match made in hell
[ J. Yunho ]
╚═════════ ⛧ keyword: hell
summary: she was a one night stand until he saved her life now they’re bound for eternity
warning: dom yunho, sub reader, oral, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, spitting, choking, squirting, breeding, creampie, mentions of death
genre: dark romance, supernatural, smut
pairing: prince of hell yunho x afab human reader
word count: 6.1k
chp 2
masterlist
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The apartment door practically slammed open. The hinges creaking loudly in the old exterior as rain poured outside and thunderous booms echoed as flashes of lightning decorated the sky. It was as if mother nature herself was lashing out at what was happening.
“Fuck…” His lips moved to her neck as tossed his jacket off and lifted her, pinning her to the wall. “I need to taste you.” Normally, Yunho wouldn’t beg. Being a 400 year old demon prince, he’s used to getting what he wanted but something about her…. he’d drop to his knees if he had to. “No one is stopping you.” She smirked and a deep, primal growl rumbled from Yunho’s chest the second those words left her lips and his grip on her thighs tightened, fingers digging into her thighs as he pulled her harder against him. “Where’s your bedroom?” he demanded, voice low and rough like gravel dragged over silk.
“Down the hall… across from the bathroom,” she breathed, barely finishing before he was already moving. He carried her like she weighed nothing, long strides eating up the distance while she stayed pressed to his chest and her legs locked around his waist. The door to her bedroom swung open with a kick and he dropped her onto the mattress and started following her down immediately to claim her mouth again in a bruising kiss as his hands worked fast but deliberately to yank the ripped jean shorts down her legs and tossing them aside before he peeled the black tank top she had on upward, exposing smooth skin inch by inch. The bra came next, unclasped with a flick of his fingers, not that she could see that, and dragged it down her arms.
Yunho didn’t rush the reveal. He lowered his mouth to her breasts, kissing the swell of each one before his tongue dragged slow, wet circles around her nipples. He sucked one between his lips, teeth grazing just enough to make her arch, then switched to the other, nipping and leaving faint red marks that would darken later as his hands slid under her, lifting her body higher up the bed until her head rested against the pillows. “Ride me,” he growled, the command vibrating through the air between them and in one swift motion he hooked his fingers into her panties and stripped them off before dragging her forward until her thighs straddled his face.
He held her there with an iron grip on her hips, mouth opening wide to devour her pussy. His tongue thrