literally attacking him.
Lily said that she understood, that she wasn't mad, but Logan could see the undercurrents of anger hidden in her eyes. She denied it every time.
-----
(6/7/2020)
Logan finished packing the last of his things into his car a while ago, and had resorted to sitting on an empty mattress. Sighing, he stood up, knowing that it was better to get it over with.
He'd be home in two days.
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You really don’t have to be a jerk about it but okay
If we all do only what we have to do then life isn't very interesting
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etfrin · 5 months
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❝ꜱᴏᴜʟꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴄʀᴜꜱʜ❞
ᴄᴏʀɪᴏʟᴀɴᴜꜱ ꜱɴᴏᴡ
series by etfrin | not to be post anywhere without permission!
coriolanus snow x fem! reader
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snow lands on top
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series taglist | series playlist | navigation
about: coriolanus snow refuses to have a district girl (albeit grown up in the capitol) as his soulmate. it's humiliating and below his status. and so with the 10th annual Hunger Games begins creating the utter most chaos in his life and makes him face everything he had ignored! (movie compliant)
note: some dialogue and paragraphs are taken from the book [the hunger games: the ballad of songbirds and snakes]
I do not own any of the hunger games characters or original stories, only the plot of this fanfic.
cross-posted on ao3
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prologue !
chapter one !
chapter two !
chapter three !
chapter four !
chapter five ! part one | chapter five ! part two
chapter six !
chapter seven !
chapter eight !
chapter nine !
chapter ten !
chapter eleven !
chapter twelve !
chapter thirteen !
chapter fourteen !
chapter fifteen !
chapter sixteen !
chapter seventeen !
chapter eighteen !
chapter nineteen !
chapter twenty !
chapter twenty-one !
chapter twenty-two !
chapter twenty-three !
chapter twenty- four !
THE END . . .
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sincerelyrki · 3 months
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MINI SKIRT
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SYNOPSIS ⮕ You know Jake Sim and you love Prada, it was already a perfect combination. You just happened to always be in the same place as him, at the same time. And that place just happened to be the Prada store. It’s not your fault that your Prada collection expands as your interactions grow. Especially not considering that Jake couldn’t stop himself from fawning over you (and your mini skirts).
PAIRING ⮕ idol!jake x fashionmajor!fem!reader
GENRE + WARNINGS + TROPES ⮕ smau. idol x fan [kinda]. forbidden love. fake relationship. love triangle [brief]. warnings will be added on each chapter.
STATUS ⮕ STARTED! march 15
TAGLIST ⮕ OPEN! send an ask or comment to be added
FEAT ⮕ minseo [woo!ah]. minju [illit]. haemin [8turn]. taesan [boynextdoor]. sunwoo [ the boyz].
A/N ⮕ okay so i’m actually releasing this one before any upcoming ones + this has been in the drafts since january 😍 i’ll be updating this smau along with pika pika.
UPDATED A/N [03/27/24] ⮕ before reading / asking to be added to any taglist please read this : 18+?
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PROFILES
| bunnies
| prada lovers (by force)
| homies
| fan accs
CHAPTERS
| one : no homo but i’d smash
| two : prenup <3
| three : forgot you homie hopped 😭
| four : em sowwy
| five : don’t speak beabadoobee to me
| six : jake sim? the hot australian?
| seven : #wehatesunwoo
| eight : sorry greg
| nine : (jake)
| ten : prada withdrawls
| eleven : oh fuck
| twelve : bunya
| thirteen : jakey jakey eggs and bacey
| fourteen : MAN FUCK SONG KANG!
| fifteen : bunch of make belief
| sixteen : don’t yuck my yum
| seventeen : and a pea car was cheaper?
| eighteen : my little werewolf🥺
| nineteen : FUCKING PEA GIRL?
| twenty : #streamsforever
| twenty one : MROWWWWWW😻🐱🐈‍⬛
tba
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@ SINCERELYRKI all rights reserved. 2024.
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florencemtrash · 6 months
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The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Masterlist
Azriel x Day Court Librarian Reader
Summary: Y/n's clairvoyance is a gift from the Mother, but it feels more like a curse. With the power to gain knowledge through touch alone, Y/n holes herself up in The Alcove and hopes her powers and parentage will remain a secret. But things will change after the Summer Solstice ball and a chance encounter with a certain Shadowsinger.
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Started: 12/12/2023
Last Updated: 05/04/2024
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
If you'd like to be added to the taglist, please comment below or message me!
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otdiaftg · 1 month
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The King's Men - Chapter Seventeen (19)
Day: Friday, April 26th / 27th* Time: 7:05 PM EST
"You two could at least say hello," Wymack says, somewhat aggrieved. "There's no point," Kevin says. "All they are is a distraction." "It's called a support network. Look it up." "Thea is watching from South tonight," Kevin says, looking to the elevated VIP box. It is too far away and too high up for Neil to make out any faces, but there is a small crowd gathered at the windowed walls already. Knowing the Court is here to watch them play sends a chill through Neil's veins. Kevin drags his stare back to Wymack's face and says, "and my father comes to all of my games. That is enough." On Wymack's other side, Abby's gaze softens. Wymack's jaw works for a moment before he can say in an even tone, "Your mother would be proud of you." "Not just of me," Kevin says in a rare bout of humanity.
Art used with permission by Kevinkevinson. Thank you @kevinkevinson!
*Due to the Leap Year, I have opted to highlight the day rather than the date to keep the events in occurrence to the 2007 year. I will continue to mark both days accordingly.
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weasleyreidstyles · 6 months
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Serendipity Masterlist
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summary: it was only meant to be a purely transactional relationship. he would help her strengthen her abilities in return for her getting his friends out of his father's nasty path. he didn't mean to fall for her, but loving her was the easiest thing in his dark world.
series status: ongoing
“serendipity is the phenomenon of discovering something interesting or valuable by chance”
no use of y/n, but your general nickname is Meadow. All characters are aged up to be over 18. and bellatrix isn't mattheo's mother in this fic (just fyi)
pairings: mattheo riddle x fem!ravenclaw reader; platonic!slytherins x fem!reader; platonic!golden trio x fem!reader
general warning(s): 18+ content, angst, fluff, some canon compliance, some canon divergence, typical wizarding world violence, war, torture, drugging, hospitals, familial problems, mean!harry, mean!ron....
** indicates smut warning
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~∞~ chapter one
chapter summary: on the trainride to your sixth year, your friends give you a proposition that you can't refuse.
~∞~ chapter two
chapter summary: it's your first day back as a sixth year student. Classes are more intense and your first lesson with Mattheo ensues.
~∞~ chapter three
chapter summary: the first Hogsmeade trip of the year has a rather unpleasant ending.
~∞~ chapter four
chapter summary: after you end up confined to the Hospital Wing, you're surprised when Professor Dumbledore pays you a visit.
~∞~ chapter five
chapter summary: Mattheo has been avoiding you. You find and confront him after a frustrating week.
~∞~ chapter six **
chapter summary: the growing tension between you and Mattheo snaps. He reveals something about yourself that you has scarcely any prior knowledge of.
~∞~ chapter seven
chapter summary: joyful dinner parties and a switch in point of view. Two juxtaposing starts to the christmas holidays.
~∞~ chapter eight **
chapter summary: you're given plenty of revelations: all equally as daunting as the other.
~∞~ chapter nine
chapter summary: Ginny ambushes you in the library and Ron's birthday is off to a delirious start.
~∞~ chapter ten
chapter summary: in the aftermath of Ron's poisoning, Harry learns a thing or two about where your loyalties lie when he overhears your private conversation with the headmaster.
~∞~ chapter eleven
chapter summary: intent on avoiding him, you underestimate just how desperate Mattheo is to be around you.
~∞~ chapter twelve
chapter summary: new friendships are formed and you finally learn to control your abilities. Mattheo comes to a life altering realisation.
~∞~ chapter thirteen **
chapter summary: idk how to summarise this but i will say it's pure smut...enjoy
~∞~ chapter fourteen
chapter summary: friendships are rekindled and you save Draco from certain death in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, igniting your powers in the process.
~∞~ chapter fifteen
chapter summary: now fully recovered, Draco has a task to complete. The fate of the Wizarding World hangs in the precipice of his actions.
~∞~ chapter sixteen
chapter summary: after a startling and gutting discovery. secrets are revealed and alliances are questioned as Voldemort's tyranny begins to fester into the beginnings of another war.
*invisible string fits into the plot here!!*
~∞~ chapter seventeen
chapter summary: Dumbledore's funeral reveals new allies as you navigate a world without its protector.
~∞~ chapter eighteen (coming soon!!)
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series oneshots/headcannons:
~∞~ tulips & starlight – valentines day drabble
~∞~ serendipity hcs (mattheo) – a glimpse at his life pre sixth year
~∞~ invisible string – bonus scene from chapter 16 **
~∞~ snippets of navigating fifth year with fred weasley
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series taglist:
(striked out users are ones that i couldn't tag, reblogs of the individual posts have an extended taglist)
@camille-1019 @lovelyygirl8 @xluansstuff @babeylover @thejadeazalea @undercover-smutlover @adhxmoony @dreamingofonceuponatime @thepassionatereader @urmomsgayforme5 @aphroditeisamilf @devotedlycrookeddonut @purplegirls-posts @nofacenonamelikekira @foxboyapologist @lafrone @lovely-maryj @nromanovaswife @leeknows-wife @dracygf @wildlyobserving @ravenclawprincess33 @melllinaa @vellicora @lantsovheiress @emiliahoward @stunkbiggu @vcosette @prongsprincessworld @mattiesgirl @rachmmb @x-kermit-x @sun-fiower-seed @cas-planet @certaindreampost @weirdowithnobeardo @mikalovesicecream @sunasbbie @rainy-darling @faeriepigeons @lovely-blackinnon @hiireadstuff @gimalo135 @elsafromcabinsix @moonlightreader649 @blueshome @nopedefe @spencerreidsthings @navs-bhat @agent-tempest @magimtz23 @y0urm0m12 @sbrn0905 @leona-hawthorne @whatsupb18 @moni-cah @taylorann2013 @unstablereader @gisellesprettylies @nat1221
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andvys · 7 days
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Dancing with our hands tied | S.H.
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Chapter seventeen ⭐︎ What am I supposed to do? If there’s no you.
Warnings: slight angst, mentions of unrequited love, mean!robin, slight jealousy, this chapter is mostly written from Robin's pov and there are only a few moments of Steve's and Blondie's pov
Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader
Summary: Robin uncovers Steve's secrets and more... but he doesn't get the reactions from her that he expected.
Word count: 6k+
Author's note: @hellfire--cult and I came up with some new ideas for the story and uh, buckle up and enjoy it... hehehe also thanks for helping me, my love
Series Masterlist ⭐︎ Previous Chapter ⭐︎ Next Chapter
Steve’s smile seems permanent nowadays, never falling, always lingering, even when Keith is scolding him about something he had done wrong or hadn’t done at all. 
His skin is glowing and his eyes are full of happy emotions, he seems giddy, always excited about something. 
Until now, Robin was sure that she had seen him happy before – when he saw her again after she went on a two weeks trip with her mom, when his favorite movie came out and he dragged her to the theater, when he found the perfect brown coat that he had been looking for at every store for weeks. 
And yes, he was happy in these moments, but this, the happiness that is stuck on his face now, is something else, something different, something deep.
And whatever it is that is making him happy, should make her feel the same way, because he is her best friend, and all that she wants for him is exactly this – happiness. But how can she feel any positive emotions, when he is keeping secrets from her? When he isn’t letting her be part of this? When he is cutting her out? 
Robin was always sure that they would never keep secrets from each other, but it’s happening, it’s happening again for her, being pushed aside, being left out, losing a best friend – because this is what it is, right? She is losing him, he is beginning to cut her out of his life, not telling her things he would’ve normally not shut up about, because he talks about everything with her, at least he used to. 
This is how it always begins, this is always the first step of losing a friend. She is no stranger to it. 
But it hurts, it hurts worse than it ever did before. 
Because this is Steve, someone she considers a soulmate. 
Someone she thought would never do this to her. 
“What’s with the grumpy face?” Steve asks, pulling her out of her depressing thoughts. 
Robin raises her eyebrows, looking away from the passing trees, she sinks deeper into the passenger seat and turns her head to look at him, shrugging. 
“Is everything okay?” Steve asks as he glances at her with a look of concern. 
No. 
She should say no and confront him but she doesn’t know how without making things awkward, without pressuring him to talk, without risking losing him sooner than later. 
“Yeah,” she mumbles and reaches for the backpack between her feet, busying herself with it as she rummages through the tiny pockets to find her chapstick. 
“Are you sure?”
She can’t help but roll her eyes at the skeptic tone in his voice, she keeps her head low, gaze locking onto the chapstick she has been looking for, she picks it out and leans back again. 
“Yeah, just tired,” she murmurs. 
Steve keeps glancing back and forth between her and the road, holding the steering wheel tightly as he shoots her a teasing smirk, lowering the volume of the song playing. 
“Long night with Vickie?” 
Her lips twitch and despite the annoyance bubbling inside of her, her cheeks heat up, growing darker until she’s blushing red. She applies her chapstick, welcoming the peach taste on her lips. She can feel his eyes on her, and it only makes her blush deeper as she hides her face from him. 
It confirms his question and it makes him chuckle. 
“I’m glad you’re having fun, Robin.”
“Shut up,” she murmurs under her breath, unable to fight the redness off her cheeks. She closes the chapstick again, putting the cap back into place, she leans down to put it back in her backpack when it falls from her hands and rolls under the seat, making her groan and curse in annoyance. 
“Always turning into a klutz when you’re nervous,” Steve comments, causing her to glare at him. 
“I’m not nervous.”
Steve chuckles, narrowing his eyes at her, “yes you are, I mention Vickie and you’re turning into a blushing, nervous little girl with a first crush even though she is literally your girlfriend.” 
“That is so not true!” She gapes at him, despite it being true. 
He shakes his head in amusement, “yes it is, in case you forgot, you’re my best friend, I know you like the back of my hand and right now, you’re nervous!” 
Maybe his words should put her mind at ease, maybe they should be enough to show her that she is not losing him, after all, but it’s not that easy, is it? 
She only rolls her eyes in response and looks away, turning back to the window and looking out at the downtown streets now. She feels relieved to see the Family Video sign, looking forward to jumping out of his car and throwing herself into work so she can stop thinking about her depressing thoughts and giving into the fears of losing him. 
Maybe she is just overthinking, the way she always does. 
The moment Steve stops the car, Robin gets out and slams the door, opening the one to the backseat so she can look for her chapstick. She leans down and squints her eyes, patting the car mats before she stretches her arm out under the seat, trying to find it. 
Steve walks around the car and stops in front of her, his eyes flash with amusement as he takes in the sight of his best friend, her eyebrows squished together, tongue poking out between her lips, her body angled uncomfortably as she searches for her newest chapstick. 
“I swear to god is there a portal all my chapsticks vanish to?” She grumbles.
Steve snorts at her words, “yeah, I’m sure they all pile up in the upside down somewhere.” 
“I wouldn’t be surprised! Every time I buy a new chapstick it just fucking disappears!” 
“That’s because you leave them everywhere,” Steve chuckles, placing his hands on his hips as he keeps watching instead of helping. His grin grows when she throws the middle finger at him. 
The look of concentration on Robin’s face, transforms into something else, confusion and curiosity, her brows shoot up instead, her lips parting as she reaches for not only her chapstick but also something else, something soft, something lacy. She pulls it out from under the seat, hooking it around her pointer finger, she holds it up in front of her face, examining it before revealing it to Steve. 
A lacy thong. 
One that clearly belongs to a girl. 
One that surely wasn’t there a few weeks back when she helped him clean his car. 
So her suspicions weren’t right, after all – she would’ve been surprised if they were. 
Steve has been so secretive about whoever it is that he is seeing, she knows that they don’t belong to any of the girls he was hooking up with at the beginning of this year, and she doesn’t even need to see his face to confirm something she already knows. 
But if it isn’t one of them and if it isn’t a guy after all, who is he seeing? 
Is it someone he is ashamed of? 
Is that the reason why he is being so secretive, why he keeps sneaking around behind her back and not telling her the truth about something he wouldn’t have shut up about if it were anyone else? 
“Robin?” 
Steve’s voice snaps her out of her thoughts and she slowly turns around to face him, with the thong in one hand and her chapstick in the other. 
His hands fall off his hips, his hazel eyes grow wide, his lips part and his cheeks grow a cherry red when he sees the flimsy material hanging off her finger. 
For a moment, she forgets about his secrets and how much it hurts her that he is hiding from her. The look on his face is so comical, she can’t even help but let the giggles tumble from her lips as she raises back to full height, standing right in front of him as she laughs in his face. 
His cheeks grow redder and redder, making her laugh harder. 
“I-I uh–” Steve stutters, unable to come up with words to say. 
“I-I uh,” Robin mocks him through her giggles, “whose are these?” She asks as she lets them dangle in front of his face, stretching her arm out. 
Steve rolls his eyes at her, his blush continuing to grow beneath her gaze. His shoulders slump and his mind panics as he tries to think of what to say. 
What can he say? 
That these belong to Heidi or Linda or whoever else it was that he had boring sex with before you? 
Steve can’t even bring himself to lie, not even to save himself and you. 
He can’t mention another girl, just uttering these words would make him feel awful. He can’t do it. He just can’t. 
“Hm?” Robin tilts her head, wiggling her brows at him.
As he stands in front of her and he looks into her curious eyes that are layered with something more, he can’t help but wonder what would happen if he just told her. He wants to talk about it, he wants to talk about you, he wants to talk about his feelings that he could only keep to himself so far. 
But what would Robin think knowing how horrible he was to you? How horrible you have both been to each other? 
She would try to talk some sense into him and make him stop this thing between you and he isn’t ready to let this go, he will never be. 
So he turns around and leaves her question unanswered, knowing that she won’t stop until she gets the truth out of him and it makes him nervous but what can he do? 
He doesn’t see the way her shoulders slump, the way her eyes cross with defeat, the way she sighs and looks down. 
“Come on, we got more important things to do then talk about thongs, Robin.” 
“Right,” she murmurs as her teasing smile slowly falls, she throws the black lace back into the car and slams the door before she follows him into the store, staring at his back as she walks behind him. 
Steve greets Keith a little kinder than usual, he walks with his back straight and his head held high, he whistles as he makes his way into the office to clock in and she stays quiet, watching closely, observing him and the fresh hickeys on his neck, the ones that haven’t been there yesterday afternoon when he dropped her off at Vickie’s. It’s always the same exact spot, sometimes his neck is littered in them but there is always that one special spot that never misses the mark on his skin, that little spot behind his ear. 
That’s how she knows that it’s only one girl that he is seeing and she is also the reason why he is turning down all the others that have been shooting their sickly sweet smiles at him. Something he wouldn’t have done a few months back. 
“Are you bringing Vickie tonight?” Steve asks as he throws on his vest, “to game night, I mean?” 
Robin furrows her brows, looking over her shoulder at him, “game night? I figured we’d never do that again after what happened with you and uh… Blondie,” she chuckles nervously. 
Something in his eyes shifts, something in his demeanor changes for a moment. Sadness, anger and regret crosses his features and she sees it all so clearly but she isn’t surprised, she didn’t mean to strike a nerve but she knows she did. 
He felt awful after the words he threw at you, that night. 
And knowing him, he still feels the same even when you get along now. 
But there is something else in his eyes, something she can’t figure out yet. 
Steve breaks eye contact and he scratches the back of his neck as he keeps his eyes trained on the ground. 
“I uh, yeah that will never happen again.” 
She doesn’t quite understand the meaning his words hold. 
And at that time, she also doesn’t know yet, that only a few hours later, she will finally get closer to the answers she has been seeking, that her eyes will be more open to what is happening right in front of her nose. 
Because that night, she notices something she hasn’t paid much attention to before but a feeling inside of her, tells her that she should have done that a long time ago. 
And maybe, maybe she is just seeing things that aren’t there, that her eyes betray her and want to give her something just so she can put her mind to rest but even after rubbing her eyes, even after squinting and trying to see with a clear mind, the sight in front of her is still there and very much real.
The noises from the living room, the chatter of her friends and the giggles of her girlfriend as Dustin tells her a story, fade into distance as she steps closer and closer to the kitchen where Steve had disappeared to, moments after you have left the living room to get another drink. 
You’re standing by the window, face to face and way too close for two people who couldn’t even be near each other, a few months ago. A smile is resting on your face, matching his own. 
Steve leans closer to you, whispering words that Robin can’t make out from this distance and it annoys her to no end because she wants to know what he said to you, what exactly made you giggle in a way she never heard you do. 
This is strange, this is so very strange – it shouldn’t be, and maybe she wouldn’t even think anything of it had you not been fighting all the time not too long ago, because after all, you two could be just friends who are gossiping about something, the hushed whispers and the amused giggles indicate it at least. 
But you aren’t friends, are you? 
You are still just Steve and Blondie, forced to be around each other because of your mutual friends, forced to get along to keep the peace. 
But maybe things are changing, maybe you are actually getting along now and not because of her or Eddie or even the teens, maybe you are just becoming friends, actual friends.
This is the only explanation to what she is seeing. 
Anything else would just be… unbelievable. 
And still, she decides to keep a closer eye on Steve and you. 
Her suspicions and thoughts she deemed as ‘crazy’ become less and less crazy as time passes and she continues to pay attention to you both, how you talk to each other, how you act around each other, how you look at each other, how Steve behaves when he is around you. 
It’s so obvious and it’s so right in front of everyone’s faces and still, she doubts that her suspicions hold any meaning, too insane are the thoughts in her head. 
But then the signs start showing – from the pink scrunchie in his car, to the cherry chapstick on his nightstand and the second toothbrush in his bathroom, from the perfume that always lingers on his clothes to the cologne on yours, from the moments you are both not around to the lies he speaks into the phone when she asks why he didn’t come to movie night at Eddie’s place. 
And as she grows more aware of his weird behavior and yours, she also notices that there is someone else who is acting differently – Eddie. 
She notices the way he looks at you and Steve, the way the latter is getting warning glances and glares, the way you are getting soft ones filled with pity and it confirms it all to her. 
You are Steve’s mystery girl. 
Eddie knows, why can’t she know? 
Does Steve feel embarrassed about you and your shared history of hatred? 
Questions keep piling up in her brain and instead of confronting her best friend about it all, she keeps it all to herself, hoping that she won’t have to confront him at all, hoping for him to tell her about it all when he feels comfortable to, hoping that nothing changed between them, that she is still his best friend, that he will still talk to her. 
But her wishes don’t come true, Steve doesn’t make the first move, he continues on with the secrets and the lies, he doesn’t notice the implies that she makes when she asks him what he is doing on evenings he isn’t with her and the group, or the way she subtly begins to mention you. 
She doesn’t even need the confirmation anymore as days continue to pass, she figures it out on her own, she knows for sure now, her suspicions are no longer… suspicions. And yet, a certain moment, a certain sight that plays right in front of her, still shocks her. 
In Hopper’s backyard is where you all find yourselves on a warm Saturday evening, the chatter is loud and the laughter echoes through the garden. The smell of freshly cut grass lingers in the air, as does the smell of sizzling meat from the grill. 
Eddie brought Wayne with him, the older man chuckling at his nephew as he watches him stuffing his face with burgers, continuously complimenting Hopper’s ‘cooking’ skills to which the latter laughs. 
Robin snorts at Eddie, she can’t tell whether he’s high or just really hungry but the faded look in his eyes gives him away, she blames Argyle for that. 
“You should try his waffles!” El grins at Eddie, “Hop makes the best ones!” 
“You mean the waffles he pops in the toaster?” Jonathan snorts beside her, making his stepdad chuckle. 
“I mean, he puts a lot of stuff on them, it’s really good! Reeses pieces, sprinkles, heavy cream–”
“Ew,” Mike scrunches his nose, shaking his head at his girlfriend, “that’s too much.” 
“Says the boy who puts maple syrup on his scrambled eggs,” Nancy laughs at her brother. 
“Of course he does, Mike has the worst taste,” Dustin snickers before he takes a bite of his steak. “He also loves raisin cookies!” 
“What’s wrong with raisin cookies?” Hopper asks mid chew, furrowing his brows at the teenage boy. 
“Do not insult his raisin cookies,” Joyce points with a fork at Dustin, an amused smile appearing on her face. 
“Oh,” Dustin frowns at the former chief, “you don’t have taste either, damn.” 
While everyone watches the interaction between Dustin and Hopper, amused by the teenage boy and his harmless insults as his conversation with the older man continues. Robin nearly misses the whispers between you and Steve, the smile on your face as you say something to him that she can’t read on your lips. 
You sit next to each other, very closely so. 
It’s the same seats you sat in when Hopper and Joyce announced their engagement here, only this time, neither of you seems tense, you’re both relaxed, your features are soft, your smiles are real, your arms are touching and you aren’t avoiding each other the way you once did. 
The pink scrunchie is in your hair, your lips are rosy red, from the cherry chapstick no doubt. Your eyes are glinting with happiness and it seems like a rare sight to Robin – she has seen you smile before, sure, but she had never seen you happy. 
While she paid extremely close attention to her best friend, she didn’t really look closely at you, maybe she should have before. 
She watches the way you push your plate away, leaving a few bites that you can’t seem to finish, you reach for your drink and lean back in your seat, placing your hand on your stomach. 
Robin chews on her veggies, tilting her head as she tries to not make her staring too obvious but it’s difficult to look away from the both of you, especially when Steve does something that makes her eyes widen and her brows furrow in confusion. 
If there is something that Steve always hated, then it was eating leftovers from someone else, he wouldn’t even share a drink or bite into something someone else had bitten into before and yet here he is eating the food you didn’t finish, eating the steak from your plate and you don’t even seem fazed by it, it’s almost as though it’s the most normal thing for you both, like this isn’t weird. 
And she isn’t the only one who is staring in surprise, Eddie is looking at Steve with his big brown eyes. 
Neither of you seem to notice and everyone else is too busy watching Dustin bicker with Hopper to notice her and Eddie’s wide eyes or the very couply behavior from you both. 
One look under the table after accidentally dropping her napkin to the ground gives her the final confirmation when her eyes fall on Steve’s hand on your thigh and yours covering his own, your fingers playing with his. 
Oh. Oh. 
Maybe this should make her feel more surprised than it does, but really, the sight of Steve eating food from your plate nearly knocked her off her chair. 
She is confused, so very confused and lost. 
And more questions than ever before start running through her mind, nearly giving her a whiplash because it’s just too many at once and she doesn’t know how to deal with them, how to keep them to herself, they are starting to boil over and it prompts her to make a decision. 
She’s had enough of his lies and his secrets. 
She never kept anything from him, he never kept anything from her until this, until you. The sight of you suddenly fills her with anger, something she hadn’t felt before, especially not when it came to you. 
You are the reason why her best friend is slipping through her fingers, why isn’t spending time with her the way he did before, why he isn’t talking to her. 
And despite the growing rage you’re firing up inside of her, she can’t look away from you, watching how you whisper into his ear, watching the way you laugh with Eddie and Wayne, the way you help Joyce clean up and chat with Nancy, the way you hug El and Will goodbye and Max too before she hops on the back of Lucas’s bike and leaves with him and Dustin. 
She almost wants to scoff when you get in the backseat of Steve’s car instead of the passenger seat that clearly belongs to you now, you leave your scrunchies here and your lipgloss apparently too as she looks down into the cupholder, rolling her eyes at the tiny bottle. 
The sound of your laughter makes her eyes roll more intensely. Eddie jumps in beside you, neither of you are aware of the scowl on her face. 
Steve notices though, but he doesn’t bring it up, not wanting to make her uncomfortable by asking any questions she might not want to answer in front of you and Eddie. She won’t even look at him, her eyes are glued on her rings as her fingers tap against her jean clad thighs, her jaw is clenched and he can practically feel the tension in her shoulders. 
And it doesn’t go away, not even when he turns her favorite music on, not when he tries to crack a joke, nothing seems to lift her mood these days, and it worries him. 
When he stops the car in your driveway, Eddie is the first to get out, clapping his hand on Steve’s shoulder and mumbling a goodbye to him and Robin. You follow suit, smiling at them both before your sneakers hit the cobblestones and you get out as well, about to shut the door when Robin’s voice stops you. 
“Hey, Blondie.” 
The tone in her voice is a mocking one, she only uses Steve’s nickname to tease you with it, but this sounds like something else. 
You poke your head back into the car, eyeing Steve’s side profile before you train your eyes on his best friend, who is now looking back at you with a look in her eyes that is sending chills down your spine. 
“Hmm?”
“Are you spending the night at Steve’s tonight?” 
Your heart stops beating and your breathing stutters in your throat, your eyes grow wide just like Steve’s do. The chills that her looks just caused, running down your whole body and filling you with shock. 
She raises her eyebrows at you, giving you a mocking smile. 
Eddie stands behind you, frozen just like you are. 
Steve holds the steering wheel tightly, staring at his best friend with a pounding heart – he knew she would figure it out, that it would only be a matter of time after what she had found in his car. 
A sigh falls from his lips and he begins to curse at himself inwardly, feeling guilt rushing through him for lying to her, for putting you into this position, he can see the fear in your eyes and he doesn’t quite know what it means, but it makes him want to protect you from the anger in Robin’s features. 
“Robs–”
“If you are, I’m sorry but I need to talk to my best friend tonight… if we are still considered that,” she snaps at you, catching you off guard once again when she turns around after cursing you with a glare. 
Steve furrows his brows at her, pursing his lips as he shakes his head a little. 
“Sweets,” Eddie mumbles behind you, clasping a gentle hand around your elbow, “come on.” 
You blink, nodding to yourself as you gulp down the nervousness. 
Steve looks back at you before you can leave and close the door, you see the way his eyes soften when they meet your own, the way his lips twitch and he tilts his head at you, mouthing a few simple words at you, ones that are enough to give you a sense of comfort after this. 
‘It’s gonna be okay.’
It’s not just a few words, it’s a promise. 
And for some reason, you find it easy to believe, despite the nervousness in your stomach. 
Before you can say anything to him, before you can mouth something back to him, Eddie pulls you away from the car and shuts the door after Robin tells Steve to drive. 
Your best friend puts a comforting hand on your shoulder, eying your worried expression as you watch the burgundy car leave your driveway, speeding down the road and getting lost in the distance. 
A heavy sigh falls from your lips and you bring your hand up towards your face, biting your thumbnail in anxiousness. You turn around to face Eddie, seeing his face so clear despite the darkening night sky. 
He nods at you, “it’s gonna be alright, Robin is just mad, I was mad too, sweetheart… remember that.”
“Yeah but–”
“No buts,” he shakes his head at you, “I don’t– I don’t know where you two are going with this but, I didn’t make you stop, she won’t either.” 
Eddie doesn’t know why he is even encouraging this, knowing very well how badly this could end for you, but the need to comfort you feels so much stronger than thinking logically. 
“Yeah,” you whisper. 
He is right, you know he is. 
You were anxious about losing him before, thinking that Steve might want to stop seeing you after Eddie found out – but he didn’t want to stop, he might not want to stop now either, maybe things will just go back to normal after this night, you won’t let a moment like this crush the hope that has been spreading inside of you in the past weeks. 
You are the only one for Steve, right now, he told you so. 
And there has to be a reason for it. 
The hope in you, isn’t for nothing… right? 
You won’t let Robin take that away from you. 
Eddie’s brown eyes soften even further, he wraps his arm around you and starts leading you to your house, “now come on, we’ll get that ice cream pint from your freezer and watch some movies until we crash out on your couch.” 
You smile at him, feeling grateful to have him here with you. 
“I gotta thank Buckley for ruining your date night with Harrington, I missed our slumber parties.” 
You chuckle, despite the uneasiness in your stomach. 
“I missed them too, Eds.”
-
The tension in the car is so much stronger, so much bigger than it was before because now he knows why Robin was acting so weird, why she always seemed so annoyed and hurt, and he understands it, he really does, but he had his reasons to keep this all a secret from her, yet it does nothing to mend the guilt that spreads through his body. 
He lied to her and the upcoming conversation at his house already fills him with so much nervousness that it makes him grip the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles turn white. 
Is this the moment where he will lose his best friend? He wonders. 
You didn’t lose Eddie, even though he seemed hurt about your secrets too, you talked it out and everything went back to normal – you didn’t lose Eddie and you didn’t stop seeing him. 
But Robin’s reaction already seems so much worse than Eddie’s, she seems much angrier, much more hurt and the way she looked at you, even made him cower in his seat. 
Was that jealousy on her face before? 
Does she think that you took her spot in his life? 
He parks the car and wastes no second to get out, taking a deep breath of the fresh air he is surrounded by now. He wants to stay here for a moment but Robin has other things in mind. She angrily makes her way up to his front door, marching up the stairs and waiting for him to follow and unlock the door – with a sigh, he complies. 
His hands shake a little as he looks for the house key on his chain, he brushes past her and keeps his gaze down, licking his lips and clearing his throat as he prepares for whatever she is about to hit him with. 
He wanted her to know, he really did, he had been dying to talk to someone about it but he couldn’t risk losing this, losing… you. 
He steps into his home but doesn’t know which way to go, which way to turn to as the gnawing feeling in his chest begins to eat at him.
Steve throws the keys on the counter and turns on the light, flinching a little when she slams the door, he runs his fingers through his hair and turns around to face her. 
He is met by her glare, an unimpressed expression resting on her features as she stands by the door, with her arms crossed over her chest. 
“Do you want something to drink–”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” She interrupts him, showing a sliver of hurt when those words fall from her lips. 
Steve opens his mouth to speak, but she doesn’t let him. 
“I thought I was your best friend,” Robin mumbles with a hurt tone in her voice. 
The tension in his shoulders grows as the need to prove to her that she is still what she always was to him turns him desperate. 
“You are! You are my best friend, Robin!” 
Robin snorts and rolls her eyes at him, “mhm sure, doesn’t seem like it anymore, best friends don’t keep secrets from each other, Dingus!” 
How can he tell her that this is exactly what keeps you both together? 
That the secrets are the only thing making you his? 
Robin’s blue eyes are filled with nothing but rage and as she stares at the man she loves like a brother, she can’t help but scoff. 
“I can’t believe Blondie’s pussy is more important than our friendship.” 
Anger flashes in Steve’s eyes, the mocking tone in her voice makes him frown. 
“What the hell is your problem?” Steve asks in disbelief, not knowing this side of her, this snappy and rude behavior is something new to him. 
Her blue eyes widen and she laughs at him, letting her arms fall to her sides, “my problem is that you were both complete assholes to each other, in front of everyone! And suddenly you start dropping friends – your best friend to be with a girl that you hated! Should I count down all the horrible things you have said about her?” She yells, throwing her arms up. “Or better yet let’s talk about all the horrible things she said to you.” 
“Don’t.” Steve warns her, not wanting to be reminded of his past mistakes. He doesn’t even care about the words you once threw at him, none of them came even close to the hurtful things he said to your face and behind your back, to Tommy and Carol, to Nancy and the teens, to Robin – he can’t forgive himself for it.
Robin buries her hands in her hair, looking at him wide eyed as she laughs again, though not in amusement. 
He understands her hurt, he understands her disapproval of the lies and the secrets but he doesn’t understand her anger towards you. He thought she liked you, he thought you both were getting along. 
“How long has this been going on for?” 
Steve closes his eyes, taking a deep breath as he places his hands on his hips. 
He doesn’t need to think about it, he knows exactly how many days and weeks have passed since you started seeing each other. 
“A little over two months.” 
Robin nods with widened eyes, a breathy chuckle falling from her lips before she starts shaking her head, “wow.” 
“Eddie found out by himself, just like you did… we weren’t going to–”
“Tell anyone? Why not?” She asks, growing suspicious of the shakiness in his voice and the panicked look on his face. 
“Because, Robin, it's just… sex!” He says in frustration, like those words are meant to convince her but she can tell that he is struggling and it raises different types of questions in her head. “At least that’s what it was supposed to be…”
He had meaningless relationships and flings before, he felt conflicted about girls and sex a few times but she never saw him like this, so panicked and anxious, so defensive about a girl he once couldn’t stand. 
So she lets the questions tumble from her mouth, pushing him into giving her the answers that she wants and she watches his reactions closely, the way his brows pinch together as his patience starts to wear thin, as the desperation and the frustration clings to his features and his cheeks grow red. 
She can tell that he is trying to keep something to himself but that he is beginning to struggle, it’s going to burst out of him soon enough. 
“What’s your problem with her anyways?” Steve snaps at her, shaking his head in confusion. “I thought you liked her!” 
Yeah, Robin did like you but something about you makes her blood boil now. Those Friday nights Steve never missed to spend with her, slowly stopped. Those small little out of nowhere car rides to the stores in town, or little escapades to the city never happened again. She might have become friends with everyone else in the group… but no one understood her like Steve had. 
And now she knows the reason for her loss… had been you. A person who does not deserve Steve, not even as a friend, not after the past you two had.
“Why are you so defensive about her? I mean are we talking about the same person? She’s had called you so many fucking things in the past, and – being her friend? I might have accepted, now just fucking her!? With what purpose!?”
“There’s no purpose when it comes to that, Robin. It’s just sex and you are over fucking exaggerating!” Steve’s face was getting redder, darker, and his chest was working faster as it took in quicker breaths.
“Over exaggerating!? Well, I am sorry for voicing out the fact you and I have not been hanging out like we always have! All for a girl you hated and she hated you back! And let’s not mention that she is in the same fucking friend group Steve!” She yells at him, taking him aback slightly, “What’s going to happen when you break things off!?”
And he can only blink a few times, gulp, look at her and try to process her words. He slowly shakes his head, making Robin’s tilt to the side in confusion. 
“I am not planning on breaking things off, Robs.” And his answer only angers Robin, because she knows he is a few words away from saying what she thought he was feeling. That he likes you. That he got hooked. Stupidly so.
“Oh, so I guess the sex with her is fucking phenomenal then! Didn’t think Blondie had it in her–”
And Steve explodes. 
“I want her, Robin!” He yells as the truth begins to leave the sacred place inside of him and he can finally speak them into existence. “For fucks sake, after Nancy I never thought I would feel anything of the sort again, and she makes it feel right! All of it! I don’t want her to leave, to leave this, to leave me! I don’t know what you want me to fucking tell you! What else do you expect from me!? To tell you that I’m in love with her!?”
His voice echoes through the hallway and then, silence. 
Nothing but utter silence follows. 
Two pairs of shocked eyes staring into each other. 
His heavy breathing stops and his heart does too for a moment. 
Steve knew it, he knew he was falling for you, that he fell for you and despite it, he wasn’t aware just how bad it had gotten him already, that it was more than feelings, more than a crush, it’s love.
Realization begins to dawn on him and he breaks eye contact and looks away from Robin’s stunned face and focuses his eyes on nothing in particular as he looks at the ground. 
“Holy shit, Steve…” Robin mumbles as her angry eyes soften and sadness and pity takes over, only for him. 
She expected everything but this. 
From the moment she figured it out, she knew that there was more than sex, but she didn’t think that there was this. That his feelings run so deep, that love of all emotions is involved.
“I-I’m… in love with her,” Steve murmurs not to her but to himself. 
Robin can’t tell what he is feeling, knowing that he has only figured it out himself. 
But she knows what she is feeling. 
Out of all the nice girls he could have, it just had to be you. 
A girl incapable of love. 
A girl who will only be another on his list to break his heart, to make him suffer and leave him in tears. 
She won’t let that happen, she won’t let him get his heart broken again, especially not by you. 
But how will she do that? 
There’s shock on his face but happiness in his eyes, his lips twitch and curl into a smile as he lets himself fall into emotions he thought he’d never feel again. 
He is hopeless, as he looks back up at her and she sees the gone look in his eyes, she knows he is hopeless and done for. 
“Fuck… I’m in love with her.” 
tagging friends and mutuals
@prettyboyeddiemunson @taintedcigs @mysticmunson @corrodedcorpses @maroon-cardigan @thecreelhouse @ibellcipem @joekeerysmoles @munsonlore @sherrylyn0628 @munson-mjstan @agirlwholovesrockstars
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shuaflix · 1 year
Text
my guardian demon sucks at his job (not clickbait)
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❝ look, i accidentally summoned jeonghan from my statistics textbook the day before you met him at the olive garden. ❞
PAIRING ▸ demon!yoon jeonghan x fem!reader
GENRES ▸ smut, fluff, humor, angst, supernatural, demon au
WARNINGS ▸ not so biblically accurate, profanity, slowburn, found family, inspirations from mythology and h. p. lovecraft, lots of banter, alcohol consumption, sexual tension, teasing, dirty talk, oral (fem. receiving), fingering, palming, unprotected sex (wrap before you tap), mc is painfully horny, ft. demon!shua and demon!wonwoo 
SUMMARY ▸ just when you thought your luck couldn't get any worse, you accidentally manage to summon an ancient demon prince named jeonghan out of a scrap of paper from your statistics textbook. now, you're tasked with figuring out how to return your so-called "guardian demon" back to where he came from before he can stir up more trouble.
PLAYLIST ▸ our dawn is hotter than day by seventeen • cruel summer by taylor swift
WORD COUNT ▸ 23,610 words
TAG LIST ▸ @byunfirstlady​ @90s-belladonna​ @knucklesdeepmingi​ @xlovette​ @variety-is-the-joy-of-life​ @hatesbutlovespeople7734​ @goquokka​
AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ i had so much fun writing this so i hope you guys enjoy this one!! thank you so much for supporting my works ♡ lmk what u think!
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TO BE FAIR, YOU REALLY DIDN’T EXPECT THE SPELL TO WORK.
You initially thought the scrap of paper you found in your statistics textbook was someone’s torn-up Latin homework. You borrowed the copy from the library earlier in the day, realizing that the only way you would pass your midterm would be if you actually studied. Wedged between the pages of Chapter Three - Linear Regression was the dubious piece of paper.  
You thought nothing of it at first. You turned a blind eye to how it was yellowed due to age, thinking it was just left behind by accident. It didn’t even cross your mind about how strange it was that someone left their Latin homework in a statistics textbook.
There was no real reason why you read the words aloud. You thought it could act as some sort of good luck charm—something that could manifest good grades on your exams—but you ended up with the exact opposite.
The paper started glowing, but it wasn’t bright light; a void of pitch darkness emitted from the scrap instead. Mind you, it was nearly the middle of the night. It was already dark, but your room was starting to look like you had opened up a schism in space.
You dropped the paper in the middle of the room instinctively, hissing lightly at how it nearly froze your fingers off. Your room’s temperature dropped by several degrees, and if you weren’t internally freaking out about the random black hole in the middle of your room, you would have curled up in your blankets.
This was one hell of a karmic retribution for slacking on your work for half the semester.
You could hardly see the paper, but you could see faint smoke coming from the middle of the source. It seeped along your bedroom floor, and you contemplated calling your roommate for help before realizing that you, in fact, had no roommate and lived alone.
From there, the paper seemed to crumple up and dissipate into thin air. Instead, a shadowy figure emerged from the smoke. You were not religious by any means, but you felt like this was probably the best time to start praying to whatever higher power was out there.
Light returned to the room once the darkness and smoke faded away. You could now make out the entity’s figure more clearly, noting how it towered over you with sharp horns sticking out from its tuft of hair. Once you could see well enough to make out its face, you were met with what you thought was a human, though the horns and red eyes were throwing you in for a loop.
Humans often had four different psychological responses to traumatic or stressful experiences:
Fight: facing any perceived threat head-on.
Flight: running away from the perceived threat.
Fawn: resorting to appealing to the perceived threat to avoid potential conflict.
Freeze: being unable to move or act against the perceived threat.
Being the absolute weapon of survival you were, your body chose to freeze.
The thing just stared at you until its mouth stretched into a lazy smirk. “Hey, I’m—”
In seconds, your body moved on its own. As soon as you heard the smallest sound come from the being, you grabbed your backpack that was leaning against your bed frame, and you started swinging at the entity with it.
You chose to fight.
You were no longer useless.
“Ow!” the thing winced, shrinking back with each blow. You were slightly worried about breaking your laptop inside, but you were currently prioritizing your life more. “Cut it out!”
You got a better look at this thing. He was clearly attractive with his strong jawline and dark, sleepy eyes—assuming he was even a dude in the first place. You still kept your guard up around Pretty Boy, though, considering he had just Harry Potter’d his way into your bedroom.
“Who—what are you?” you spluttered, holding your backpack up in a (hopefully) threatening way.
“Me?” Pretty Boy grinned. “I’m your demon.”
What in the Wizards of Waverly Place was this man talking about? You stared blankly at the guy before taking a careful step backward. Of course, there were far too many supernatural elements packed into the last minute for you to completely shut down the idea, but it sounded downright crazy. This was something that only happened in books and movies, and they weren’t supposed to be hot!
“A… a demon? From Hell?”
“Yes, that’s usually where demons tend to be from.”
Great, this “demon” was a smart-ass, too.
“What’s a demon?” you asked. It took you a few moments to realize that you had, in fact, asked an extremely stupid question. Of course you knew what a demon was; you didn’t have to be a religious studies major to know about all the Jesus and Satan lore.
“I’m glad you asked,” said demon started, although he didn’t seem to be glad at all. “There are demons that should be summoned, and there are demons that should not be summoned. Can you guess which one I am?”
“Uh…” You deliberated carefully. “You’re a demon that can be summoned.”
“Wrong!” Pretty Boy answered. “I’m a demon that shouldn’t be summoned, so I need you to explain how on Earth you summoned me.”
“I—I thought you said you were my demon.”
“I am,” he said, “because most demons can only be summoned by their designated human, which you did, but I, of all demons, am not meant to be summoned and trapped in this realm! How in Lucifer’s name did you summon me, human?”
You held up a hand to keep him from charging forward at you. “First of all, my name is Y/N. Shouldn’t you be familiar with your own human’s name? Second of all, what do you mean by ‘designated human’?”
Pretty Boy sighed. “I’m supposed to be your assigned demon.”
You frowned. “Supposed to be?”
“Yeah, sorry, I’ve kind of been neglecting you. Totally forgot your name and everything.” He hummed inquisitively. “Remind me of it again?”
“Y/N,” you repeated carefully, slightly offended. “What the hell is an assigned demon?”
“If I tell you,” he started in a somber tone, and you hung onto every word, worrying at your lip and fearing something dreadful would happen, “then it’s no fun.”
He had to be fucking with you.
“No fun?” you questioned. “Are you kidding?”
“I happen to be very serious,” he answered, “and I’m getting the feeling that you’re a bit of a kill-joy, human.”
“Listen,” you spat, “I have a stats midterm tomorrow, so you better start talking before I get back to studying and ignore you.”
“Fine,” he complied. “Think of it, like… a guardian demon.”
“Damn.” You looked up at him with wide eyes. “If I give you my soul, can you help me pass my midterm?”
“That’s not quite how it works, and I may be a demon, but that’s a pretty stupid request in exchange for your soul,” he deadpanned. “Okay, now tell me how you summoned me.”
Your gaze dropped to the spot on the floor where the black void opened up. You recalled the slip of paper disintegrating into thin air once the demon appeared. You were certain that was the key to this bizarre merging of two realms.
“Uh,” you said, “there was a piece of paper with some Latin written on it. You appeared after I read the words out loud.”
And after turning your room into an arctic tundra.
Pretty Boy’s face fell upon your words. You were shocked that the demon looked so crest-fallen all of a sudden, and it was making you feel a bit guilty for dragging him out of Hell.
You decided to ask, “Are you okay?”
“I am not okay, I am Yoon Jeonghan, one of the seven princes of Hell,” he started angrily, causing you to take a cautious step backward. “I am Greed, the creator of alchemy, forger of the Twin Blade, constructor of the—” The demon cut himself off when you held up a fist to your mouth to keep yourself from laughing. “W-what? What’s so funny, human?”
“I’m sorry,” you apologized quickly, accidentally letting a giggle slip from your lips, “but there’s no way some pretty face like you is a demon prince.”
“I emerged from an opening in the ground, and you still refuse to believe I’m a demon?”
“Well—”
“Human, do you know why a ‘pretty face’ like me is a demon prince?” Pretty Demon Boy a.k.a Jeonghan inquired, stepping closer until you were backed up against your desk. “The King of all demons himself was once considered the most beautiful of all angels. Why?” With three fingers, he tilted your chin up enough for you to take a good look at him—at the swirling dark red in his eyes. “Because demons represent temptation.”
“Temptation,” you echoed, embarrassed that your voice came out more strangled than intended. “Yeah, well, I’m really tempted to kick your ass back to Hell right now.”
You supposed he was onto something, in a sense. Maybe Jeonghan was telling the truth because you couldn’t focus on anything else but how his lips were nearing yours. It was as if your senses had completely clouded over.
Upon your words, however, he dropped his gaze and pulled away from you. Jeonghan looked saddened, which was a sight you had not expected from the smug-faced demon. You weren’t educated on demon lore or anything, but you were quite surprised that they were capable of feeling such human emotions.
“There are ways demons can be summoned,” he said in a somber voice. “If we are summoned by our names, then we can appear and promptly return to Hell. Incantations, though, are tricky; with negligence, there is a possibility that I’m stuck here.”
“Stuck here?” you asked, raising your voice. “What do you mean? You can’t go back?”
“Well, do you remember the words on that piece of paper?”
“No.”
“Then I don’t have a way of going back, dumbass.”
You huffed. “I didn’t know a demon prince could have the vocabulary of a middle school boy.”
“We can speak any language on this planet and adapt to modern slang,” he explained. “I can also speak dolphin. Wanna hear?”
“No, let’s circle back to getting you back to Hell,” you shut him down before he started using echolocation. “There has to be some other way, right?”
“We have a few options, actually,” he said, sitting on the edge of your bed. You cringed at the thought of the intruder making himself at home, but you supposed you were the one who got him in this mess, anyway. It wouldn’t be smart for you to boss him around, especially since he could overtake you easily. “Either you remember the incantation, or… actually, I haven’t thought that far ahead yet.”
“So, we only have one option?” you clarified. “I have the memory of a goldfish, so I think you’re fucked.” You scratched your neck in thought. “Can’t you call one of your demon buddies to bring you back?”
“Demon buddies?” He laughed coldly. “We aren’t exactly buddy-buddy down there.”
“Then why do you wanna go back so bad?”
“This materialized human form of mine will not last me very long,” he replied gravely, though you weren’t quite convinced the horns and red eyes were doing him any favors. “Normally, I could be up here for as long as I want, but my powers are weak right now. I will eventually perish like this, unless…”
“Unless?”
“Unless I kill an angel.”
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After your morbid conversation with Jeonghan, you decided you would deal with the issue after your midterm. The demon insisted that he would not be able to leave your side since you summoned him, so that led to him sleeping on your floor. To your horror, he was pleasantly satisfied with this sleeping arrangement, claiming it was “better than being boiled alive in oil.”
His bedroom in Hell didn’t sound very cozy.
The next morning, you woke to an email notification that your midterm had been canceled. Something about your professor falling sick out of nowhere.
You wanted to rejoice, but you couldn’t help but feel that this was because of Jeonghan. This was probably the whole “guardian demon” thing, but he was causing chaos and disorder to get you what you wanted. It left an uneasy feeling, but, regardless, you were satisfied with not taking an exam.
Anyway, why was Jeonghan, self-proclaimed prince of demons, assigned to be your guardian? When you turned in your bed to see him sitting at your desk and staring at your textbook, you asked him the question that was bugging you.
He scoffed and replied, “I don’t know. Luck?”
You narrowed your eyes. “Is it really lucky that a demon prince was assigned to me? Sounds a little unnerving.”
“That just means you have a powerful demon on your side.” He smirked and leaned in to ask, “Were you happy to see your midterm canceled this morning?”
“So it was you!” you exclaimed. “Look, I appreciate it and everything, but you can’t just make people sick to help me out.”
“I can’t?” He looked surprisingly innocent when you reprimanded him, like a seven-year-old being told not to color on the walls. “I didn’t even murder him or anything.”
“That—that’s also pretty bad,” you stammered. “Let’s not do any of that, okay?”
“But that’s no fun.”
“This isn’t about having fun! These are people’s lives. How would you feel if I harmed one of the other demon princes for fun?”
“That’s hot. I’d probably cum in my pants.”
“Okay, maybe that was a bad example,” you grumbled. “Is there anyone you care about down there?”
“Not down there, not up here,” he replied. “I’m a demon, remember? There’s no one who cares for me, so I don’t care for anyone either.”
“Wow,” you said. “You could be the poster boy for 2012 Tumblr angst.”
“I’ll pretend I understood that, human.”
There was something bothering you, though. Jeonghan’s words last night about killing an angel were parroting in your head. You couldn’t shake off the guilt that he could potentially die on Earth because of you, but it felt immoral to kill an angel to return to his prison in Hell. On the other hand, you couldn’t bear to see him perish because of you.
“How long do you have?” you asked. “You know… to live.”
“Hm… I’d say about 718 years?”
“Oh, what the fuck? You’re chilling.”
“In Hell time.”
You frowned. “How long is that in Earth years?”
Jeonghan’s gaze flew to the ceiling as he tried to calculate the math in his head, using his fingers to count off. “That’s about half an Earth year, so, like, six months.”
“Oh no,” you replied in absolute dread, “and you’re still planning on killing an angel?”
“If that’s the only way to save me—yes.”
“Well, how do you even find one?”
“I can sense their presence,” he said before standing up. “Come on, human. You’ll have to show me around your world so that I can remember the mortal way of life.”
“I guess, but first”—you stopped him by raising your hand—“you’ll have to get rid of those horns.”
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Once Jeonghan concealed his horns and changed his eyes to a more socially acceptable color, you gave him the green light to go outside. He looked good like this, but he was attracting too much attention. The demon simply had too big of an ego to tone down the attractiveness, so you were stuck walking around with a chick magnet.
“You’re a demon,” you whispered harshly. “You’re telling me you don’t have any ugly forms?”
Jeonghan sighed. “That is the unfortunate curse of a demon. We can’t help that our beauty is so blinding.”
You wanted to punch him. The boiling oil prison bed wasn’t a curse, but this was?
“Well, people are staring, and it’s making me uncomfortable. I’ve never been the center of attention—or, well, around the center of attention.”
“Then would you like me to gouge out their eyeballs with a dagger?”
“No!” you yelled. “No, there will be no gouging of eyeballs!”
You started going off on your Murder Is Normally Socially Unacceptable And Wrong tangent up until you realized that Jeonghan was no longer next to you. Fear shot up your spine right before you spotted him standing in front of an Olive Garden that you two had walked past earlier.
“Jeonghan, what are you doing?” you asked, frowning. “Let’s keep walking.”
“Human,” he said, clearly ignoring your words, “take me into this restaurant.”
“You’re hungry?” When he nodded, you sighed and complied, saying, “Alright, then, I’ll pay.”
You were worried that the demon wouldn’t behave properly, but, to your surprise, he stood to the side and let you do the talking. You found his shy smile strangely endearing, especially when he tilted his head after the waitress asked if you two were a couple.
“Yes,” he answered before you could shut it down. “We’ve come in a pair.”
You forced a laugh, glancing at the waitress to make sure she didn’t think you two were absolute nutjobs. Well, you supposed it had no effect on you if your psychotic demon was perceived as one, but you were 100% normal across the board. Thankfully, the waitress laughed it off and asked if either of you wanted anything to drink.
You smiled. “Just water, please.”
“Do you have any blood?” Jeonghan asked at the same time.
Your head shot up to see his furrowed brows as he tried to decipher the Italian dishes on the menu. At this point, you were mortified and could positively say that you were not taking Jeonghan outside after this. You’d rather be stuck in his boiling oil prison than be put through this torment.
“B-Bloody Mary?” the waitress asked.
“Oh, is this Mary providing the blood? I don’t really care to know who exactly she is, but I appreciate the—”
“Yeah, he meant a Bloody Mary,” you cut in loudly, putting on a sugary sweet smile for her. You turned to the demon with a warning look in your eyes, but you kept up the playful act as you chided, “Jeonghan! I told you to quit with the pranks here!”
“Oh, you two are so funny,” the waitress gushed. “I’ll be right back with your drinks.”
“Thank you!” you chirped. When she was out of sight, you dropped your fake smile so you could kick the living crap out of the demon’s shin. He winced and raised a brow at you. “What made you think you could ask for blood at a restaurant?”
Jeonghan scoffed. “I’m a demon.”
“Oh, really? I wouldn’t have guessed from the hundred times you’ve mentioned it.”
“I can’t eat this food.” Jeonghan put the menu down and ran his fingers down the list of options. “Well, I suppose I could stomach it for sustenance, but it won’t satisfy my hunger.”
“Then what do you need to eat?” you asked, expecting to hear something morbid.
“Well, human blood or flesh would help,” he said. Just as you thought—morbid. Then, after a moment of thought, he added, “or… I’d need to have sex.”
“S-sex?!” you exclaimed. You tried not to choke on air, which failed about five seconds later. Never in your life did you expect hellbound demons to be so lecherous. Well, it made perfect sense, but it was still odd to think about. “You’re telling me the only way you can be fed is by cannibalism or sex?”
“Cannibalism is a strong word.”
“Cannibalism is the only word for people who eat other people!”
“I’m not a person,” he defended. “I’m a demon. I believe you humans call this ‘the food cycle,’ am I right?”
You leaned back in your seat to groan into your hands. “I guess we’re just gonna have to find a way to get you back before you get too hungry. How long can you go without food?”
“Probably forever if I was in Hell,” Jeonghan said, “but I feel really hungry.”
“Is this some ulterior motive to get into my pants?”
Jeonghan barked out a laugh. “Human, do you know who the Seven Deadly Sins are?”
“Sort of? I’ve seen the anime.”
“They’re the seven human vices, and I’m Greed,” he explained. “Other than me, there’s Lust, Wrath, Envy, Sloth, Gluttony, and Pride. Many say that Pride is the worst of them all, but I am destructive at every level. Greed is what breaks a person down and then brings them to destroy the world around them.”
His voice was pitched deeper when he continued, “Greed is the sin that can never be satisifed.”
“O-okay,” you said carefully, “so why are you telling me this?”
“I’m telling you this because you’re pretty naive for someone who summoned a demon as powerful as I am,” he replied calmly. “I’m Greed, so of course that was an ulterior motive to get into your pants.”
Oh.
Awkward.
You weren’t sure if you were blushing because Jeonghan was hot or because no man had ever been so direct with you. For what it was worth, you were positive that the warm feeling in your chest wasn’t because you were flattered or anything. Being asked for sex in the middle of a restaurant wasn’t hot in the slightest bit, and especially after he proceeded to mansplain how he was a manipulative, conniving bastard.
“Don’t feel pressured,” he said.
Although those were the words that came out of his mouth, you could feel the impatience seeping from him. However, it had you thinking that this could become some sort of transaction. You would surely feel used if you let him get what he wanted so easily, but you would definitely be swayed if there was something in it for you. Plus, Jeonghan was unmistakably attractive, which was probably simply the devil’s temptation getting to you.
“If I let you satisfy your hunger… um, sexually,” you started, “then I want something in return.”
A mischievous glint flashed in his dark eyes. “Oh? You’re making things fun, human.”
You felt something hot roiling deep inside your core, making you nearly lose your breath for a moment. The effect he had on you was otherworldly. (You supposed this checked out considering he himself was otherworldly.)
Before you could lay down your guidelines, a voice called from behind, “Sorry, your previous waitress had something come up, so I’ll be taking your orders for your meal. My name’s—whoa, Y/N?”
Your eyes widened. “Seokmin! Oh my god, you work here?”
“Yeah, I do,” he said, laughing lightly at your surprise. “Is this your, uh, boyfriend?”
You met Jeonghan’s stare with an awkward smile. “N-no, we’re just friends.”
Seokmin beamed at the demon, who, to your dismay, made no effort to reciprocate. “Nice to meet you. I was in one of Y/N’s classes last semester. Where are you from?”
Jeonghan reached out to shake the hand that Seokmin held out. You knew he was blunt, but you really didn’t expect him to respond by saying, “Hell.”
You were stabbing metaphysical pitchforks into Jeonghan’s side, fighting the urge to groan into your hands. Seokmin let out a stilted laugh, pausing for a moment to give Jeonghan time to clarify. When the demon didn't, however, Seokmin probably determined that Jeonghan was messing with him.
“You’re funny,” he praised with a grin. “Anyway, can I get you two started on anything?”
Seokmin had the brightest smile you had ever seen. In fact, he seemed to glow brighter just by showing his teeth. You were almost blown away for a moment, just looking up at him and trying not to stumble over your words as he set your drinks down.
“Um,” you started after regaining your composure, “I’ll take the stuffed ziti fritta, please.”
Seokmin turned to Jeonghan, who nodded in your direction with a distracted look on his face. “Yeah, I’ll get the same.”
“Great! I’ll bring those over soon.” With that, Seokmin took both of your menus and walked off.
You smiled to yourself. “What a small world.”
“I have to kill him,” Jeonghan muttered at the same time.
“Excuse me?” you nearly cried. “Jeonghan, are you crazy? You can’t just say things like that in public!”
“Why not?”
“People are gonna think you’re a homicidal maniac! Which you are, but… at least pretend to be normal.”
“Whatever, we’re alone now.” He rolled his eyes. “Your little friend has angel blood in him.”
“What? You’re crazy.”
But then, when you took a moment to consider his words, the lines were starting to draw themselves. It was starting to make sense in your head, with Jeonghan randomly stopping in the middle of the street, as if he was drawn to the restaurant. There was also Seokmin, who almost had an aura of light radiating from him.
Of course, there was the possibility that the demon was speaking nonsense and trying to get in your head. It wouldn’t be out of the ordinary for him to deceive you, but there was no reason for him to lie. Jeonghan needed an angel to live longer, so he wouldn’t waste his time dealing with those who weren’t of use.
You asked, “How can you tell if he’s an angel or not?”
“I’m a demon. I can sense these things,” he answered, “but I’m sure you can see some of it, too. You saw how he glowed a bit? Maybe even made you feel a little happy out of nowhere?”
It was true that Seokmin’s smile made you forget all of your worries for a second. You thought his radiance was just contagious, but this sort of made sense now that you were semi-familiar with the supernatural. If angels were able to make people feel contented, though, did that mean demons had the opposite effect?
That could probably explain why Jeonghan got on your nerves so easily.
You leaned over the table a little, whispering, “Wouldn’t he know what you are, then?”
“Doubt he knows it himself. He’s a Quartarion—quarter angel. I bet he doesn’t even know he has wings.”
“So… you can’t use him, right? You need an angel, and he’s mostly human.”
“No, I could kill him, actually,” he replied. “I just need to kill an angel-blood. In fact, killing a Quartarion instead of a pure-blood would make my job a lot easier.”
You felt trapped. It wasn’t like you were in any position to argue about Jeonghan’s decisions, considering it was your fault he was in this state. However, you felt sick to your stomach over getting blood on your hands because of him. Even if you weren’t the one killing Seokmin, it was indirectly your fault.
“You are not killing him,” you said firmly.
“What?” Jeonghan almost sounded like a child. “Not even a little?”
“You can’t kill someone a little.”
“Well, maybe if I sliced his—”
“Okay! Be normal, be normal, be normal,” you chanted, trying to get him to hone in some morals. “No murder, no cannibalism, no—”
“Two stuffed ziti frittas!” Seokmin chirped, shutting you up effectively. You swallowed thickly as he set the plates down in front of you and Jeonghan. “Can I get you two anything else?”
“Yeah, actually,” Jeonghan spoke up, a sly grin spreading across his face, “are you free this week?”
Poor, poor Seokmin, you thought miserably.
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Jeonghan managed to sweet-talk Seokmin into hanging out with you two later in the week. The very idea was absurd, considering you and Seokmin have only spoken about five times. You thought the demon used some sort of demon power to get Seokmin to comply, but Jeonghan later told you that he was just naturally charismatic.
You decided to deal with the Seokmin issue later, though. Now, you had another problem at hand: the proposal you initiated earlier.
Currently, Jeonghan had you pinned up against your door, his head dipping low so that he could look into your eyes despite your efforts to avert your gaze. Jesus, you knew this was a terrible idea, but every nerve in your body was telling you to just go with it.
He hummed. “What was your offer?”
“This isn’t very guardian demon of you,” you squeaked out.
“I just can’t kill you,” he said. “Sex is still on the table.”
This piqued your interest. “Wait… you’re not allowed to kill me?”
That just made you feel like he would’ve murdered you already if he had the chance.
“I could try, but I physically can’t harm you. I can harm others for you, though,” he said. “Now let’s go back to that offer you were going to make.”
“Let me clarify,” he continued, “it’s not the act of intercourse that feeds me, it’s your taste.”
He was basically saying that he needed to eat you out. You would be lying if you said you were opposed to the idea. You weren’t sure if it was the whole devil’s temptation thing or whatever, but you found yourself wanting to just let Jeonghan have his way with you.
You sucked in a sharp breath. Back at the restaurant, you weren’t ready to lay down any guidelines for the exchange. However, it was clear to you now.
“I’ll agree as long as you don’t kill Seokmin.”
The demon pulled away from you, frowning. “Why can’t I kill him?”
“He’s my… friend,” you tried.
“He appears to share a deeper connection with me, a complete stranger, than he does with you, an established acquaintance.”
Okay, ouch. That stung.
“Okay, he’s not really my friend,” you admitted, “but it’ll make me feel really guilty if you kill him. I know you need to kill an angel-blood to get back, but there has to be another way, right?”
Jeonghan’s voice was pitched lower when he said, “I don’t know about that.” Silence hung heavy in the air for a few moments before he spoke up again, “Fine. I’ll accept your offer. I won’t kill Seokmin for now, but I can’t promise that in the future if I’m left with no other choice.”
That was probably the best you were going to get out of him, so you nodded in agreement. “Deal.”
Before the demon could reply, you shimmied down your shorts, kicking them off your ankles, and then you sat back on your bed. You pressed your thighs together, waiting for him to come forward and take the lead.
Jeonghan just stared at you, jaw gone slack.
“What?” you asked with a frown. Slowly, embarrassment started to heat up your cheeks. “You don’t wanna do it anymore?”
“Human, I feel a bit strange doing this with the stuffed animals lined up on your bed.”
“I just had to convince you not to murder my classmate a minute ago, and you draw the line at this?” You sighed in exasperation. “You’re unbelievable, you know that?”
Jeonghan just moved closer until he was right in front of you. He pushed your legs apart, surprisingly gentle, and he reached his hand between your legs so that he could prod at the thin material of your underwear at the apex of your legs. You shivered instantly at his touch, grabbing his sleeve when you felt your core ache for more.
“I don’t know,” he murmured, observing how wet you were getting with his gentle touches. “You seem to enjoy bickering with me a little too much, human.”
“T-that’s ridiculous.”
“Is it?” The question sounded genuine, but the smirk on Jeonghan’s face was unmistakable. You swallowed hard as his free hand traveled up your thigh slowly, inching further and further until he tugged your underwear down past your thighs. You kicked it off your ankles while he started to position you properly on your bed. “What’s ridiculous is having these adorable playthings watching us.”
You turned your head to see your Sanrio MyMelody Squishmallow staring at you with its big, empty eyes and mocking smile. It almost felt like you were being judged by your own plushie.
Okay, you were starting to get why it was capable of freaking a demon out.
You propped yourself up on your forearm and rose up enough to grab your Squishmallow by its bow and turn it around. Now that it was facing the wall, you strangely felt more at ease.
“Okay, now you can go,” you said with a grin.
Jeonghan scoffed, amused. “Thanks.”
“You’re wel—oh,” you moaned, pressing a fist to your mouth when you felt Jeonghan’s tongue work its way between your folds. “Give me a warning next time, damn.”
He paused for a moment to look up at you, mischief twinkling in his dark eyes. “You’re already thinking about the next time, huh?”
“Just shut up and keep doing your thing.” When he raised a brow at you, you added a frantic, “Please?”
This moment may have been the first time Jeonghan had complied so quickly. He got to work right away, gripping your hips and licking a stripe along your cunt. You arched your back once you heard him groan at the taste of your arousal, and the demon had to push you back down to make sure you weren’t fidgeting too much.
You turned your head to the side, digging your chin into the mattress as Jeonghan’s tongue rolled around your clit in torturous motions. You were fighting the urge to cry out in pleasure because you knew you would never hear the end of it from him. Eventually, though, the feeling overtook your pride, and you let yourself moan for more.
Jeonghan was insatiable. That probably came with being a demon, especially when he represented the sin of greed.
But, the thing was, you didn’t expect him to be so mind-blowingly good.
Your sounds must have spurred him because Jeonghan gripped your thighs harder and ate you out with more fervor. It was a back-arching level of pleasure, but he forced you down every time you tried to squirm. When his tongue snaked past your folds, flicking against the walls of your cunt, you truly understood the sheer power of temptation.
Jeonghan didn’t neglect one inch of your core, flattening his tongue so he could cover the surface completely. He switched from plunging his tongue into your cunt to licking long stripes along your slit so quickly that your vision was starting to curl at the edges. You felt like you were going crazy when you grinded your hips against his tongue and felt his smirk.
No man had ever made you feel this good—no, you were positive that no man could ever make you feel this good. Even Jeonghan’s nose brushing against your clit made you feel like you were combusting.
He brought you to the edge so quickly, and you wondered if you had even made yourself orgasm so fast before. The sensation left your legs shaking around his neck and your head turned to the side in a desperate attempt to hold back your moans. You managed to let out strangled whimpers that left Jeonghan chuckling once he pulled away.
You didn’t know what you were expecting, but you felt a touch disappointed when you looked up at him. There was absolutely no hint of a boner tenting his pants.
“I’d ask,” Jeonghan started with a smirk, “but I can already tell you liked it by the way you were moaning for me.”
You raised yourself onto your elbows, huffing a little. “What about you? Are your powers back now?”
“It doesn’t exactly work like that.” Jeonghan patted his stomach, satisfied. “I’m full, though.”
“Interesting.” You left it there, not wanting to divulge further into his demon diet. “So, you don’t ever have sex for pleasure? Just when you’re hungry?”
“I don’t care for pleasure all that much.”
“Figured,” you mumbled. “Anyway, I’m going to sleep.”
“Already?”
“Yeah, I’m tired. Wake me up in a few hours if I’m not already up.”
“Sure. I’ll go do human things and not kill people.”
“Keep up the good work.”
When Jeonghan left your room, you pulled the covers up to your chin and let out a long sigh. The feeling was fleeting, but long enough for you to take notice. A gentle quickening of your heartbeat and a warm feeling in your chest.
You pushed it down as a brief moment of confusion.
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Living with Jeonghan felt like having a guard dog that you kept off its leash.
Not only did you have to stop him from attempting murder on several occasions, but, on the flip side, you also had to warn him about being too nice to make up for his twisted imagination. Jeonghan was far too attractive to be human, and from the numerous times you went outside with him, you realized that he drew too much attention. You were left standing to the side idly while he was chatted up by the umpteenth random girl that wanted his number.
Over the past week, you ended up explaining a lot of things to the demon. Going into depth about the criminal justice system was your favorite because Jeonghan looked flabbergasted by the levels of punishment they had.
(“A six month sentence for theft?” he asked with a frown. “That’s absurd. I got eternity in Hell while being boiled alive in oil!”
“Well, what was your crime?” you asked.
“Uh…”)
Once, you even found him staring at the TV screen with a somber expression on his face. You had never seen Jeonghan so visibly upset, so you asked him what was going on, only to be even more confused when he explained that his pet died. You suspected the demon’s pet to be a hellhound or something. Never did you expect him to pull up a picture of Mount Fuji.
(“His name was Doljjong,” he explained sadly. “He was only 1,359 years old when he erupted for the last time.”
Apparently, Mount Fuji was now extinct. In Jeonghan’s crazy demon lingo, that meant it died.
“You basically had a pet rock, dude.”
“He was more than a rock in my heart.”)
You also had to adjust to living with another man in the house. Thankfully, Jeonghan wasn’t messy or as disgusting as you had expected, but you still had to adjust to some of his living habits that took you by surprise.
For one, Jeonghan preferred showering in scorching hot water. This would not bother you if you hadn’t been dragged into the shower with him on one occasion, which he didn’t seem to think was improper at all. While you were trying not to look at his (beautifully-chiseled) naked body, he was urging you to help him turn down the cold water. As soon as your skin made contact with the water, though, you couldn’t stand the scalding heat.
Strangely enough, although the thought of having a demon in your house terrified you, it was kind of fun to live with him. You liked having someone around that could keep up with your antics, someone who challenged your thirst for argument. Jeonghan was the perfect match for you, and maybe that was why he was your assigned demon.
You finally decided to give him your old phone. It was supposed to be a hand-me-down for your younger brother, but your parents ended up getting him a new one. Since Jeonghan was pretty much ancient, you figured he wouldn’t mind an old phone.
“I want an iPhone 14 Pro Max.”
“What?!” you exclaimed as he took the used iPhone 8 from you, inspecting the home button with a frown. “How do you even know what that is?”
“I wasn’t born yesterday, human.” He scoffed. “I don’t care for outdated possessions.”
Oh, right. Greed.
“Well, if you’re gonna live in my house, then you’re gonna learn to be grateful for what you’ve got.”
“Wait.” Jeonghan paused, looking between you and the phone about three times before he asked, “Can I contact Seokmin with this?”
“Uh, yeah, but—”
“Give me his number,” the demon insisted.
“Jeonghan! You said you weren’t going to kill him!”
“I never said I was going to kill him,” he said, “but I did invite him to hang out, so I should follow up on the offer. Didn’t you tell me that keeping promises is important?”
Ah, right. He was using one of the rules from Y/N’s Guide To Being Human against you. You saw this coming, though; you were no stranger to Jeonghan’s manipulation tactics by now.
“Keeping promises are important, but leading someone on is also wrong,” you chided. “Do not text him if you plan on hurting him in any way.”
He let out a petulant whine before agreeing, “Okay, okay, I won’t.” He thrusted the phone in your direction. “Give me his number, though.”
You bit your lip before you complied. “Fine.”
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A few days later, when you had just gotten back from getting lunch with your best friend, Park Sooyoung, you entered your apartment to see Seokmin sitting on the couch.
“Oh!” you exclaimed. You were so startled that you couldn’t even process how furious you were with Jeonghan for inviting him without informing you. “Hey, Seokmin. What’re you doing here?”
The older boy flashed a kind smile. “Sorry to intrude. Jeonghan invited me. I think he’s in the bathroom right now.” He pointed in the direction of where Jeonghan went, and then he said, “I had no idea you two were roommates!”
You recalled last week when you asked Jeonghan if demons had to use the bathroom like humans did. For some reason, you couldn’t imagine it at all. The demon answered that he didn’t have to do such things in his own dimension, but his body was subjected to the same biological system as humans on Earth.
“Ah, yes. Roommates.” You forced a laugh, trying to not sound bitter. So that was the narrative Jeonghan cooked up. Honestly, you were just glad he said something normal. “He didn’t tell me you were coming over.”
“Ah, speak of the devil,” Seokmin said.
Meanwhile, it was just Jeonghan. Well, on second thought, he was kind of right.
“What’re you doing at home?” the demon asked, sounding more accusatory than welcoming. “I thought you were getting lunch with your friend.”
“And we finished lunch,” you answered. “What’re you and Seokmin doing?”
“We were gonna watch a movie,” he said. “The Notebook, I think?”
Your anger fizzled. Now, you felt like you were interrupting something.
“Do you wanna watch it with us, Y/N?” Seokmin asked, voice all sugary and light.
You found it way too hard to refuse him, so you sat down on the couch next to Jeonghan. Every time Seokmin spoke, you felt your nerves ease up. However, coupled with Jeonghan’s presence, you were undergoing a never-ending state of easing and tensing up again.
“By the way, why’d you guys pick The Notebook?” you inquired.
“Oh, ‘cause Jeonghan hasn’t seen it yet,” Seokmin replied, looking distracted as the film started playing.
Jeonghan hadn’t seen a lot of movies. It wasn’t like there were limited options to choose from.
Thankfully, the lights were off while the movie played, masking how bored you looked for its duration. You were convinced Jeonghan wasn’t enjoying it either considering he started up about ten different conversations unrelated to the movie. Seokmin, being the sweetheart he was, responded to him enthusiastically as he watched. You, on the other hand, were sulking on the other side of the couch and praying for this to be over because you felt like a third wheel.
You almost didn’t notice the mood shift when the kissing scene came up. Seokmin seemed to feel a bit awkward, so he laughed and made lighthearted remarks throughout the scene. You had stiffened up and lowered your gaze, remembering once again why this was an odd choice for a movie night.
Jeonghan, though, turned his gaze to you for the duration of the scene. You could feel his eyes drift to your lips, and it made you hyperconscious of every little movement of his. Your heart was pounding so loudly that you were praying no one else could hear it, and the blood rushing in your ears drowned out the audio from the movie.
The demon dipped his head to whisper in your ear, “Frankly, human, I’m enjoying your reactions more than this movie.”
You had no idea why, but you felt something unsettling in your chest. Your heart felt like it was going a hundred miles a minute, but not in a good way; the organ twisted painfully in your chest.
You had no idea why.
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Seokmin came around a few more times over the next four weeks. You found yourself feeling less like a third wheel over time, and you were finally comfortable hanging around the both of them. Movie nights became more common, although The Notebook seemed to be so traumatizing that Seokmin and Jeonghan only watched horror and sci-fi movies now.
You were honestly surprised that Jeonghan hadn’t made any moves to kill Seokmin, but you were happy that he honored your agreement. The two of you had gotten closer—or, well, as close as a demon and a human could get. He still called you “human,” but you were banking on him calling you by your name at least once. Moreover, Jeonghan wasn’t completely convincing just yet, but he was starting to learn how to act like a proper human. (There were the occasional murder threats that you had to fend off, though.)
Jeonghan found himself between your legs nearly every other day. You feared that you would get too comfortable, but he still made you orgasm every single time. It was strange, to say the least. You knew demons weren’t capable of feeling anything remotely romantic, but your heart was still acting like a fool, twisting painfully whenever he pulled away.
Today, Jeonghan had followed you to the library. He met your friend, Sooyoung, who kept gushing earlier about how she was dying to meet your new “friend.” The rest of the day went smoothly, save for Sooyoung asking you and Jeonghan if you’ve ever made out. (You shut her up with a smack upside her head.)
Back at home, Jeonghan, who was sitting on the floor with his back against the couch, leaned his head back to look up at you. You found it strangely endearing, resisting the urge to run your hands through his soft hair.
“Did I do good today?” he asked.
“Yeah,” you said, “you were like a proper human—no weird demonic antics or anything.”
Jeonghan lifted his head up again, and then asked in a quiet voice, “Human, could I perhaps try something?”
The demon was asking you for permission? Strange, but you went along with it.
“Hm? What is it?”
“Let me try kissing you,” he said. His words were so clear that you couldn’t even pass them off as something you misheard. You only managed to let out a few incoherent stammers before he added, “Move your laptop. I’m getting on top of you.”
“Y-you didn’t even ask me!” you stuttered, although you were putting your stuff to the side as you spoke. “Is this about what Sooyoung asked? About if we’ve made out?”
“I’m asking you right now: yes or no?”
You frowned. It was as if all your nerves were cut wire, electrifying every limb in your body. Even though you couldn’t comprehend what came over Jeonghan and what possessed him to ask, your brain was screaming at you to just accept his offer.
“Fine, go ahead,” you murmured, feeling your face go hot when he smirked right after.
“Good,” he said. “Thank you for being my experiment.”
You couldn’t ask any further questions because Jeonghan already started moving on top of you, straddling your lap and placing his hands firmly on either side of your face. You stared up at him, wide-eyed, until he leaned down and brushed his nose against yours experimentally.
He was so close. So close that you could feel his hot breath fanning your lips. So close that you could see the gold flecks in his dark eyes.
You shuddered. There was that twist of your heart once again.
You swore you could hear his breath hitch, and you almost called it out before a crevice started opening up in the center of your living room.
“What the fuck?” you shrieked, scrambling back against the arm of the couch and holding up one of the throw pillows to defend yourself. Jeonghan had gotten off of you and stood up, eyebrows knitted into a frown. It looked like he knew what was going on, so you asked, “What is it, Jeonghan?”
It was the same void of darkness from before—the same one that Jeonghan came from. The room was freezing this time, too, and the windows had iced over. You swallowed hard, wondering if this was one of your mistakes again. You hadn’t said or done anything this time, though, so it must have been someone here for Jeonghan.
From the wisps of smoke emerged the most beautiful man you had ever seen. Or, well, second after Jeonghan.
“Mammon, you bastard.” Second-Most Beautiful Man scowled. “If this is one of your conniving plots to escape Hell, then you will face punishment worse than being boiled alive for damnation.”
You looked to your right to see Jeonghan with his arms folded across his chest. Smiling.
“Asmodeus,” your demon greeted with coldness in his tone, “you planted that scrap of paper in my human’s book, didn’t you?”
Asmodeus’ glower slowly morphed into a wicked grin. “You don’t leave any room for entertainment, do you? I came here to drag you back, anyway, so don’t be so bitter.” His red, beady eyes shifted to you. “This must be your precious human.”
Jeonghan’s voice was deeper when he warned, “Don’t you dare lay a finger on her, Asmodeus.”
“Or what?” he mocked. “What could you possibly do to me in that pathetic human body of yours? Have you gone soft already? Your powers have weakened, Mammon. Face it. You’ll die out here—no, you’re already dying.”
“What do you want?” Jeonghan snapped. “If you want me dead, then you have no need to be here.”
“I need you alive,” Asmodeus muttered, “in your true form.”
He scoffed. “I’ll just die and be reborn.”
Reborn? You straightened up at Jeonghan’s words. Why didn’t he tell you he would be reborn? Here you were, like an idiot, worrying over his possible death.
“The other five princes are requesting to see you, so—”
“Oh, why should I give a damn about the other princes?” Jeognhan fussed. “They only care about using me for their trivial schemes!”
“Jeonghan,” you spoke up loudly, and both of the demon princes turned to you with shocked looks on their faces. “If I’m interpreting this correctly… then aren’t you being offered an easy way to get back? You should take it, right?”
“Human—”
“Oh, I forgot you go by your human name here,” Asmodeus said with a chuckle. He walked toward you and reached his hand out, smiling so wide that his eyes crinkled at the corners. “Nice to meet you, Y/N. You can call me Joshua, if that’s easier. I’m the demon prince of lust.”
“How do you know my name?” you asked, cautiously shaking his hand. You looked toward Jeonghan with a scowl. “Wait, how does he know my name and you didn’t?”
“My bad.”
“You’ve truly gone soft, Mammon,” Asmodeus observed. “You’re on Earth entertaining a human girl instead of doing your job back in Hell. Aren’t you the one who told the rest of us to be happy with what we’ve got in Hell?”
“My job,” Jeonghan corrected, “is rotting in Hell. My other job is taking care of my human.”
“Your allegiance is with the princes, Mammon,” Joshua hissed. “This human is insignificant—”
“Do not speak about my human with that filthy mouth of yours, Asmodeus,” Jeonghan interrupted sharply, his eyes darkening. “Tell me what you want from me and leave this place at once.”
“Pythius wants a seat with the Seven Princes.”
Jeonghan raised a brow. “He wants to rebrand to the Eight Princes? Doesn’t have as nice of a ring to it.”
“No, you idiot.” Joshua groaned. “He wants to overthrow one of the Seven Princes, which is why you need to come back. Greed must have a seat at the throne room of sins.”
“Tell him to go ahead. He can be boiled alive in my place.”
“You’re still on that? That was eons ago.” Joshua sighed. “Don’t be a fool, Mammon. If you die on Earth—sure, you’ll be reborn in Hell again, but you will still waste your time by dying on this planet.” He continued, “Think about how disastrous the situation would be if Pythius actually takes your place. You will be stripped of your title, your powers will weaken, and greed will no longer be one of the Seven Deadly Sins.”
“Doesn’t sound too bad, honestly.”
“Mammon,” Joshua growled. “Take this seriously. You’re acting like Belphegor with that flippant attitude of yours.”
“Ah, Belphegor.” Jeonghan turned to you with a light laugh. “I think you’d like him. He goes by Wonwoo here. Seriously, such a—”
“I will slice up each limb of that mortal body of yours, Mammon,” Joshua warned. “You’re not understanding the severity of this situation.”
“I understand it well enough now,” he replied. “So, you can leave. I’ll figure out what to do on my own. Either way, Mammon will be reborn as usual. Happy? Good, now get lost.”
Joshua sighed, frustrated. “Do you even have a way to get back, you fool?”
“I’ll figure it out.”
“Then I’ll be on my way,” Joshua said before his body started to tessellate out of existence, vanishing piece-by-piece into thin air. “I really hope you know what you’re doing, Mammon.”
You were the first to break the silence once the demon of lust disappeared, asking, “You’ll be reborn? So you never even had to worry about dying?”
“Demons can be killed, but they can’t die.”
“Oh, yeah, thanks. Really cleared things up for me with that.”
“Let’s just drop it.”
You couldn’t just drop it, though. “You weren’t actually imprisoned in Hell, were you?”
“I was. Sort of.” He paused. “Haven’t been for a while, to be honest.”
“Then why didn’t you go with Joshua? It doesn’t sound like he wants you back to throw you back in the lake.”
“I don’t want to be a pawn in their silly games anymore,” Jeonghan muttered darkly. “It’s infuriating.”
“Then what are you gonna do? That was the easiest way for you to get back!”
“I have time, human.” Jeonghan didn’t seem to want to be pressed further, so you backed off. “Don’t worry about me.”
He walked into your room and slammed the door shut, so you settled back into the couch and hugged the throw pillow to your chest. How could you not worry? You couldn’t understand Jeonghan at all, and although you wanted to respect his decision not to go back with Joshua, you were at a crossroads; staying here was killing him. He had far too much pride to think rationally.
Plus, the longer he stayed with you, the more it stung when you realized time was running out. Fast.
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The next day, Jeonghan appeared as if he was back to normal. It was odd, though, given how he was brooding yesterday. You made a conscious effort not to mention Joshua, but you knew the topic was still weighing heavy on his shoulders.
(He was insatiable once you were awake and sitting up in bed, prying your legs open and begging you for a taste. Although you had several questions for the demon, your carnal desire overtook whatever curiosity you had.
“Feeling better?” you asked cautiously.
“I’ll feel better soon. Anyway, good morning,” he purred. “You’re dripping already, human. I haven’t even touched you yet.”
Your chest felt hot. “Yeah, yeah, just get to it.”
“My pleasure.”)
“Hey,” you called out later during breakfast. “I’m going out with Sooyoung tonight. Are you gonna be okay being alone at home?”
“Where are you going?” he asked instead.
You paused between your spoonfuls of cereal. “Uh, just a party.”
“I love parties,” Jeonghan said. “Will there be human sacrifices?”
You grimaced. Although your guardian demon was making impressive improvements on his transition to human life, there were still some flaws in his way of thinking. On the bright side, though, he made sure to pass his morbid comments by you before he tried them out in front of others.
“No, it’s a college party,” you replied. “The most deadly thing there will be alcohol and Old Spice.”
“Boring,” he mused before getting up from his seat and heading to the living room. “Well, be safe.”
You nearly choked on your cereal, completely forgetting to respond to his words. Did Jeonghan—Mammon, manifestation of greed, one of the Seven Princes of Hell—just tell you to be safe? You had to be hearing things.
Or, your heart offered, maybe some part of him cares about you—deep, deep down.
You pushed down the thought entirely, forcing yourself to think of other alternatives. After all, there was no possible way for a demon to feel those sorts of emotions.
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It was almost midnight and Sooyoung was passed out on the couch.
“You’re fucking kidding me,” you said in dismay. “We literally just got here.”
“That’s tough,” Kim Mingyu, president of Sigma Omega Nu, replied sympathetically. “At least her boyfriend’s here to take care of her. That means you need to drink more and get on her level.”
“That sounds like a terrible idea.”
“Hey, that’s what college is for.”
You whined when Mingyu handed you a new cup of jungle juice. Normally, you didn’t accept drinks from strangers; Mingyu was harmless, though, and you two were well-established friends for a few years now. However, you were on your third cup of juice by now, and, if you kept it up, you were probably going to end up like Sooyoung. Since she was the one who drove you two here, though, you had to stay sober enough to find a ride home. No matter what happened, you were determined to not fall asleep on the musty frat house couch.
(It already happened once last year. You woke up the next morning to Kwon Soonyoung yelling, “Someone take a picture of Y/N sleeping on the couch I got laid on!”)
“I can’t get drunk,” you insisted. “I have to get home.” To make sure my pet demon is behaving, you wanted to add.
Mingyu let out a snicker. “Call someone to pick you up or I can ask one of the sober monitors to drop you off.”
You pondered for a moment. Technically, you could call Jeonghan. Now that he had gotten the hang of using his phone, you saw him texting Seokmin every once in a while. You were sure he would be able to pick up a call, as well.
“Fine, whatever. Hand it over.” You took the red solo cup from him and downed its contents—just under ten seconds, counted by Mingyu himself. “I’m gonna go call my friend before this starts hitting me.”
You walked out into the backyard where the music wasn’t as loud. The cool air hitting your flushed skin made you feel like you could breathe properly again, but you still weren’t walking nearly straight enough. With careful hands, you searched up Jeonghan’s number in your contacts.
Your phone rang three times before he picked up.
“Human? Are you dead?”
You frowned. “If I was dead, how would I be calling you?”
“I was hoping I could keep your soul around as my pet in Hell,” he said.
You must have had some sort of degradation kink by this point because that comment was not supposed to make you feel butterflies in your stomach. It was time for you to consider therapy.
You cut straight to the point. “Can you come to the party?”
“What? No.”
His refusal normally would’ve stung, but you were too tipsy to back down now. “Please? Sooyoung already passed out and her boyfriend’s taking care of her. I’m getting drunk all by myself now.”
Sort of an exaggeration. You were going to use every card up your sleeve.
“Then walk home.”
“I can’t. Home’s too far to walk.”
“Then sleep over at whoever’s house you’re at.”
“It’s a house full of frat boys. Their living conditions are probably worse than yours down in Hell.”
“Then sober up.”
“Aren’t you supposed to be my guardian demon?!”
“If you want an angel to come rescue you, I would try Seokmin’s number.”
You let out a groan and crouched down, letting your head hang between your knees. This was fruitless; Jeonghan was stubborn as a mule, and you were getting nowhere with this conversation.
But this wasn’t just about getting someone to take you home. You certainly had other options, so you could hang up on Jeonghan right now and find someone else to drive you back. However, you just didn’t want to admit out loud that you wanted to see Jeonghan. You wanted him to come over and take care of you, even though that was impossible for the demon.
You were just foolish.
“Fine, Jeonghan,” you snapped. Your head started to feel fuzzy, and you were quickly losing control over your own tongue. “I’ll get home all by myself. I’ll walk home in the cold, dark night, and hell, I’ll even walk on the road if I feel like it. Maybe I’ll lay down and take a nap if I get really tired, and if I can’t even make it to the door, I’ll just sleep in Mingyu’s bed—” You didn’t realize you were pacing until you hit a solid surface. “Ow—wait, what the hell?”
Jeonghan, in the flesh, sighed heavily and hung up the call in front of you. “Human, you’re really such a pain in the ass sometimes.”
“H-how’d you get here?” you asked, your cheeks starting to feel hot. “Did you teleport or whatever again? Didn’t you say that eats up your power? Are you—”
The demon clamped a hand over your mouth. “I materialized here, and yes, it eats up the little power I have left,” he whispered harshly, “but you wouldn’t stop running your mouth, so here I am. How could you get intoxicated so easily?”
“Well… I’ve been here for about an hour,” you defended. “It doesn’t take that much for me to get drunk. I’m pretty lightweight.”
“How much did you have?”
“Like, three cups of jungle juice.”
“Jungle… juice?”
You snorted. “This one’s got vodka, rum, and fruit punch. It’s pretty good.”
“Three cups?” Jeonghan asked with a scoff. “I forget that humans have such weak tolerances for alcohol. I can drink eight bottles of wine without getting drunk.”
“Oh yeah?” you challenged. You dragged the demon inside the frat house, not giving him the chance to take in and process his surroundings. You poured him a cup of jungle juice in the kitchen and handed it to him. “Drink up, then.”
Jeonghan raised a brow at you before chugging down the liquid like water. He handed it back to you with a light smirk playing on his lips.
“Are you sure there’s even alcohol in this concoction?” he asked, barking out a laugh. “Human, you’re too cute. This is nothing for a powerful demon like…” he trailed off, looking down at his feet and letting out a soft exhale. “My chest feels hot.”
Your hand flew up to cover your mouth, stopping yourself from bursting out into laughter. This sight was absolutely priceless. You didn’t think you would ever be able to see Jeonghan so vulnerable.
“Are you drunk off one cup of jungle juice?” you asked, and, at this point, you weren’t able to stifle your laughter. “Oh my god!”
“Shut up, human,” he grumbled. He blinked a few times and held onto the edge of the counter. “I’ve never felt this way before. My body isn’t used to having a human’s biological system.”
“Whoa, this guy is fucked,” Lee Chan retorted, showing up out of nowhere. “He’s talking like something out of I, Robot.”
You rolled your eyes at his pop culture reference, but Jeonghan didn’t seem to follow at all. For all the movies he and Seokmin had been watching, you were surprised that they didn’t get around to this one.
“Robot,” Jeonghan mumbled, moving to lean against you. You grabbed his arm and tried to hold him steady, but he just wrapped his arms around you and let his head rest on your shoulder. “I feel like I’ve just been expelled into the Outerverse with Yog-Sothoth. Ah, fuck, those guys owe me…”
You had to get Jeonghan out of here fast. Before he started speaking crazy demon lingo again.
“Are you sober monitoring tonight?” you asked Chan. “You think you could drive us home?”
“Yeah, sure,” Chan agreed with a smile. Gauging that Jeonghan wasn’t responsive enough to answer any questions, the frat boy decided to ask you, “Did you bring a friend from another school, Y/N?”
“Yeah, I guess you could say that,” you mumbled. “This is Jeonghan.”
Chan ducked his head to get a good look at Jeonghan’s face. “Nice to meet you, Jeonghan.”
“Hi, Robot.”
“No, my name’s not Robot.”
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Jeonghan’s biggest weakness wound up being seatbelts.
You and Chan had to fight him down to get him to sit down properly in the back seat. Since he was fussing too much, you decided to sit with Chan up front, letting Jeonghan moan and grumble incoherently in the back.
(“Unchain me, human,” the demon kept whining. “I refuse to be imprisoned in the mortal realm.”
When he was stopped at a red light, Chan threw a glance over his shoulder before telling you, “I think your friend watches too much anime.”
“He’s going through a phase,” you lied.)
While you made light conversation with the frat brother, you felt like your guardian demon was glaring daggers at the poor boy. You wanted to smack him upside the head for his rudeness despite Chan’s generous act.
You craned your neck to look back at Jeonghan, shooting him a warning look. He simply scoffed and looked the other way, although he ended up resting his head against the window once he realized his world was still spinning.
“Come on, Jeonghan,” you murmured once Chan parked the car in front of your place. “Get up.”
“Don’t wanna.”
You tugged the sleeve of his shirt impatiently. “What? Why?”
“Not going back with someone who ignores me.”
Your jaw nearly went slack. Was he jealous? Yoon Jeonghan, Prince of Greed, was jealous over frat boy Lee Chan? Over something so miniscule as you sitting in the passenger’s seat? This was definitely something you were going to hold over the demon’s head for as long as you could.
“I’m not ignoring you, okay?” you tried. “Come back home with me, and you’ll have my full attention.”
Jeonghan hesitated before he let out a begrudged grumble. “Fine.”
You and Chan hauled the drunken demon to his feet, taking one of his arms and throwing it over your shoulders so that you could help him walk. Chan assisted you by slinging Jeonghan’s other arm over his shoulder, but you still found it hard to walk properly with Jeonghan’s head lolling to the side. His face was so close that you could feel his hot breath against your neck, sending shivers down your spine.
“You smell so good, human,” he murmured. Jesus, he was saying all this while Chan was still here? You were glad that Jeonghan couldn’t tell how flustered you were, but it was probably evident to Chan. “What perfume is that?”
“This guy sure does call you ‘human’ a lot,” Chan observed with a light laugh.
“Uh, yeah, inside joke,” you explained quickly. “Let’s just get him to the couch.”
Once you and Chan let Jeonghan’s heavy body drop onto the couch, you walked the frat boy to the door. He stuffed his hands deep in his pockets, a shy smile playing on his lips. He looked at you expectantly, like he was waiting for a tip or something. You were considering handing him the crumpled-up five dollars you left in your back pocket.
“We should hang out sometime, Y/N,” he started. “I feel like I barely see you around the house anymore.”
“Oh, yeah, I haven’t been in a partying mood lately,” you explained, “but I’ll try to drop by more.”
“Alright. I’ll see you around.”
Before you could respond, a voice from behind you loudly interjected, “Bye.” With that, Jeonghan slammed the door shut with one hand.
“That was rude,” you said.
“Can I gut him like a fish?”
“That’s even more rude. Please don’t.”
“Whatever.”
You looked back at Jeonghan, who had one hand against the door that was right beside your head. “What’s your deal? He was nice enough to drive you back and help you to the couch.”
“Why do you keep ignoring me?” he asked, proceeding to ignore you at the same time.
“I-I’m not ignoring you!” you stammered. “I’m the one who helped you get back to the apartment!”
He had you backed up against the door, looking up at him with worry knitting your brows together. Jeonghan let his head drop to lay on your shoulder, leaving you frozen in place. You figured it was the alcohol rushing to his head, but you couldn’t help the fact that your heart was pounding in your chest.
“Human,” he mumbled against your collarbone, “why can’t you just stay by my side?”
“Huh? But—”
“I wanna be human, too.”
The words sounded strange coming from him. Almost like he was at his tipping point. Tender. Raw. Vulnerable. You were absolutely dumbfounded by what you had just heard. With no coherent response coming to mind, all you could do was raise your hand to gently thread through his soft strands of hair.
“Let’s get you to bed,” you replied softly, letting the demon stay in your embrace as you walked him back to your bedroom. He looked up at you quizzically when you sat him down on the edge of your bed. “It’s about time you stopped sleeping on the floor. I’ll take the couch, so—”
You cut yourself off when Jeonghan wrapped his arms around your legs and pressed his lips to your thighs. “Stay here with me.”
You stared ahead, straight at the wall, a dull ache throbbing in your chest. “What are you doing, Jeonghan?”
“What?”
“Why are you doing this to me?” you asked. “You only have months left to live. You should’ve just gone back with Joshua.”
He stiffened. “I didn’t want to.”
“Yeah, I guess you’ll just be reborn, anyway,” you muttered. “You never had anything to worry about to begin with.”
Jeonghan suddenly pulled away from you, his eyes cold as ice. Since he was always docile around you, there was never any reason for you to feel scared around the demon. However, the look he was giving you left you backing up slowly from him.
“I’d rather stay dead than be reborn,” Jeonghan said, “and I wouldn’t feel so agonized about it if I didn’t have to meet you.”
Tears pricked your eyes. You felt a lump rising in your throat, and you felt the hot, salty tears hitting your feet before you even realized you had started to cry. It took all of your willpower to keep the waterworks at bay. The demon’s cruel words were never supposed to get under your skin this bad. You held him at arm’s length for that very reason.
Maybe, all this time, you had been pulling him closer unintentionally.
“You think nothing hurts for me just because I’m a demon,” he continued, “but it stings every time you try to chase me away.”
“I’m not trying to chase you away.”
“Then why do you keep pushing me to go back to Hell?” he asked. You couldn’t exactly read his expression, but it was clear that Jeonghan felt tormented. The pain in his eyes was telling of that. “Why did you want me to go back with Asmodeus?”
You huffed. “I really don’t understand you. You don’t want to die and be reborn, but you don’t want to go to Hell either? Aren’t you going to die if you stay here?”
“You don’t get it.” He shook his head. “I don’t want to be reborn because I lose all my memories of the mortal world. I lose all my memories of you.”
“And you don’t want to go to Hell because…”
“The only reason you summoned me was because of Asmo—I mean, Joshua’s—need for pointless entertainment. Surely, with what’s been going down in Hell ever since I left, they won’t let me leave again until Pythius is quelled. That could take hundreds or thousands of years.” Jeonghan scoffed, shaking his head. “Pythius… one of the most fearsome and hideous demons. There’s no telling what he’d do for a seat with the Seven Princes.”
“I’m sure if I go back, he would try to kill me over and over again,” he continued, “because he detests me the most. That group of them—the Malebranche—they might be more sadistic than Lucifer himself.”
You frowned. “What’d you do to him?”
“Why do you assume I did something to him?” Jeonghan scowled.
“Because you’re the demon prince of greed,” you replied. “I’m sure you pissed him off somehow.”
He snorted. “Pythius rules the eighth circle where frauds are punished. He hates nothing more than the greed that consumes those humans. Of course he’d loathe the demon that represents the very sin.”
“I don’t think I’ve seen you act that greedy here, though. Are you different when you’re down there?”
The dark glint in Jeonghan’s eyes nearly went undetected. You only managed to catch it because of the way his smile dropped in tune. His normally easygoing expression was replaced with the same serious look he wore when Joshua was around.
“I haven’t been this greedy in eons, human.”
You tried to think back to when Jeonghan had acted in such a way. Sure, there were the multiple times he gave you (mind-blowing) head and the time he asked you for the newest iPhone, but those didn’t seem as drastic to you. You expected the very demon of greed to be more selfish.
“Really?” You forced out a stilted laugh. “I think you’re about as greedy as a toddler, like, in a bratty way, but that’s it.”
Jeonghan stood up.
You took notice of his broad shoulders before, but now you felt swamped under his gaze. He towered over you with ease, looking down at you with a storm brewing in his eyes. There were no words exchanged at first, but one look at the demon told you that whatever he was experiencing was far too human for him to understand fully.
“I’m so greedy that I would let the hierarchy in Hell fall to shambles because of you,” he started. “I would abandon my seat and let Pythius take control just so I can stay here with you. I would rather wither away on Earth instead of going back to Hell where I can’t see you again. I would let Alastor, the chief executioner, torture me over and over again until the ache in my heart finally goes away—the ache you caused.”
His next words were no louder than a weak whisper when he grabbed your forearms and said, “I’m so greedy that I wanna just give up everything for you, Y/N.”
With that, Jeonghan muttered something about sleeping on the couch before he walked out of your room and shut the door. That was the first time he had ever called you by your name; yet, it didn’t even make you feel happy. The first salty tear hit the floorboards, then the next, then more. You could only watch the demon leave in silence, finally letting yourself cry once he was out of sight.
Crying because you didn’t want him to leave. Crying because your feelings were already running too deep.
Crying because you knew a botched confession when you heard one.
Just as you were about to settle in bed, burrow yourself in the sheets and sob until you fell asleep, you heard Jeonghan’s footsteps coming back from the living room. You had no time to regain your composure when he flung open the door, his eyes stony and his lips pulled down in a frown.
“I can’t sleep if you’re crying like this,” he murmured, walking over to cup your face with his large hands. “That’s foul play.”
He kissed you.
The motion was swift—a gentle grab of your jaw and tilt of your chin, and Jeonghan was kissing away your disquiet with surprising tenderness.
Temptation.
Temptation was the utmost desire that demons could draw from mortals, but you weren’t quite sure this was it. Jeonghan’s kiss felt different—more intimate. His lips moved against yours with hesitance at first, and he only deepened it once you reciprocated. It felt like he wasn’t trying to pull you closer; rather, he was waiting for you to find him.
Once you two were lost in desperate kisses and heavy breaths, Jeonghan jerked away with a light gasp. You stared at him, dazed, before he grabbed your wrist and pressed your hand firmly against his chest. At first, you weren’t quite sure what he was having you do, but the realization was a slap in the face.
A heartbeat.
Ba-bump. Ba-bump. Ba-bump.
It was fast, like he had just run a marathon. You looked up at the demon quizzically, but he was already pulling away. Your hand hung in the air before dropping to your side, registering too late that he had already let go.
“You think nothing hurts me,” he mumbled. This time, he had his own hand flat against his chest. “I torture myself every day like this because I know, deep down, there’s no happy ending for us.” The demon’s eyes, normally masked with golden brown irises, glowed a dim red.
It started drizzling outside. Soft pattering of rain that drowned out the silence.
Everything would fall apart—slowly, gently, inevitably. Jeonghan, too, would eventually become nothing but a ghost of a raindrop that once streaked your window.
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Post-party hangovers always called for breakfast at The Veranda. It became a tradition between you and Sooyoung to go there after a night of partying. That, or you two would skip straight to lunch and get pho. There was no telling when either of you would wake up the next morning.
Today, however, Sooyoung texted you early enough.
“We should get cocktails,” she suggested while looking down the menu.
“You already blacked out last night, you crazy bitch.”
To be frank, you had ulterior motives for this outing. For one, you wanted to get out of the house because the tension between you and Jeonghan was making you suffocate. The other reason was because you wanted to consult Sooyoung with your problems.
You started with, “So, there’s this guy,” and your best friend was already at the edge of her seat. Once you finished giving her the rundown (which only concluded after you ordered your food and were halfway done with your herb roasted chicken sandwich), Sooyoung paused to think, which stretched into about five minutes. More than enough time for you to finish your sandwich.
“I don’t get what the problem is,” Sooyoung finally said, tilting her head curiously. “If you two like each other, then just ask him out.”
If only it were that easy, you thought to yourself, but you couldn’t spare her the details of how impossible the situation was. You weren’t in the mood to hear “if he wanted to, he would” when you were dealing with a guardian demon who was literally dying in the mortal world.
You hesitated. “Let’s just say that he’s not exactly available right now.”
“He has a girlfriend?” Sooyoung asked, raising an eyebrow in suspicion. She looked ready to start telling you off for being a homewrecker, so you had to clarify immediately.
“No, no, he’s single,” you said. “He’s just not… emotionally available to date.”
“So, he’s been getting all close to you without wanting to date you.”
“Uh, not really? He’s just—”
“Cut him off, Y/N.”
“What?” you asked, eyes widening. You figured the situation sounded bad from an outsider’s perspective, but there was no way for you to break it down without explaining that Jeonghan’s your guardian demon from Hell that ended up being trapped on Earth because of your statistics midterm and demonic intervention from Joshua, the other oddball from Hell. “I can’t do that.”
“Sure you can,” Sooyoung replied. “It’ll hurt at first, but you’ll get over it eventually.”
“But he’s…” you trailed off, wondering how the fuck you were going to defend a demon prince of greed. You settled with saying, “He’s funny.”
“So are clowns, Y/N. You don’t see me asking out Ronald McDonald.”
“Okay, it’s not that simple, Sooyoung!” you cried out. “It’s more like… he doesn’t have that much time left here.”
“Oh.” She sounded lost at first, but the confused look on her face was slowly replaced with somber understanding. “I’m sorry, Y/N.”
“No, you’re good. I didn’t know how to say it.”
“Well, if that’s the case,” she said, “why don’t you just make the most of the time you have left with him?”
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Sooyoung’s words hadn’t left your mind ever since breakfast. Even after she dropped you off at your apartment, you were still replaying the conversation in your head.
You thought about it in the shower.
You thought about it while doing your homework.
And you continued to think about it when Jeonghan was spreading your legs apart later that day.
“Didn’t we just fight?” you asked, your voice unnaturally high. Despite your words, you came to realize that you were sort of feral when it came to your sex life. A little fight was just a chip on your shoulder.
“That was a fight?” Jeonghan asked. “I’ve been in fights before. They’re pretty gruesome. Usually some heads roll or someone gets disemboweled.”
“A verbal fight,” you clarified.
“I’ve been in verbal fights before, too. They usually end with someone getting stabbed.”
“Okay, well, that’s not a verbal fight.” You sighed. “I mean, aren’t you upset with me? You were acting like being around me was hurting you.”
Jeonghan looked down and went completely silent.
“Hello?” you called. Did you break him?
Jeonghan looked back up. This time, his cheeks were tinged scarlet red. Your eyes went wide at the sight of the demon fully blushing over your words. You were definitely adding this bullet point to the Blackmail on Jeonghan folder you kept in your Notes app.
“I let my emotions get the best of me, okay?” he mumbled. “Let's just drop it.”
You, however, were brimming with questions. “Hey, but you let me feel your heartbeat last night,” you started. “Did you always have a heart?”
Jeonghan pulled away to look at you with distaste dawning on his face. “Did I always have a heart? Of course I’ve always had a heart, human. How would I be giving you the head of your life if I was a corpse?”
Your demon was gradually evolving to develop a filthy mouth. You weren’t sure if this was improvement or regression.
“You have a human heart and you can feel human emotions,” you said. “What makes you and I so different, then?”
Jeonghan opened his mouth, but before he could speak, there was a knock at the door. You glanced at Jeonghan suspiciously, wondering if he invited Seokmin without your knowledge, but even he looked clueless. There was no one you were expecting, so you wondered if it was just the UPS guy dropping off a package.
When you opened your door though, it was indeed Seokmin, and he was pissed.
You had never seen him like this, with his nostrils flaring and his skin flushed red. It was almost as if steam was coming out of his own ears. But there was something very glaring about Seokmin that had you gawking at him.
His wings were on full display.
Snowy white wings fanned out behind him. You could hear a low, angelic hum faintly resounding from the feathers. You were in shock for a moment, unsettled and overwhelmed by the heavenly light that Seokmin was bathing in.
It seemed to have an even worse effect on Jeonghan. You noticed how he flinched at the sight, backing up slowly.
“Get back, Y/N,” Seokmin ordered. “I know this is gonna sound crazy, but your roommate’s dangerous.”
You wondered if he had some unexplainable power over you because your actions were going against your words as you found yourself stumbling away from the two. “Seokmin, don’t do this,” you begged.
He frowned. “What?”
But Jeonghan got his words in before you could. “Looks like the both of us figured it out before you did. You just found out you’re a Quartarion, huh?”
He was jeering, like he was taunting the angel to attack him. You couldn’t understand what the demon was thinking when he was clearly overpowered right now. Even if Seokmin wasn’t a pureblood angel, Jeonghan’s powers had considerably weakened ever since he entered the mortal realm.
“How…” Seokmin was shocked for a moment, straightening up and glowering down at you. “How did you know?”
“You found out recently, didn’t you? Mommy or daddy told you they were half, which meant you’re quarter—weaker than them,” Jeonghan pressed. “They kept it from you all this time, huh? Because your angelic presence wasn’t strong enough to be a threat, but then you started glowing brighter.”
“Jeonghan, enough!” you yelled, trying to mediate whatever was happening. You had no idea what Seokmin was going to do, but it definitely didn’t seem like he was here for another movie night.
“Mammon,” Seokmin said through gritted teeth. “That’s your real name, right?” Suddenly, the angel turned on you with an accusatory stare. “And you—how did you know about all of this? Did he tell you?”
You gulped before starting slowly, “Look, I accidentally summoned Jeonghan from my statistics textbook the day before you met him at the Olive Garden.”
Seokmin tilted his head, looking utterly puzzled. None of those words were in the Bible.
“I knew he was a demon,” you continued, “and he told me you were an angel. He could sense it, or something like that.”
“Oh,” Seokmin replied rather sadly, as if he had just discovered he had been the brunt of a joke all along. “Well, I’m sorry you were caught up in this Y/N, but I have to kill your roommate before he hurts anyone else.”
“Whoa, hold on—he hasn’t hurt anyone!” you cried, holding onto Seokmin’s shoulder to keep him from charging at Jeonghan. “You’re an angel; you can’t kill him!”
“Technically, he can,” Jeonghan noted as he just barely avoided the angel grabbing him. “Some angels are specifically assigned to keep demons away from humans. I think Seokmin’s just mad, though.”
“I’m not just mad,” Seokmin spat, although he was visibly seething. “I just feel stupid that I befriended someone who was trying to kill me this whole time!”
You turned your gaze to Jeonghan, who held up his hands in surrender. “Okay, okay, I’ll admit I might have had murderous intentions at first, but come on! You would be dead by now if I really wanted to kill you.”
“You can’t kill him, Seokmin,” you repeated in a desperate attempt. “You owe him!”
Now the angel was lost. “And how exactly do I owe him?”
“Remember when your card declined, and I bought you that croissant on campus last week?” you tried. As soon as the words came out, you heard a loud groan from Jeonghan, and you were sure he was pinching the bridge of his nose and shaking his head. “You owe me, who owes Jeonghan, so you owe Jeonghan!”
Seokmin was even more lost. “What?”
“Transitive property of equality: A equals B equals C, so A equals C.”
“There’s no way you’re actually applying the transitive property of equality to this situation.”
“And what exactly do you owe me for?” Jeonghan chimed in, equally as confused.
“Yeah, I can’t believe I’m agreeing with him on this one, but he’s a demon, Y/N,” Seokmin said. “If you feel like you owe him anything, it’s likely you were manipulated by him.”
“No, I wasn’t!” you protested before the demon could object himself. “I owe him because…”
You trailed off, wondering how you were going to string your feelings into comprehensible words. They were all a mess of jumbled vowels and consonants in your head, holding no significant weight until you thought long and hard, feeling it get heavier and heavier on your tongue.
The angel raised a brow. “Because what?”
Letters unfurling in your head. Piecing themselves together. You felt like your head was going to explode until you blurted out, “Because he showed me what love feels like.”
You looked over at Jeonghan to see him staring at you like a deer caught in headlights. He looked helpless at the moment, wild with pain, like he had let down all lines of defense at your declaration. A scarlet red blush stained his cheeks, and it was perhaps the single most human expression you had ever seen from him.
Seokmin moved forward, and an agonized scream tore itself from your throat before you could even think. His sudden movement chilled your blood, and all you could think about was how you needed to protect your guardian demon before he was struck by the angel.
And so you did.
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Confession time: you kicked an angel in the balls.
You were pretty sure that was a one-way ticket to Hell.
“I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry,” you kept repeating to a defeated Seokmin, who was now laying on the couch with pain drawn all over his face. “My fight response has been kicking in a lot more lately.”
“I wasn’t gonna hurt him,” he explained weakly. “My foot was just cramping up.”
“So you won’t kill Jeonghan?” you asked, brimming with hope.
“I… I don’t know,” he answered. “Jeonghan’s a demon, Y/N. Just because you have feelings for him doesn’t mean he isn’t capable of manipulating those emotions out of you.”
“He’s as good as human, Seokmin.”
“Y/N,” Jeonghan started, but you shook your head.
“I’m right!” you insisted. “Jeonghan has a heart, and it beats; I’ve felt it myself.” The two men were silent, so you continued, “He can’t handle alcohol at all; he’s more lightweight than I am. He likes building lego sets. He likes the rain, and he said it’s because that means an angel’s crying, but it’s really because he loves the way the Earth smells after rainfall. He likes coffee, but he always pours me some first before he takes any. You think he’d have the vocabulary of a Victorian man, but he knows more slang than I do. He… Jeonghan wants to be human. Isn’t that enough for you?”
Silence hung in the air. You wondered if you overstepped for a moment, aired out too much of his business, but then you could visibly see Seokmin at war with himself. You could see the internal battle in his eyes, fighting to believe in whatever the angels had instructed him to do.
He narrowed his eyes at the demon and asked in a calmer voice, “You swear you won’t kill me?”
“I swear on God.”
“You’re a demon. Swear on something else.”
“Um, okay… I swear on, uh, Y/N.”
“Please don’t swear on me,” you muttered, looking at your feet nervously as if the ground was going to swallow you whole.
Seokmin closed his eyes, exhaling loudly. “So, when did you stop wanting to kill me?”
“Y/N and I had a deal that I wouldn’t kill you in exchange for—”
You slapped a hand over the demon’s mouth immediately, successfully muffling the next words that decided to slip from his lips. It felt like your face was burning from how embarrassed you were. While Jeonghan shot you a confused look and tried to lick your palm to get it to budge, you exclaimed, “That detail isn’t important!”
“Anyway,” Jeonghan continued once you finally removed your hand, “I guess… part of me started enjoying those movie nights. Kinda hard to discuss the endings after you kill your friend, right?”
You could see Seokmin visibly soften, the fondness returning to his eyes. “You’re telling the truth.”
“Yeah, I am.”
“You can tell?” you inquired, wondering if it was some sort of angelic ability he had recently acquired.
“Yeah, I’ve always had some sort of sixth sense about these things,” Seokmin said, although you weren’t quite sure about this because you and Jeonghan had lied to him on numerous occasions. “I was only able to tap into it after I saw my wings for the first time.”
You then wondered if the longing etched bone-deep in Jeonghan’s face was also real.
It took a couple of hours for you and Jeonghan to explain everything to Seokmin, from beginning to end. You had to start from how you accidentally summoned him, which seemed to entertain the both of them, and you had to scold them both to take the situation seriously. Then, Jeonghan explained his side of the story, detailing how he didn’t have much time left because his mortal body was weak. 
“What do we do now, then?” Seokmin asked, sitting up straight now. “You’re gonna die if you stay here, right?”
“That’s why he wanted to kill an angel,” you said, “but now we don’t have a game plan.”
The three of you sat in silence for several minutes, letting the situation sink in. Your nerves were still buzzing from your earlier confession, still unanswered by Jeonghan, but you knew it wasn’t the time to dwell on that. There were more important matters at hand, but no one knew what to do.
Jeonghan sighed. “It’s fine. I’ve already accepted that I’m going to die here and be reborn in Hell.”
“You think that’s fair to Y/N? Or me?” Seokmin burst out. “You’re basically telling us to watch you die, dude.”
“You think I wanted this outcome?” he snapped. “No, I didn’t think I was going to actually enjoy living in this realm! I didn’t think I was gonna fall in love with my human! I didn’t think mortals had such excellent marketing strategies!”
Seokmin’s eyes went wide. “You…”
“Jeonghan,” was all you could say, and his name came out no louder than a whisper.
“What?!”
“You said you love me.” 
You looked toward Seokmin for confirmation, who answered with a quiet nod—an indication that not only had you heard it correctly, but Jeonghan was telling the truth.
To be honest, you were quite embarrassed that this was all coming to light in front of Lee Seokmin. He seemed very out of place in this otherwise tender moment. Yet, you were filled with inexplicable happiness and absolute dread simultaneously.
Once the grief settled, you were born again. Newfound confidence rising up your throat. You were determined to do whatever it took to mortalize Jeonghan.
“Oh, right.” The demon sounded nervous—enough to make you nervous. He simply stared at you for a moment before brushing the proclamation off with a wave. “Anyway…”
“Jeonghan!”
He shot you a withering look, glaring you down with every fiber of his being. “Seokmin is right there. Do you really wanna do this right now?” he whispered in an exasperated tone, turning his back to his friend so that he could converse with you. Although Jeonghan was lecturing, you were enjoying the way his blush rose to his cheeks. “We can talk about this after he leaves.”
“Okay, fine,” you agreed. “Why’d you have to blurt out a confession while he was here?”
“You did the same thing!”
“I can still hear you guys,” Seokmin reminded unhelpfully.
Somehow, Jeonghan took this as an opportunity to continue to chastise you. “See? This is all because you can’t keep quiet.”
“I can’t keep quiet?” You knew this was not the time nor place to bicker with your guardian demon, but he was an expert at getting on your nerves. “You’re the one who speaks in crazy demon lingo wherever we go!”
He scoffed. “I don’t speak in crazy demon lingo, human.”
“Yeah? Tell that to Chan. Poor guy had to witness your drunk ass going on about the Yog Sloth owing you or whatever.”
Jeonghan stammered and did a double take, looking at you like you had just kicked him square in the chest. “Wait… what did you just say?”
“Uh, Chan—”
“No, the other thing.”
“The Yog Sloth?”
“Yog Sloth,” he echoed, and then something clicked. “Yog-Sothoth? Wait, the Outer Gods—oh my god! They do owe me!” he all but yelled, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you into a bone-crushing hug. “Y/N, you’re a genius!”
Seokmin’s eyebrows knitted together in confusion. “What’d she even do?” he asked, and you were glad you were on the same page as him.
“Yeah, what’d I do? Who the hell are the Outer Gods?”
For the next thirty minutes, Jeonghan went on to explain how billions of years ago, the most powerful beings of all creation, that rivaled even God Himself, were ruling over the universe. Before space and time was Azathoth—chaos. Azathoth even tried to disrupt the beginning of God’s Creation by starting a war. Each blow delivered from both God and Azathoth caused a rippling effect, creating infinite multiverses that were birthed from the clashing between darkness and light.
There was a period in time when the angels and demons had to side together for once to seal away the Outer Gods. Although they were no match for these cosmic beings, God was able to lock them in the Outerverse, where they have been slumbering ever since.
The key that locked away the Outer Gods had been missing for several millennia, but it happened to end up in the hands of Mammon and Belphegor. Mammon had the clever idea of reshaping the artifact into a human hand and hiding it in a fiery lake in Hell. It was called the Right Hand of Doom, but it hadn’t been touched ever since its reform.
“You reshaped a key of cosmic importance into a hand,” you summarized in disbelief. “That key has the power to doom all of our existences, and you turned it into a human hand.”
“You know, Belphegor had the same reaction after I created it,” Jeonghan said. “Actually, let me give him a call to fetch it for me.”
“Wait!” Seokmin exclaimed. “That key could wake the Outer Gods from their slumber. What are you planning on doing with it? Are you seriously considering using the Outerverse?”
“No, Seokmin, I’m gonna use it as a back scratcher.”
“Don’t get me wrong; I do want you to stay here, but this is extremely dangerous. It’s a really selfish decision, Jeonghan.”
“I’m literally the Prince of Greed.”
“Jeonghan, no matter how much I want you to become human and stay with me, this is just… it’s just crazy,” you said. “What if it goes completely wrong? What if you’re trapped in the Outerverse and killed by the Outer Gods?”
“Listen,” Jeonghan started. “When I first created the Right Hand of Doom, I was contacted by Yog-Sothoth himself—Azathoth’s grandson.”
“How did he contact you if he’s imprisoned?” you asked.
“These gods have their ways the same way demons do,” Jeonghan explained. “It’s kept on the down-low, but there are numerous worshippers of theirs that seek out ways to release them. None of them are ever successful, though.”
He continued, “Anyway, Yog-Sothoth isn’t as cruel as the others. He’s actually quite generous when he deems someone worthy, and I guess he thought I was that person when I refashioned the Right Hand of Doom. Millions of years ago, I helped the Outer Gods out by bringing them sacrifices to empower them, so they’re in my debt.”
Seokmin's face soured. “Why’d you bring them sacrifices?”
“Dunno. I was bored.”
“Let me get this straight,” you spoke up. “So, you’re gonna risk your life over the slight chance that you could be turned human?”
Jeonghan’s dark eyes pierced yours, as if he was saying, Look at me. Look at how far I’d go for you.
“Relax.” He cracked a smile. “It’s not like I’m going to the Outerverse myself. I just need the Right Hand of Doom to communicate with Yog-Sothoth across our realms. Even if he rejects my bargain, I doubt he’d try to crush me to a pulp from his prison.”
“If that’s all there is to it,” Seokmin started, a smile creeping to his face, “then I don’t see why we shouldn’t try.”
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Jeonghan left the room momentarily to contact Belphegor, Prince of Sloth. He hadn’t exactly disclosed how he was going to summon the demon, but he returned with a scowl on his face, shaking his head as he explained that Belphegor was too lazy to retrieve the Right Hand of Doom at the moment. You and Seokmin asked when he would return, but even Jeonghan didn’t have an exact answer.
“Give me a call whenever he decides to show up,” Seokmin said before he went back to his apartment. You could tell that he was still shaken up from finding out that his friend had been a demon all this time, but you were glad that they were both being civil for now.
However, there were now other issues at hand. As soon as Seokmin left your apartment, you realized that the tension between you and Jeonghan couldn’t even be cut by a blade. To your surprise, your guardian demon was the first to mention it.
“You love me,” he murmured, more to himself than to you. It was like he was trying to wrap his head around the concept, trying to make sure it was real.
“I do,” you said bravely, “and you love me, I think. Seokmin seemed to believe it was true, and he’s an angel, so…”
“I think I do.” He looked pained. “These feelings are really confusing. I feel like I can’t breathe sometimes. You have a way of making me feel like I’m at the top of the world sometimes, but sometimes I feel like I’ve hit rock bottom.”
You understood that completely. When you and Jeonghan had your good moments together, you felt like you were soaring. However, when you were reminded about how little time he had left on Earth, you wanted to shut out the rest of the world and hide.
“We can figure it out together,” you told him, reaching forward to grab his hand and squeeze it.
Jeonghan’s eyes always looked different to you, like melted amber. They held many millennia of age and experience, so it felt like Jeonghan was unfazed by most aspects of life he encountered. Nothing could make the man falter.
But now, with evident panic in his eyes, newfound confidence surged through your blood that compelled you to get on your tip-toes and press a chaste kiss to his lips. It was a seemingly tame sign of affection, so you were thrown off when Jeonghan quietly slid a finger past the hem of your jeans. With his head dipped, the demon looked at you through his long, feathery lashes.
“Are you… are you hungry?” you stammered out.
“No,” he mumbled, raising his head to meet your eyes with his expectant ones. “Two people who like each other… Normally, this would lead to dating, wouldn’t it?” When you nodded, he continued, “How about it, then?”
“How about what?”
“Let’s go out.”
Your mind went blank for a moment. With how straightforwardly he said it, you would have thought Jeonghan was messing with your head, trying to push your buttons by teasing you. But his face looked determined this time, like he actually meant it. You could see the red glow of his eyes as he waited for an answer.
You blinked. “Like, as boyfriend and girlfriend?”
“Yes, as boyfriend and girlfriend,” Jeonghan confirmed, exasperated. He gripped your hand tighter, as if he was getting his feelings across with a gentle squeeze. “Like Hallie and Noah.”
“It’s Allie.”
“Yeah, whatever.” He scoffed, surprisingly tender in the way he cupped your cheeks and pulled you closer. You were still a bundle of nerves, but something about Jeonghan made you feel secure. Quite the opposite of how you theoretically should feel around a demon. “Hey,” he tried again, his voice no louder than murmur, “I wanna kiss you.”
You smiled. “Then do it already.”
And so he did.
Jeonghan had kissed you before, but it was nothing like this. It seemed so urgent before, like you both knew you were running out of time. This time, though, he was slow, taking his time to memorize the shape of your lips as he moved his mouth against yours. You felt his long lashes tickle your cheeks, and it almost made you giggle, so you had to pull back to regain your composure. Jeonghan looked down at you, chest heaving even though the kiss was nothing but gentle.
“Again,” you pleaded.
Immediately, his current expression turned cocky. The corner of Jeonghan’s mouth lifted in amusement, and he kissed you not-so-gently this time. He pulled your body flush against his, and you reciprocated by wrapping your arms around his neck. The moment he slid his tongue past your lips, you heard a soft groan from Jeonghan that made your knees buckle under you.
Jeonghan held your waist with one hand and the back of your head with the other. Even though you were still standing on two feet, you were sure that he could hold you up, anyway. He gripped you like he never wanted to let you go.
“You taste good,” he mumbled against your lips.
“You taste like… coffee.” You made a face and let a giggle slip.  
“Well, it’s a good thing you like coffee.”
“Not when I’m tasting it secondhand.”
“You know, a minute ago, I wanted to fuck you properly,” he said. “Now, I’m just miffed. Slightly turned on, but still miffed.”
“Fuck me properly?” you asked, sort of embarrassed by how high your voice got. You inched closer, allowing Jeonghan’s finger to toy with the waistband of your underwear. In return, you placed your hand flat against his abdomen, moving it down slowly until you reached his crotch. Jeonghan hissed when you pressed against his growing bulge. “You mean…”
“With my cock, yeah,” he finished bluntly.
It was silent for a moment. You removed your hand, swallowing carefully after realizing that your guardian demon was hard.
Jeonghan wordlessly slid his hand down your pants, maintaining direct eye contact with you. His hand cupped your clothed cunt, and although you tried to resist, you couldn’t help but throb for more contact. You wondered if he just wanted to see your reactions, and you confirmed this by watching his smirk form when you whimpered.
“Oh,” you breathed out.
“Yeah, you like that?”
His voice was heavy, ragged. You felt like you could get drunk off it, so, naturally, you backed up with him until the back of your legs hit the bed. You made a sound of agreement when he hummed, prompting you to answer his question. You couldn’t even form words when all you could think about was being under him. Jeonghan’s palming grew more intense, and you were having a harder time staying upright.
Then, he was occupied with your neck. Jeonghan dragged his soft lips along the flesh, nipping and biting where he pleased. You let out a soft whine when he sucked on that one spot that turned your brain into mush.
“I’m gonna lay you down,” he said, although it felt like a question with the way he was looking at you. His eyes were careful, like he was holding onto your every word before following through. “Am I doing this right?”
You laughed, delighted as he set you down on your bed and got over you. You looped your arms around his shoulders and asked, “What do you mean?”
He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “Am I going about this the right way? I don’t really do this sort of thing.”
You were surprised at his sudden meekness. Judging from Jeonghan’s overwhelming confidence from your past hookups with him, you expected him to carry on with the same arrogance. You never thought he would be so hesitant all of a sudden.
“You’re doing perfect,” you reassured with a chaste peck to his lips.
“Right.” He did one of his breathless laughs, easing your nerves with his grin. “Just tell me if I’m screwing up, then.”
Jeonghan dipped his head again to pepper kisses across your collarbone, working his way back up to the column of your neck. He worked on your sweet spot, biting and sucking until he had successfully left a bruise. You squirmed underneath him the entire time, tugging your hands through his hair and begging for him to fix the ache between your legs.
The demon only chuckled darkly in response. As he bit the shell of your ear, he removed your jeans and underwear swiftly, which you aided by kicking the garments off your ankles. He prodded your cunt with nimble fingers, grinning wider when he saw the desperation in your eyes.
“You’re so wet,” he commented in a silky voice. “All for me, huh?”
“Shut up,” you grumbled, “and take your clothes off already.”
Jeonghan rose up to sit back on your thighs, staring at you the entire time he pulled his shirt off and discarded it to the side. You couldn’t help but ogle at his figure; he was absolutely gorgeous—sculpted by God Himself.
“Don’t do that,” he said gruffly when you reached out to poke his stomach. You deduced that Jeonghan was most definitely ticklish and trying to hide that weakness from you.
“But your reaction was cute.”
He rolled his eyes but smiled, his hands moving to tug at the hem of your shirt. “C’mon, your turn.”
“H-huh?”
Even when Jeonghan gave you head in the past, you always kept your shirt on. He, too, had never stripped down in front of you like this. Surely, you were expecting this to happen, but the thought of being fully naked in front of Jeonghan was intimidating. It felt like you two were reaching a level of intimacy and closeness that you thought was unattainable months prior.
“Don’t worry,” he said. “I already know you’re not wearing a bra. You've gone braless for, like, almost a week now.”
You raised a suspicious brow at him. “You were staring at my tits?”
“No comment.”
Jeonghan placed his slender hands on your waist, squeezing your sides comfortingly as you pulled your shirt off over your head. He watched you with marvel in his eyes, eyes trained on the swell of your breasts. He leaned close to press soft kisses against the skin, whispering praise as he did so. You didn’t peg the demon to be so romantic, but you weren’t complaining.
You heard gentle pattering outside your window while Jeonghan kissed down your chest.
“It’s raining,” you whispered. The two of you broke apart for a brief moment while Jeonghan hastily got rid of his pants and boxers. “An angel’s crying.”
You looked to the side, and you nearly had to look away before Jeonghan could notice how flustered you looked. The demon stood in all his glory. You had seen naked men before, but Jeonghan was, of course, a creature beyond human comprehension. He was the most gorgeous being you had ever come across.
And, strangely enough, for the first time, you didn’t feel that uncontrollable tug of desire when you looked at him. You weren’t compelled to drop to your knees and submit to the demon. Your attraction felt innate, much like how the rain falls so naturally from the sky. Not that Jeonghan ever had you under a spell or anything, but it almost felt like he was becoming more human.
Whether that meant he was losing his powers or was growing accustomed to living as a human, you had no idea.
“You’re beautiful,” he admitted, looking down at you like you were the stars in the night sky.
“Thanks,” you replied shyly.
“That’s your reaction?” He beamed, amused. “Well, whatever. I’d rather you save your voice for when I make you scream, human.”
You thought it would be impossible at this point, but your cheeks grew even hotter. Yet, you couldn’t even chide the demon because he was already getting over you, promptly attacking your neck with more kisses.
You were a soaking mess already, so Jeonghan’s fingers slid into your cunt with ease. You were taken aback yourself by how effortless it was, but you figured two fingers couldn’t hold a candle to the girth of his cock.
You propped yourself up on your elbows to watch how Jeonghan fingered you. Both of you stared at the spot where his fingers disappeared in you, and the sight only turned you on even more. For once, Jeonghan was pleasuring someone else without the favor being returned, yet you had never seen him so satiated. He was thriving off of your moans and cries, like the sounds itself were feeding him.
A moan escaped your lips, fragmenting off into broken whimpers as Jeonghan’s fingers sped up. You felt your thighs start to shake—the preamble of your orgasm building up. Heat bloomed under your skin, and you dug your nails into the demon’s shoulders to warn him.
The warning only spurred him to move his fingers faster—in scissoring motions this time. His thumb found purchase on your clit, circling the ball of nerves slowly. Finally, you fell off the edge, crying out in ecstasy as boundless pleasure tore through your body. Your mind went blank, thinking about nothing but how good you felt. It was like you were bathed in heavenly light.
“I got you,” Jeonghan murmured, kissing the spot under your ear.
If you had half the mind to kick him in the shin, you would. Pretending to comfort you while torturing your swollen clit throughout your orgasm was pure evil. You expected no less from a demon.
“Will you do me a favor and fuck me already?” you asked, exasperated. For good measure, you flattened your palm against his stomach and slid your hand down his abs.
“Alright. Beg for it.”
You balked. “W-what?”
“You want me to fuck you that bad? Then beg for it,” he said with an air of haughtiness. You couldn’t tell if he was joking or not, but the man didn’t budge. “I’m waiting.”
“I am not begging you, that’s so—” You paused. Jeonghan raised a brow, prompting you to continue, so you admitted, “It’s embarrassing!”
He shrugged. “I think we’re both past the point of being embarrassed in front of each other, human.”
You sucked in a sharp breath. “Okay, fine. You want me to beg? I’ll beg.” You laid back down, looping your arms around Jeonghan’s neck once more and pulling him close. “I’ve been waiting months for you to fuck me, so please make me feel good and I’ll…”
“You’ll what?” The mischievous glint in his eyes was unmistakable.
“I’ll be good.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes!” you whined, the agitation growing in your chest. “I’ll be a good girl, okay? I’ll be really, really good.”
“Alright, I’m sold.”
Jeonghan pressed a kiss to your forehead, letting out a light laugh before his demeanor completely shifted. His easygoing smile turned into a proud smirk when he practically folded you in half, throwing one of your legs over his shoulders so that he could line himself up to your entrance. He hummed, teasing your folds with the head of his cock.
You wanted to cry out, to push at his chest and beg him to just fuck you already. All of the teasing had you at your tipping point, and you were about to complain until you felt the tip of Jeonghan’s cock enter you slowly.
Your breath hitched. He hadn’t even completely entered you, and you were already throbbing at the thought of his cock inside you. Jeonghan used one hand to hold your hips down, pushing into you slowly but surely. You could tell he didn’t want to rush or hurt you, so he kept his eyes trained on your face the entire time, gauging whether to proceed based off your reactions.
“Sorry,” he apologized, placing a kiss against your stomach as he continued pushing his way inside you until he bottomed out. Your eyes nearly rolled back once he was fully inside, and all you could do was clench around him until he growled. “Hold still.”
“Keep going,” you begged, holding onto him like he was your anchor. If you let go of him, you were sure you would fall apart.
Jeonghan simpered, looking quite delighted as he started rocking his hips slowly. It seemed as though he was waiting for you to get adjusted to his size. Despite all, you were still clenching around his cock occasionally, leaving him holding onto you tighter and groaning into the crook of your neck. Jeonghan sped up his thrusts and left a bruising grip on your hips.
“You like that?” he asked, and, lord, you nearly came for the second time just by his words.
“Jeonghan!” you cried out, nearly gasping the words. “I… I want—”
“Want what?” he cut you off smoothly, smirking down at your disheveled appearance. He punctuated his words with a sharp thrust. “What do you want, princess?”
You whimpered. “I do wanna be your girlfriend.”
He froze for a moment, stunned. Apparently, that wasn’t the route he was expecting you to take.
Then, the demon’s shock wore off and was replaced with a warm smile. “Yeah?” he asked, leaning down to meet your lips in a sweet kiss. He pulled away to look into your eyes. “I’d be honored to be your boyfriend, Y/N.”
It was like clockwork—the way your orgasm hit you at that very moment. You tightened around him uncontrollably, the sporadic motions causing Jeonghan to cum as well. He pulled out right before his climax, ropes of cum spilling onto your stomach. You watched it pool together with hazy, unfocused eyes, still dazed from your orgasm and sudden confession.
Jeonghan was your boyfriend now.
“I see why mortal men are such fools for women,” Jeonghan said once he collapsed next to you. “If sex is always this good, I would start wars, too.”
“You’re a demon prince. You’ve started wars, anyway.”
“Oh, right.”
Afterward, you taught Jeonghan a thing or two about aftercare. The concept was completely foreign to him, so you informed him that good boyfriends took care of their girlfriends after sex. When Jeonghan told you to just grab a tissue and call it a day, you had to scold him to get him to clean you up.
To your surprise, Jeonghan did a satisfactory job. You half-expected him to do the absolute bare minimum, but you could definitely see that he was trying his best.
So, you bestowed upon him the highest honor: allowing him to sleep with you in your bed.
Jeonghan got under the sheets beside you, wrapping an arm around you once you cozied up to him. It was strange how comfortable you felt with him, especially considering he was your assigned demon. In some parallel universe, you and Jeonghan might have been normal people with normal lives, and you two probably felt the same level of closeness as you did right now.
Neither of you could sleep right away. Jeonghan traced patterns along your arm and you told him countless stories about your childhood. He smiled fondly, intently listening to the life you lived before him.
Later, he kissed you, and, between bated breaths, whispered promises of forever. And eventually, the soft trickling of rain lulled you both to sleep.
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You woke up freezing.
At first, you thought Jeonghan had stolen the blanket. It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary for the Prince of Greed to be, well, greedy. However, considering your limbs were entangled with his, that didn’t seem to be the case.
The feeling was awfully familiar. It was the same sub-zero temperature you experienced when Jeonghan appeared in your room the first time. However, it was brief this time, dissipating as soon as it started.
Although you couldn’t identify the strange man who materialized in the center of your room, you had a good idea of who it was.
“Oh, Belphegor,” Jeonghan greeted without a care in the world, confirming your suspicions immediately. You were amazed that the half-naked demon was completely unfazed by his demon friend coming out of nowhere. Maybe this was just a regular morning for their kind. “About time you showed up.”
Belphegor made a noncommittal sound. “Yeah, well…”
“I can’t believe it took you centuries to fetch the Hand.”
“I was going to do it,” he said, “but then I didn’t want to.”
Jeonghan groaned. “You idiot.”
You gathered up the bedsheets, making sure to cover yourself fully before turning your attention back to the two demons. Maybe if you acted like everything about this situation was normal, it would distract from the fact that you only had a blanket to cover your naked body. The stranger seemed to have no interest in you whatsoever, so you figured he wouldn’t think anything of you and Jeonghan sleeping together.
“Jeonghan!” you hissed, glowering at your startled boyfriend. “It wouldn’t kill you to wake me up?”
“Oh, Y/N,” he started, seeming pleased with himself. He gestured toward the demon next to him, who looked like he had just rolled out of bed himself. “This is Belphegor, but you can call him by his human name: Wonwoo.”
“Nice to meet you,” you said cautiously.
“Hi.”
There was clearly no room for conversation between you two.
“Anyway,” Wonwoo continued, shooting Jeonghan a curious look, “what’re you gonna do with the key? You’re not opening the Outerverse, are you?”
Jeonghan shook his head. “I’m not gonna release the Outer Gods, I’m—”
“Well, that’s good to know,” Wonwoo cut him off, clearly uninterested in the conversation. “Now that I know you’re not trying to kill us all, I’ll get going.”
“Yeah, okay, good talk.”
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Later in the day, you sat on the floor of your living room with Jeonghan and Seokmin. Jeonghan was giving him a rundown of Belphegor’s visit, which didn’t take very long considering he was there for a grand total of nine moments. You almost made an offhand comment about how Jeonghan didn’t give you any time to get dressed, but that would have exposed what went down between you two last night.
Neither of you had even mentioned to Seokmin about sealing the deal.
“Alright, so,” the Quartarion started, “how does this work?”
Jeonghan pulled out a ten dollar bill, a deformed-looking Twinkie, and a tiny bottle of bath salts from the pocket of his sweater. He laid them out carefully around the Right Hand of Doom before looking up at you and Seokmin. A smug grin spread across his face, but you and the angel were flabbergasted.
“A Twinkie?” you asked.
“He likes sweets,” was the extent of Jeonghan’s explanation.
“Primordial Outer God of space-time likes Twinkies. Good to know.”
“And the ten dollars?” Seokmin asked.
“He likes money, too,” Jeonghan said. Before either of you could question the bath salts, he pointed to the bottle and added, “These are just for the vibes.”
Nice.
“Anyway,” Jeonghan continued, “these types of invocations usually require human sacrifices or something along those lines.” Seokmin and him glanced in your direction at the same time, and you shot them each an icy glare. Jeonghan coughed into his fist. “We’re obviously not sacrificing you. I’m just saying he’s more likely to answer me because I’m a demon prince.”
Seokmin looked on edge. “So… are we starting?”
“I don’t want Y/N in the room,” Jeonghan answered.
“What?” you asked, shocked at the sudden dismissal. “Why?”
“He’s so powerful—even knowing of his existence can drive some mortals insane,” Jeonghan muttered darkly. “Seokmin should be fine since he’s an angel, but there’s a chance you’d go mad if you heard his voice, so stay back until I say so.”
He didn’t have to tell you twice. You were already starting to get to your feet the second he mentioned mortals going insane.
“I’ll stand in the hallway, then,” you decided, far too curious to lock yourself in one of the rooms.
You watched as Jeonghan and Seokmin took each other’s hands quietly and exchanged a silent nod of understanding before closing their eyes. Jeonghan then started reciting some strange incantation that was far more complicated than the one you used to summon him. It seemed to drag on for close to a minute before the air around them went still. It was as if they were trapped in a time vortex, suspended in space while all you could do was wait for them to be released.
You took careful steps backward until you were against the wall, and then you sank down to the floor. As much as you tried to calm your nerves, you were riddled with anxiety. You had to physically hold your thigh down to keep it from bouncing.
Jeonghan didn’t tell you how exactly this would go. Hell, he probably didn’t know himself. Because you were so unaware, though, you weren’t sure if what was happening right now was normal or not. The two men weren’t even twitching or breathing; they were like still images.
Minutes stretched on. You weren’t sure how long it had been, but each passing second felt longer than it should have been. There was nothing you could do but wait. Stare at the motionless air around the two boys and wait.
It had probably been around half an hour when Seokmin’s eyes shot open with a loud gasp. You scrambled to your feet immediately, badgering the poor boy with questions to find out what happened while he was just trying to catch his breath. Jeonghan, on the other hand, looked the very image of tranquility when he opened his eyes.
“What is it?” you kept asking. “What happened?”
Seokmin had a strange, distant look in his eyes. He tried to speak several times, but no words came out.
“Could you get him something warm to drink, Y/N?” Jeonghan asked. “I think he’s in shock.”
“I’ll—I’ll make some tea,” you stammered, stumbling over your feet before you could start walking properly. “How about you? Are you—” You stopped yourself once you saw the hint of fear in Jeonghan’s eyes, and it chilled your blood. You couldn’t even fathom what they had just gone through. “I’ll get you a cup, too.”
It took two hours for the two men to recover—slowly but surely. You brought them tea and gave them time to process what they had just been through. It mainly consisted of you sitting to the side and keeping yourself from asking any questions. You figured they’d tell you if they wanted, but you weren’t in any position to press them.
Jeonghan seemed to feel bad for letting Seokmin tag along. He kept glancing at the angel with sad eyes, seeming remorseful. Then, he turned his attention to you. To your surprise, he walked over to where you sat on the couch to sit next to you and lay his head on your shoulder.
“Hey,” you called softly. “Are you feeling better?”
He nodded, although he didn’t look you in the eyes. “You should probably go to your room. Yog-Sothoth told us he’s thinking about my request, so he could be making up his mind any minute now.”
“You’re going back?”
“I guess. It was more like my consciousness was transported there instead of my physical body.”
He said it like it should have been no big deal, but the two were clearly unsettled by their visit. You weren’t sure how to feel about them going back. It could break Seokmin for good. Even though he was an angel-blood, he didn’t have the power that Jeonghan had.
“The fact that he listened to Jeonghan’s request means that he’s considering it,” Seokmin spoke up after a period of silence between you three. “It’s a good thing you didn’t go, Y/N. The Outerverse is the most terrifying realm I’ve ever seen, and I’ve been to Alabama.”
You smiled a little. At least he seemed to be feeling more at ease now.
“They say Yog-Sothoth exists beyond our reality, so he can possibly see other streams of reality that aren’t connected to the branches of Creation,” Jeonghan explained. “That sounds insane, right? When you’re in the Outerverse seeing those pockets of different realities… it can make you go a little crazy. I mean, I’d give Hell a five star Yelp review over the Outerverse.”
Seokmin tucked his head in his folded arms. “I never wanna go to that place again.”
“Well, I’m not exactly planning to have my next birthday party there.”
“Mammon,” a voice boomed in your ears, and the sound itself was weird.​​ There were undertones of echoes in its words, and you couldn’t even tell if the voice was in your head or not.
You didn’t have to ask who it was because the fear in Seokmin’s eyes was unmistakable. Jeonghan straightened up, panicked, but you assumed it was because you were still in the room because he swiftly placed his hands over your ears in an attempt to muffle the sound. You weren’t sure it would help, but you did feel safer that way.
“God of Time, I appreciate your presence.”
“I’ve decided to accept your offer,” Yog-Sothoth said. His voice sounded louder, even with Jeonghan’s hands over your ears. “I’ll help you.”
There was a way.
He removed his hands from the sides of your head, and you sat up straight again. You never thought those four words would light up so much hope inside you, but here you were, beaming like an idiot next to your demon boyfriend. There was a hope for a future between you and Jeonghan—hope that you two could live out the rest of your lives as humans. More importantly, there was hope that you two could live out the rest of your lives together.
For a moment, you were filled with doubt. There was so much at stake for this decision, and you couldn’t fathom someone loving you so much that they would give their world up for you.
“Jeonghan,” you murmured, “are you sure about giving up immortality?”
“I’d rather live a short life with you than spend the rest of eternity longing for what we could have had,” he declared with a fire blazing in his eyes. “I don’t want forever if it’s not with you, Y/N.”
His soft words coupled with his fierce gaze only sent butterflies to the pit of your stomach. You were hopeless when it came to Jeonghan; whatever he said left you like putty in his hands.
“Jeonghan,” Seokmin whispered, looking fearful. He was pointing at the makeshift summoning circle. “The Twinkie’s gone.”
So, the primordial Outer God of space-time was helping Jeonghan out because of a Twinkie. You decided against questioning why the all-powerful being was about to manipulate the fabric of reality over an over-glorified sponge cake.
“But,” Yog-Sothoth’s voice echoed in your ears as he spoke, “for this exchange, I require a sacrifice.”
“A sacrifice?” Jeonghan asked, frowning. “The Twinkie—”
“No, Mammon, not the Twinkie. I want you to bring me a loved one; an eye for an eye.”
You frowned. Jeonghan could split his soul into two—one residing in his demon form in Hell, and the other residing in his human body here—but he had to sacrifice someone he loved? You couldn’t understand how this was a fair exchange; he was already giving up a part of him for this ordeal.
“Sacrifice a loved one in exchange for what I want,” Jeonghan echoed, a faraway look in his eyes. “I’ve seen this before.”
“You have?” Your eyebrows narrowed. “When?”
“Avengers: Endgame.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
“Dude,” Seokmin chimed in, and you were starting to think you were the only one who understood the gravity of the situation. “This is literally Thanos sacrificing Gamora for the Soul Stone.”
“Stop embarrassing us in front of the Outer God!” you whispered harshly.
“Well,” Jeonghan started, his tone growing serious again, “I’m sure you know my choice.”
“Yes, I do.” Yog-Sothoth hummed, and something about it seemed calculative. You wanted to interject and ask Jeonghan what the hell he was talking about, but you felt like you were immobilized. “Very well, then.”
You looked at Seokmin to see if he understood what was going on, but he seemed just as confused as you were. Jeonghan just stared ahead, refusing to look either of you in the eye, and panic rose in your throat. You wanted to trust him, to confidently know that he wasn’t choosing you or Seokmin, but you really didn’t know who else it could have been.
Like Jeonghan told you before, demons didn’t care about anyone or anything. Only you and Seokmin were able to crack him open.
That was why horrifying realization was drawn across both of your faces. Jeonghan was choosing either you or Seokmin, and considering you were the reason he wanted to be mortal in the first place, you were terrified he was going to sacrifice Seokmin. And it seemed like Seokmin was terrified of that possibility, too.
You stood up and grabbed his shoulder. “Jeonghan, you—”
But before you could get any words out, you were sinking and the ground was swallowing you whole.
Everything went dark, and then silence followed.
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You had gone under anesthesia once in your life. It was back when you were thirteen and the doctors had to perform an appendectomy on you. Being sedated didn’t feel like sleeping at all; it felt like closing your eyes and then waking up to a weird jumpcut in your memory. You remembered being extremely disoriented at first, not even realizing what had just happened to you.
Now, as your eyes fluttered open, you felt the same way.
You were tucked in your bed, which had to have been impossible because you were in the living room when everything turned black. You sat up to gather your bearings. Your head was a mess for a second, unable to focus on one thing at a time.
Jeonghan. Seokmin. Yog-Sothoth. Twinkies. Sacrifice.
The words etched themselves in your bones until you felt dread seep in. If you were still in your bed, completely unharmed, that meant Jeonghan had gotten rid of Seokmin. You looked down at your hands, and you realized they were shaking before you could stop yourself.
“Jeonghan!” you yelled, furious. Before he could hurry to your room, you stormed out, fighting back tears. Just as you thought, he was rushing down the hallway to see you, but you weren’t in the mood for a happy reunion. “How could you?!”
He looked confused. “Didn’t… didn’t you want this? I’m human now, Y/N.” A bright smile broke across his face. “Yog-Sothoth split my soul, so Mammon’s back in Hell where he belongs, but I’m here to stay as a human.”
You punched his shoulder. Hard.
“Okay, ow,” he complained. “Y/N, I—”
“Don’t,” you warned. Your voice was wavering and you could feel your throat closing up. “I don’t wanna hear it after what you did to Seokmin. You promised me you wouldn’t kill him!”
As if on cue, the angel-blood, who was supposed to be dead, peaked into the hallway from where he was in the living room. He had a bowl of ice cream in his hands, shaking his head at you repeatedly.
“I’m not dead,” he clarified, even though you could very clearly see that. “I’m alive.”
“Oh.” You had to take a step back because now, you were more confused than ever. “You’re alive.”
“You sound disappointed. Don’t worry, I’m not gonna steal your boyfriend.”
“I’m not! I’m… really fucking confused—wait, you found out we’re dating, too?” You turned to look up at Jeonghan. “Wait, so who’d you sacrifice, then? What happened after I blacked out? I feel like I’m so in the dark right now.”
Jeonghan looked down at his feet, suddenly glum. “I sacrificed my pet.”
“Mount Fu—I mean, Doljjong? I thought it was dead already?”
“No, my other pet.” He showed you his phone screen, which was on an article about Mount Vesuvius going extinct. “Jjongddol.”
“Oh, another rock.” You tried to sound sympathetic, but it was hard to feel bad for a volcano. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”
“He’s not even sad about it!” Seokmin argued, pointing his spoon at Jeonghan in an accusatory manner. “He gaslit the Time God!”
Jeonghan huffed. “I am sad, okay! Just because it took me a while to remember his name doesn’t mean I don’t have fond memories with Doljjong!”
“Jjongddol,” you corrected.
“Oh, right—Jjongddol!”
You smiled, taking his face into your hands. “You know what this means, though?”
Jeonghan looked at you, eyebrows lifting in pleasant surprise. “What?”
(“Oh, Christ, they’re gonna start making out,” Seokmin muttered and hurried back to the couch. “I’m gonna look for movies on the TV, Jeonghan!”)
“It means we finally have all the time in the world to ourselves, Yoon Jeonghan.” You got on your toes to press a chaste kiss to his lips, which he reciprocated almost immediately. “I’m a little sad I don’t have a guardian demon anymore, though, even if he sucked at his job.”
“Hey, I didn’t suck!” He pouted a little, which you laughed at. “Now, though, you get to show me how to be a proper human.”
“Oh, shoot. We need to find you a place to live since my lease only allows one person, and then we need to figure out getting your documents in order, and then—”
Jeonghan cut you off with a laugh. “I’m on board for all that, but I’d really like to celebrate my new life right now by watching a movie with my best friend and girlfriend.” He slung an arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer, and you couldn’t help but giggle. “And then tonight I’d like to—”
“Alright, alright!” you interjected, feeling your face go hot. “You know, the demon part of you might be gone power-wise, but I don’t know about personality-wise.”
“You love it, though.”
“Jeonghan, let’s watch Superbad!” Seokmin called from the living room.
“Okay!” Jeonghan turned to you and held out his hand. “Come on. I heated up popcorn and even put in some jalapeños for you.”
“Hey.” You stopped him, and you weren’t exactly sure why, but you felt so overwhelmed by your emotions at the moment. There were so many forces against you two, yet you still managed to fight the odds. A constant storm you both battled to stay together, and only now you felt like you could finally breathe. So, when Jeonghan looked at you, the words came out naturally. “I love you.”
He looked at you for a moment, before his face broke into one of those heartbreakingly beautiful smiles again. “I love you, too, Y/N.”
Now it was your time to smile and grab his hand. “Let’s go watch that movie.”
“Oh, is Y/N watching with us?” Seokmin asked.
“This may come as a shock, but this happens to be my apartment, Seokmin.”
And, as you three watched the movie, you and Jeonghan kept your hands interlocked, unwilling to let go. You thought it was beautiful how two hands could touch and forge a bond like no other. It must have been why you and Jeonghan had made it past every obstacle that came hurtling your way.
In some parallel universe out there, some stream of reality that didn’t branch from Creation, you and Jeonghan were probably normal people who found each other naturally. In that world, neither of you had to go through all the pain and suffering to find each other, to finally end up in each other’s arms. 
But you would choose this reality over that one every single time. You would go through all the trails and tribulations for Jeonghan however many times you needed to because, at the end of the day, the love you two had for each other couldn’t compare to any other reality out there. 
And you would never admit it out loud, but he was right; your guardian demon didn’t totally suck at his job.
6K notes · View notes
haknom · 7 months
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EXES SUCK! — PARK SUNGHOON
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SYNOPSIS ⇾ Park Sunghoon, a former figure skater, and your ex-boyfriend. He was your first love back in high school, and was also your very close childhood friend but distanced away after he left unexpectedly. Now you two don’t communicate anymore which is quite sad but debuting with your newly made friends was amazing. And to help your group with promotions, your manager suggests you to be an MC at Music Bank with another male idol after your debut, only to find out it was your ex-boyfriend, Park Sunghoon.
PAIRING ⇾ idol-ex!sunghoon x idol-fem!reader (ft. enhypen, joonie from ichillin’ as y/n, chaewon from le sserafim as kia, ningning from aespa as mei, liz from ive as daisy, wonyoung from ive as melody, and many mentions of other idols).
WARNINGS ⇾ sunghoon is delulu (what’s a kayla smau if one main character isn’t delulu???), swearing, random time stamps, inside jokes, newjeans is the groups face claim, universe’s songs are from acc kpop groups um, more will be added!
STATUS ⇾ on hold (updates are whenever!)
NOTE ⇾ this idea is like a Year old LOL… it was supposed to come out instead of bad news but then i changed my mind (idol aus were Not my thing back then) TRUST i have good hopes for this one ! — also happy early bday soph 😁
TAGLIST IS CLOSED! ❤️‍🩹
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PROFILEZ — one / two
ONE — 5ALIVE NEVER FALLING!!!
TWO — i’m Alive.
THREE — ROTY + SOTY + AOTY.
FOUR — FATE
FIVE — but the bad news …
SIX — stayc and universe crumbs
SEVEN — funny joke!
EIGHT — surprise surprise!
NINE — does she want me be honest
TEN — reaction pic kms
ELEVEN — THE FUCK???
TWELVE — you’re so fucking in love
THIRTEEN — what the fuck is going on
BONUS CHAPTER — jungwon’s damage control
FOURTEEN — villain arc?
FIFTEEN — you’re y/n right?
SIXTEEN — you never cared
SEVENTEEN — case study for delusion
EIGHTEEN — tba…
NINETEEN — tba…
more coming soon! (unreleased chapter names may change!)
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© haknom 2023 - do not copy, translate, or plagiarize my work on other platforms!
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slytherinslut0 · 7 months
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MATTHEO RIDDLE- Beg For Me
Chapter Seventeen-Info: You and Mattheo have been butting heads for months, since you were assigned as his tutor, and one day during a session full of tense bickering, he has enough.
(This will essentially be a toxic book where we are Theos fucktoy. No love here, very minimal fluff.)
Tags: 18+, DARK THEMES, Sexual Harassment, Asshole!Berkshire, Extreme Depictions of Violence, Blood, SMUT, PIV, Virgin!Reader, Loss of Virginity, Dom!Mattheo, Sub!Reader, Oral Sex, Multiple Orgasm, Dirty Talk, Praise Kink, Degradation Kink.
****FIND THE REST OF THE CHAPTERS HERE.
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Emerging from the closet, you and Mattheo shared one more fleetingly charged moment, your eyes locking in a silent exchange laden with unspoken emotions. With a subtle nod, you both returned to your seats, seamlessly slipping back into the roles you had mastered--the poised Ravenclaw and the bad, rebellious Slytherin. The transition was flawless, but beneath the composed exteriors, a storm of emotions raged.
As the game progressed and the night drew on, your eyes locked with Mattheo's from across the circle more times than you could even begin to count--and as the rest of the room remained blissfully unaware, you were acutely attuned to the dance of hidden desires, an intimate connection that thrived in the shadows.
The game of truth or dare continued, growing more wild with each passing round, until most people involved became to tired to continue. In the midst of all of this, Emily and Tom seemed to hit it off, engrossed in their own conversation which seemed to have started before you had even returned from the closet with Mattheo--and as much as the sight was slightly confusing, you were profoundly grateful for the unexpected friendship between them. It undoubtedly relieved the pressure of having to engage with Tom.
As the night wore on, exhaustion settled deep within your bones. Berkshire, thoroughly intoxicated, was gently escorted to his dormitory by Malfoy, his usual disgusting arrogance now replaced by a drunken stumble. Despite the lingering adrenaline from the evening's events, weariness tugged at your limbs, pulling you towards the comfort of your dormitory.
While Emily and Tom remained engrossed in their conversation, you seized the opportunity to excuse yourself quietly. With polite smiles and casual goodnights, you bid farewell to the remaining members of the circle. Each step you took felt heavier than the last, your energy waning with every movement. The echoes of laughter and conversation faded into the distance as you navigated the familiar corridors, the subdued glow of torchlight guiding your way.
Taking a moment to escape the confines of the castle, you stepped into the tranquil courtyard, leaning against the railing and seeking solace under the vast expanse of stars. The night air embraced you, carrying with it a soothing whisper of tranquility. Breathing in deeply, you let the cool breeze wash over you, attempting to shed the lingering tension from your bones after the intense evening you had just endured.
And in the midst of your attempts to find serenity, the peaceful atmosphere shattered like fragile glass, stumbling footsteps making their way toward you. As you glanced over, you watched an inebriated Berkshire stumble his way into the courtyard, bringing himself dangerously close to you, his usual arrogance magnified by the influence of alcohol. His eyes, glazed and unfocused, fixated on you with a disturbing intensity.
"Shit...what do we have here?" he slurred, his words laced with drunken confidence. "A little bird all alone in the night...don't you know it's fuckin' dangerous to be out here all by yourself?"
Your disgust was palpable as you shot him a withering glare. "Save your pathetic lines for someone who cares, Berkshire," you retorted, your voice dripping with disdain. "The only thing dangerous is my dwindling patience at the mere sight of you."
"Why're you such a bitch, huh?" he slurred, his words carrying the stench of alcohol. His proximity was uncomfortably close, his breath hot against your skin. "Must be 'cause you secretly like me, right?"
Your jaw clenched, a mixture of annoyance and disgust bubbling within you. His words were as repugnant as his alcohol-laden breath. The tension you had been trying to relieve was now replaced by a different kind, a sharp pang of frustration at having to deal with his inappropriate behavior.
"I suggest you find your way back to your dorm," you retorted, your voice firm despite the rising irritation. "Your delusions won't make your company any more welcome."
Berkshire's drunken persistence grated on your nerves like nails on a chalkboard, his obnoxious confidence seeming to inflate with every word you uttered. Before you could process it, he closed the distance between you, his movements erratic, invading your personal space. His clammy hand shot up, gripping your jaw with a force that made your teeth clench, forcing your eyes to meet his in a cruel display of dominance.
"Why won't you just admit it, huh?" he slurred, his words punctuated by the reek of alcohol on his breath. His bloodshot eyes bored into yours, his arrogance seemingly impervious to your clear discomfort. "You can't deny the attraction, sweetheart...I see it in the way you look at me when you think no one's watching."
Your patience snapped like a taut rope. Anger flared in your chest, hot and searing. With a swift movement, you pushed his hand away from your face, your voice cutting through the night with icy precision, a steely resolve in your voice that should have been enough to ward off any sane person.
"Let me make this abundantly clear, Berkshire," you said, your tone as sharp as a blade. "There is no secret admiration, no desire, and certainly no fucking attraction. You're nothing more than a nuisance, and I have no patience for your delusions. Now, back the fuck off before you regret testing my tolerance any further."
Despite your unwavering stance, Berkshire's drunken laughter reverberated through the courtyard, a disturbing echo of arrogance undeterred by your resistance. He jeered, taking another step toward you, his movements unsteady but determined. The cold, unforgiving metal of the railing you had been standing in front of pressed into your back as he cornered you, his breath reeking of alcohol and menace.
Panic clawed at your throat, but you refused to show weakness, your eyes meeting his with a defiant glare. "Berkshire, what are you-"
Ignoring your words, he advanced further, backing you up against the railing until there was nowhere left to retreat. Your heart thundered in your chest, the weight of his aggression bearing down on you. And then, in a moment of terror, he grabbed you, his grip surprisingly strong, squeezing tighter than you had ever expected. Your breath caught in your throat as his fingers dug into your arms, pain flaring through your limbs. The situation had escalated far beyond your control, and the realization struck you like a physical blow.
"Let me go," you demanded, your voice strained but resolute, despite the fear tightening your throat. But Berkshire only tightened his grip, his fingers digging into your skin, his drunken gaze wild and unpredictable. "Enzo, fuck, stop..."
"Shut the fuck up," he growled, he breath grazing over your neck as he pressed himself against you. "You're such a fucking-"
Before Berkshire could finish that sentence, a familiar voice--one usually somewhat smooth and composed, cut through the air with a terrifying intensity.
"Berkshire…if you don't get your fucking hands off of her," the threat in his tone was unmistakable, a promise of unspeakable consequences if ignored. "I fucking swear-"
But Berkshire, lost in his drunken rage, remained heedless, his eyes glazed over with a dangerous mixture of anger and entitlement. “Shut up, Riddle…she fucking wants me…”
You caught Mattheo's eyes from over Enzo's shoulder, ones that once held a glimmer of restraint now blazed with an uncontrollable anger that seemed to ignite the air around him. His usual composure shattered, replaced by a raw, primal fury.
In a heartbeat, Mattheo closed the distance between him and Berkshire, his movements fluid and almost supernatural. His hand shot out like a striking serpent, fingers wrapping around Berkshire's throat like an unyielding vice. The grip was tight, a clear message of the danger Berkshire was in.
“I warned you,” he hissed, and with a swift, powerful motion, Mattheo ripped Berkshire off of you, sending him crashing onto the unforgiving stone ground, a stunned gasp escaping his lips upon impact--Mattheo’s throat was shredded with anger as he growled, “I fucking warned you…”
You stood frozen, your lungs burning as you desperately gasped for air, your vision swimming with a heady mix of fear and relief. Mattheo, his eyes ablaze with fury, descended upon Berkshire like a vengeful deity. His arm darted out, fingers clenching Berkshire's collar in one hand while the other transformed into a merciless fist.
“Stay the fuck away from her…you don’t fucking look at her, you don’t even fucking breathe near her…do you fucking understand me?” Mattheo didn’t wait for a response, the first punch landing with a sickening crack, the sound reverberating through the courtyard like a thunderclap. Mattheo jostled Enzo in his grip, practically spitting his words against his face. “No one gets to fucking touch her…no one except me…fucking no one…”
A momentary pause hung in the air, a fleeting heartbeat of stillness, before Mattheo struck again. And again. And again. He was possessed, every punch a release of the pent-up rage that had been simmering beneath the surface, each blow fueled by a primal instinct to protect, to defend, to punish the one who dared to harm you.
Berkshire's face transformed into a grotesque mask of crimson, his features distorted by pain and fear. The courtyard seemed to pulse with the rhythm of Mattheo's anger, the sound of his blows drowned out by the rapid thudding of your heart--and it wasn't until Draco Malfoy, his normally composed demeanor replaced by wide-eyed shock, entered the fray, that Mattheo's onslaught finally came to a halt.
Malfoy, his strength surprising for someone so slender, managed to pull Mattheo off Berkshire, the latter struggling like a wild animal, his rage still burning brightly, his chest heaving with exasperated fury.
"What the fuck happened here?" Theodore dropped to his knees next to his fallen friend, a mixture of concern and disbelief etched on his features as he met your stunned eyes. "Are you okay?"
"I..." you stammered, your voice barely audible, your mind struggling to comprehend the violence that had just unfolded before you. The shock had rendered you speechless, your throat dry and constricted, words caught in the whirlwind of your emotions. "Yes...I'm okay..."
While you attempted to spit out words, Mattheo's heaving form, still seething with raw anger, ripped himself free from Malfoy's hold. With a voice that carried the weight of his fury, he spoke on your behalf, the words sharp and cutting through the air.
"Berkshire thought he could lay his fucking hands on her is what happened," his voice was cold, each word laced with contempt. "After I warned him...I warned him how many fucking times..."
Mattheo's aura, once magnetic and enticing, was now a tempest, an embodiment of wrath that crackled in the air around him. The atmosphere seemed to vibrate with his intensity, as if the very stones beneath your feet could feel his fury. It was a chilling reminder, mostly to you, that beneath the composed facade, there was a force to be reckoned with, a protector who would stop at nothing to shield you from harm--and that thought did inexplicable, disgustingly shameless things to your fucking body.
Draco Malfoy, his usual cool composure momentarily shaken, stepped away from Mattheo, his eyes assessing the situation with a discerning gaze.
"Let's get him to the hospital wing," he suggested to Theodore, his voice cutting through the tension. Nott, too, recognized the need for immediate action, nodding in agreement, before briefly meeting your eyes. "I'm sorry about him...there's no way he hasn't learned his lesson now...fuckin' sorry little prat..."
You nodded in response as the two of them lifted Berkshire, supporting his battered form between them. As they glanced between you and Mattheo, it was as though a silent understanding passed between Draco and Nott. Their glances met, a knowing look shared, acknowledging that there was something more beneath the surface of this situation. They sensed the unspoken connection, the invisible thread that bound you and Mattheo together, but they chose not to pry. Instead, they respected the unspoken boundaries, allowing the complexities of your relationships to remain your own.
Meanwhile, Mattheo turned his attention back to you, his eyes a tumultuous blend of emotions, the storm within him slowly subsiding as he registered the shock lingering in your eyes. With a soft yet determined expression, he stepped closer, his presence becoming a comforting shield against the aftermath of the confrontation that had left both of you shaken.
"Raven, I'm so fucking-" he began, his voice thick with regret and unspoken apologies.
"I'm fine, Mattheo." You cut him off, your heart pounding in your chest, the sight of his breathless, bloodied and dishevelled form doing dangerous things to your cunt--and you knew, more than anything, you just wanted to be alone with him. "Please just take me back to your dorm."
His brows furrowed in confusion, but the desperation in your eyes didn't leave room for questions.
"What-" he started to inquire, but you took a step closer, your neck arching slightly to catch his dark, penetrating gaze.
"Take me back to your dorm," you repeated. "Please."
Upon hearing the raw desperation in your voice, Mattheo nodded, his fingers gently finding yours as he immediately led you down the hall and through the empty corridor to his dorm. The moment he pushed the door open, allowing you to step inside, it felt as though the temperature in the room had increased to a million bloody degrees. The air was thick with unspoken tension, a potent mix of fear, desire, and the undeniable pull that had always existed between you, intensified now by the events of the night.
As you cautiously stepped into his dorm, your eyes were drawn to the familiar sight of the astronomy book lying open on his desk. The memory of the last time you had been in his dorm flashed in your mind--the same book, sitting untouched on his desk, an odd object in the midst of his carefully curated chaos.
"Why do you still have this out?" you questioned, your voice laced with curiosity and a hint of suspicion.
The question hung in the air, laden with unspoken implications. Mattheo hesitated, his stormy eyes locking onto yours in a moment of vulnerability.
"Can't a man indulge in the mysteries of the stars whenever he fancies?" he retorted with a smirk, attempting to deflect the gravity of the situation. His voice carried a hint of playfulness, but the tension beneath the surface was palpable. "Or perhaps stargazing is an art reserved solely for beautiful little ravens, hm?"
"Is it because of me?" Your stare bore into him, a mix of curiosity and suspicion flickering in your eyes. “Is it because of me that you have this book?”
He didn't deny it; instead, after a long, silent moment, he simply nodded, almost impenetrably, his gaze never leaving yours. It was a silent admission, a confession that hung heavy in the charged atmosphere of the room. In that moment, the undeniable pull between you became almost tangible, the invisible thread connecting your hearts growing stronger, defying the boundaries you had desperately tried to impose.
You stepped toward him. "Did you miss me, Mattheo..."
Mattheo met your gaze, his expression enigmatic yet stoic, a mask of his usual arrogance and charm slipping back into place. His silence lingered for a moment, the air thick with unspoken tension.
Then, in a voice that held a depth of emotion he was trying to conceal, he replied, "Maybe I did, Raven..."
You moved closer, the air crackling with need as you closed the distance, your heart pounding in your chest. When you finally stood before him, close enough to feel the heat radiating off his body, you dared to reach out, your fingers brushing against his cheek. His skin was warm, and beneath your touch, you could sense the subtle tremor that betrayed the restraint he was exercising. Your breath caught in your throat as you tilted your head, your lips hovering just millimeters from his.
"Don't be shy, Mattheo..." you murmured, teasing him with your fingers as you trailed over his jawline. "Why don't you show me how much you missed me..."
Mattheo's jaw clenched under your touch, his dark eyes smoldering with an intensity that matched the simmering desire between you. You sighed when his hands, strong and possessive, found their way to your hips, pulling you closer with a magnetic force that left you breathless. His restraint wavered, the barrier between temptation and surrender growing thinner by the second.
"Salazar fucking save me..." Mattheo's voice was a raspy whisper, a plea and a challenge rolled into one, his vulnerability veiled behind a facade of arrogance. "Who the hell are you..."
You leaned in, your lips hovering dangerously close to his, your eyes locking onto his with a daring intensity.
"Sorry to break it to you, Riddle," you purred, your voice a seductive melody that echoed in the charged space between you. "But I'm afraid not even your maker could save you now..." a teasing smile tugged at the corners of your lips, your breath mingling with his. "Better start counting your blessings..."
"Blessings, huh?" Mattheo's lips curved into a half-smirk, his voice low and dangerous, sending a shiver down your spine. "I'd much rather count the seconds until I can taste those sweet fucking lips of yours..."
His words sent a jolt of desire through you, your heart pounding in response to his brazen confidence.
"Gods, you really are a changed man, aren't you?" You murmured, fighting your smirk as his fingers tightened their grip on your hips. "You were never one to wait for permission before..."
"Raven," his voice was a low, raspy whisper, the intensity in his eyes burning brighter. "You're really testing my fucking patience here...and you should know I'm not a patient man..."
Your smirk grew, heat flushing your cheeks, your fingers tracing a tantalizing path along the underside of his jawline, now, teasingly slow.
"Maybe I enjoy testing your limits…maybe I want to see how far I can push you..." you muttered, your voice laced with playful defiance. "Or perhaps I just like watching you squirm, Riddle...perhaps I want to hear you beg for me..."
Mattheo's patience snapped like a taut wire, his eyes narrowing with a mixture of exasperation and desire.
"Look at you, huh...all fucking smug..." he growled, his voice edged with playful frustration as he peered down at you. "You've kept that pussy from me for over two fucking weeks and now you want to tease me like this? Did you forget how bloody fast I can make you crumble for me..."
Your defiant facade began to crack under the intensity of his gaze, a shiver running down your spine.
"Gods, maybe I did..." your voice barely above a whisper, the defiance replaced by a flicker of vulnerability. "Maybe I need you to remind me..."
"Shit...there she is...there's my good fucking girl..." he murmured, his tone a mixture of reverence and desire. "...tell me what you want, Raven..."
A sigh of satisfaction slipped past your lips as his hands tightened their grip, his touch searing into your hips as though he was trying to hang on to his last shreds of willpower. With a trembling voice, you met his dark, penetrating eyes, wetting your lips as you let yourself drown in their depths.
"You," you whispered, your voice a husky admission. "I want you."
He exhaled. "Then fucking have me."
In a whirlwind of desire, his lips crashed onto yours, sending your senses into a frenzy. Your eyelids fluttered shut as both of you inhaled sharply through your noses, trying to catch your breath amidst the electrifying kiss. His hands, strong and possessive, tangled in your hair, pulling you closer with an urgency that matched the racing beat of your heart. Your lips parted in a soft groan of surrender, inviting him in, and his tongue slipped between your teeth with a hunger that bordered on desperation.
His lips moved over yours, claiming every inch as though he needed you to survive, and your fingers found solace in the dark waves of his hair, gripping them tightly. Mattheo responded with a primal sound, a low grunt of satisfaction that resonated between your entwined bodies. With a swift motion, he spun you around, his lips never leaving yours, walking you backwards until the backs of your knees met the edge of his bed. The kiss deepened, his mouth exploring yours with a deliberate slowness, his fingers continuing their sensual dance through your hair, pulling you impossibly closer, melting the space between you.
Mattheo's tongue danced a tantalizing dance inside your mouth before he withdrew, leaving a lingering connection between your lips. In that moment, silence enveloped both of you, rendering you nearly motionless, lost in a whirlwind of emotions, unsure of what to say, think, or do. You felt the undeniable hardness of his arousal pressing against your belly, causing a flicker of anticipation to ignite within you. Your hands instinctively moved towards the hem of your shirt, but he halted you with a gaze as hard as stone.
"No," he said, his voice low and commanding. "Let me."
A flush of scarlet painted your cheeks, but you nodded in silent consent, your throat tight with anticipation. His fingers bunched the fabric of your shirt, lifting it up and off of you. As you raised your arms, granting him permission to undress you further, he completed his task with deliberate care. The fabric landed on the floor with a soft rustle, discarded and forgotten, while his eyes roamed over every newly exposed expanse of your skin.
It was a ritual you knew you’d never tired of, the way he looked at your body as if it was a masterpiece, a gift he hadn't been prepared to receive.
Under the intensity of his gaze, a cascade of warmth flooded through you, your skin tingling with awareness. His hands skillfully moved behind you, unclasping your bra with practiced ease. He pushed it off your shoulders, the fabric gliding down your arms, his fingers skimming over the surface of your skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.
He paused for a moment, his eyes meeting yours in a silent question, before gracefully sinking to his knees in front of you. His warm breath ghosted over your belly, holding your stare as to ask for permission before he hooked his thumbs under the rim of your pants and panties, peeling them down your thighs, revealing your sensitive sex to him--inch by torturous inch.
A shiver rippled through your nerves, sending a thrill down your spine as his molten-gold eyes held yours with hunger that seemed to consume everything in its path. His gaze didn't waver for a single moment, even as he expertly removed your shoes and tossed them aside carelessly.  As he rose, his palms trailed over the contours of every curve, his touch igniting a trail of electric sensations in their wake. He towered over you, a commanding presence that left you breathless, and one of his hands delicately cupped your face, his thumb tracing the outline of your lower lip with a gentle intensity that sent your heart racing.
"Lie back," he murmured.
Your fingers quivered with anticipation as you nodded, succumbing to the electric tension in the air. Slowly, you eased yourself back onto the mattress, adjusting your position so you could lie flat against the soft bedding.
Mattheo prowled around the perimeter of the bed, his intense gaze scorching your skin, leaving a trail of heat in its wake. Each step he took seemed deliberate, his movements exuding a raw, primal energy. After a moment, he paused, his fingers deftly working on the buttons of his bloodied dress-shirt. With a fluid motion, he peeled off the fabric, revealing the chiseled contours of his chest. His pants followed suit, dropping to the floor until he stood before you in just his boxers.
From this angle, the sight of him made your cheeks flush and your breath hitch in your throat. The raw masculinity and confidence he exuded was both breathtaking and overwhelming, leaving you yearning for more as he loomed over the bed, the outline of his throbbing cock straining the fabric of his boxers doing unspeakable things to your body--the sight of it against the background of hard, tense muscle made you clench, and you bit your lip to hide a moan that was sneaking its way out of your mouth.
And even though you knew he noticed, he said nothing, even as his knee dropped into the mattress, even as he shifted, crawling over you, until he hovered above you, looking more fucking angelic than he ever had before, looking like a man filled with devotion, passion and need.
"Mattheo..." fear was mixing with the pull of lust. You'd never seen him like this. "Matty, I--"
"Shh," he said, pushing a strand of hair away from your temple. "Relax for me, princess..."
You drew in a shaky breath, and nodded--and his lips pressed into yours, plush and wet, before he moved, leading a tingling line of kisses down your cheek, to your jawline, to your neck. Leaning in, he caressed your throat with his warm mouth and you gasped, back arcing into him. In response, Mattheo purred, laying layer after layer of soft, wet marks on your sensitive flesh. One large hand slid down your arm while he kissed his way to your breast, nuzzling his cheek into the valley of your chest before drawing a nipple between his lips.
A cry escaped you, your hips bucking into his abdomen. "Oh, Gods..."
"Shh," he said again. "Relax, angel..."
The nickname he called only made you want to writhe more. Your mind internally fucking screaming with need. Taking a deep breath, you nodded anyway.
"My angel," he repeated, planting slow, soft kisses on your stiffening bud. "My fucking sweet little angel..."
He took your nipple into his mouth again, moaning while he suckled it swollen, his hands painting pleasure on your swathes of naked, aching skin. You whimpered, nibbling on your lip to silence any sound, hands slowly slithering their way through his messy, yet beautiful fucking hair. As you tightened your grip on his strands, a groan slipped past his teeth, and he flicked the tip of your peak with his tongue before releasing it, mouth making a hot trail along your navel, his hands massaging up and down the outside of your thighs.
"You're doing so well," he whispered into your stomach. "You're so fucking beautiful..."
"Matty..." you whined, his words creating a storm of bliss in your chest. You didn't know what else to say.
"Keep being good for me..." he kissed his way to the mound of your pussy, holding a rumble in his chest as his lips grazed the top of your slit. "Are you ready?"
Are you ready? He just fucking asked if you were ready. As you gazed at him, his pink lips glistening with saliva, eyes smoldering with desire, the answer became crystal clear.
"Yes," you said. "Yes, I'm ready."
Without further hesitation, Mattheo lowered his head between your legs, your entire body jolting in pleasure   as he licked a broad, flat band up your sex, feeling your fingers twirling in the curls of his hair. His mouth was hot and eager as he showered your folds with deep, heavy kisses, sending shivers of delight throughout your entire being. Mattheo's hands held your thighs in place as he slicked his strong tongue in between your slit, each touch sending waves of pleasure coursing through your core. Your eyes were fixed upon him, unable to look away from the sight of him worshipping your cunt with his mouth.
"You taste incredible," he cooed, leaving soft kisses along the crease of your thighs. "You know that I thought about this little pussy everyday, don't you?"
Your breath hitched. "Y-you did?"
"Mmhm."
He returned to working his tongue along your inner-folds, gathering your juices along the tip, humming while he swallowed--he was deliberate, taking his time to memorize every bit of your pussy, to draw as much cum from your core as he could. You whined, your clit desperate for attention.
"Matty..." you pleaded, "please..."
Mattheo's gaze met yours as he hummed, sealing his lips around your swollen nub. The intensity of the pleasure collided into you, causing a wracking sob to escape your lips as your eyes closed in ecstasy. His  grip tightened on your thighs, tugging you closer to his face. As he sucked on your clit, he gradually built up the pressure, block by block, pushing you towards the peak of orgasm.
Your hips relentlessly rolled into him, urgent moans filling the air as you fell further and further toward overwhelming bliss. "Fuck, Mattheo...Gods..."
His hands left your thighs, exploring your body, gripping and kneading any inch of flesh they could find, until they finally rested on your breasts, thumbs tracing small, gentle circles on your hardened nipples.
"Oh, fuck," you said, "fuck, fuck..."
As the intensity of your pleasure peaked, any words leaving your lips devolved into incoherent wailing. You teetered on the edge, straining against a wall of unrelenting bliss that threatened to overtake you completely. Then, with two hard sucks, Mattheo eased you over, drawing out your climax long and slow against his mouth. Ecstasy consumed you, numbing your skin as your limbs shook and trembled. Every sensation was intensified as he pulled you through wave after wave of pleasure, groaning as your juices coated his lips, your core throbbing and pulsing at his chin.
It felt like an eternity before he finally released you, dragging his tongue up the top of your slit as he panted and gasped for breath alongside you. The aftermath of your intense orgasm left both of you struggling to regain your senses.
Your head rolled along the mattress, lids fluttering open, hands petting at his hair. "Fuck, Mattheo...that was..."
"Shh." He licked his lips, gaze liquefying your center, and returned his focus to your belly, kissing a steady path to your sternum, his hands still stroking at your skin. "I need you to know how much I missed everything...and I mean fucking everything..."
"Oh," was all that left your mouth, teeth pinching your lip when it began to tremble.
"From your perfect fucking tits to your filthy little mouth..." one hand started to palm at your breast, the other still gliding up your side as he inched forward. "From those delicious fucking thighs to that pretty little pussy..." he was at your neck, now, rasping into it, the heat of his body enveloping you. "Every inch of you is fucking perfect...fuck the drugs Raven, you are my insatiable goddamn addiction..."
Every syllable that escaped his lips seemed to caress your very soul, igniting a wildfire of longing within you. His words were like a spell, weaving around your heart and wrapping you in a cocoon of desire. You craved him in a way that transcended the physical, a hunger that went bone-deep. It wasn't just the touch of his skin against yours that you yearned for; it was the merging of your essence, the melding of your souls into an ethereal dance of passion. You wanted to dissolve the boundaries between you, to lose yourselves in a realm crafted solely for your bodies, where every touch and sigh was a symphony of fervor.
And as you met his gaze, there it was, in his eyes--an unnamed emotion that pulsed between you, an unspoken truth that bound you together in a way words could never encapsulate. It was a force beyond reason, an irresistible pull that drew you closer, time after fucking time again.
"You once called me a plague but fuck...you have no fucking idea..." his voice, raw with desire, clawed its way out of his throat. "I haven't even fucked you, Raven...how the fuck have you done this to me?"
Your heart skipped a beat, fingers instinctively curling in his hair. "Do you want to?..."
Mattheo hesitated, as if time itself hung suspended. His eyes searched your face, seeking the truth in your words, and then, he answered, his voice a low rasp,
"Of course I do..." he breathed. "But after what happened tonight-"
"No," you cut him off, your body moving restlessly beneath his. "After what happened tonight, I only want you more...I've never fucking wanted you so fucking badly, Mattheo...it was you who defended me, not Tom, not Zabini, you...it's always been you..."
Mattheo's jaw tensed, his eyes darkening, his chest heaving. "You want me to fuck you..." he said, as though he was trying to make himself believe it. "You want me to take your virginity..."
You nodded, a silent confirmation of your desire, but Mattheo's fingers found their way to your jaw, his touch surprisingly gentle, yet firm. He held your gaze, his eyes searching yours for any hesitation, any uncertainty.
"Say it, Raven," he murmured, his voice low and commanding. "You know I need to hear you say it. Tell me you want me to take your virginity."
Your breath caught in your throat, his proximity overwhelming your senses. With a shaky inhale, you met his intense gaze, your voice coming out as a mere whisper, "I want you to take my virginity, Mattheo."
"Fucking hell..." he breathed, the desire in his tone making your core scream. "You know that means-"
"I'm yours." You cut him off. "Even though all of this could fuck up my entire future, I don't care...I'm yours...I submit my sanity to the disaster that is sneaking around with you, Mattheo...I don't want the safe option, I don't want soft or subtle...I want dangerous, I want messy, I want sins...I fucking want you..."
"Salazar fucking save me..." he breathed after a long moment of staring at you, shifting himself to pull down his boxers, his throbbing cock springing free, smacking against his belly. "You really are a little fucking devil..."
You clenched at the sight of his dick, head glistening with precum, twitching insistently as he shifted, looping an arm under your neck and cradling your head, his face nestling into your neck while his other hand directed the head of his dick against your wet folds, slicking itself along your wetness, your entire body tensing at the foreign sensation.
He was so fucking big...you weren't sure if, "are you even going to fit...you're so fucking-"
"Shh, Raven." Mattheo huffed against your neck, angling back to meet your eyes, that devilish smirk plastered across his lips. "I'll make it fit."
At his words, you clenched again, unable to deny the intoxication of his primal arrogance, his eyes fixed on your face as he angled himself at your core now, the anticipation radiating off of him only fuelling your hunger, sending thrills through every inch of your body.
"Relax," he breathed, eyes boring into yours, the hand behind your head keeping you in place. "And look at me...I want you looking into my fucking eyes as you feel yourself stretching out for me..."
With a nod, you held his stare, and slowly, deliberately, he pushed himself inside of you, inch by inch, letting you gasp and wince while his thick length stretched you open, until he was fully sheathed within your tightness. The sensation was overwhelming, stretching you to your limit, beyond anything you ever thought possible, and Mattheo only seemed to grow harder with each gasp that left your lips. With him completely seated inside of your cunt, you felt him pulsing at the hilt, felt his already urgent need to cum inside of you. But instead of moving right away, he jerked you closer to his chest, his lips softly grazing yours as he brought his hand to cup your jaw.
"Are you okay?" His voice was torn, shredded, nearly unrecognizable.
You nodded, holding his eyes. "I'm okay."
"Shit, Raven..." a deep groan left his chest as he exhaled, pulling out and plunging back in as slowly and carefully as he had the first time. "You're so fucking tight...fuck..."
You mewled--between the passion in your chest and the newfound sensations between your legs, your head was spinning, something was close to bursting. His skin was so hot against you, and you gripped him tighter, another moan leaving your chest, chin shaking beyond your control, the pleasure and pain commingling in your mind as you surrendered to his skilled touch--Mattheo stared at you through it all with gleaming eyes before he smothered your lips with a kiss, burning and short.
"Is this what you wanted?" The low thunder of his voice melted in your ears, and he murmured your name. "Tell me..."
Your fingers dug into his skin, your voice torn between gasps. "Yes, Mattheo..." you mewled. "It's all I've wanted."
He leaned forward, lips feathersoft on yours, kissing you, still easing his cock into you with careful rolls of his hips. The grip at your head soothed your scalp--and you could feel it, could feel yourself blending with his body as he pushed deeper and deeper inside of you, could feel your pulses pounding in pace, could feel the unspoken, intangible harmony coiling in your blood.
"Who else can make you feel like this, hm?" His embrace constricted you, now, stilling you while he rocked deep into you, stuffing you full, his free hand travelling down your belly, grazing over your clit--and you choked, whimpered, limp in his arms. "Tell me who this tight little pussy fucking belongs to..."
The pleasure was overwhelming, earth shattering, entirely all encompassing. Your lids fluttered, your brain spinning. "Oh, Gods...oh my fucking-"
"Look at me, Raven..." he ordered, voice torn. "Look at me or I'll stop."
Reluctantly, you opened your eyes, nails biting into his skin, heart pounding in your throat as you felt your sanity dangerously fucking close to shattering, your entire body encompassed in a pleasure that you've never known, a pleasure that only Mattheo fucking Riddle could give you, one that burns you from the inside out, one that shatters every inch of your resolve, leaving you bare before him.
"Tell me..." he whispered, his fingers twirling your clit. You could tell he was close, too. "Fuck...fucking say it…”
"You," you mewled, lost in the melted chocolate swirls of his irises. "It fucking belongs to you, Mattheo...fuck...only you..."
"Shit..." he groaned your name, sucking at your shoulder, tongue leaving hot lines on your neck. "You love being dirty for me..." his fingers whirled your clit faster. "You love being my nasty little slut, don't you?"
"Yes, yes, Mattheo..." you wailed, body trembling beneath him. "I love it..."
"Fuck--" A feral kiss bruised your lips, his cock splitting you with long thrusts. "That's it..." he muttered your name against your mouth. "Cum--cum for me, let me feel you..."
You shattered. "Gods--Matty! Fuck..."
Euphoria rended you wide, tearing at the seams of your sanity, and you fractured, convulsing with the sheer strength of your climax. Your walls spasmed around his dick, milking him hard, and Mattheo held you, mouth meeting yours as he came, hips hitting you with every rush of rapture as he quickly followed after you, spilling his release inside your cunt. This seemed to last for minutes, the aftershocks of bliss rippling through your bodies at once while you remained there catching breath, still connected.
You were wilted, spent, a collection of skin and cum and sweat, and when Mattheo finally pulled out, he slumped down on the mattress beside you, pulling you back into his chest, nothing but the collective sounds of your exhausted panting filling the air, neither of you willing to move even though you knew you couldn't stay here all night--but your drooping lids didn't care, your body succumbing to slumber without giving you a choice.
And as you drifted off, you couldn’t help but question how a boy who once had been the bane of your fucking existence, had now become the centre of it.
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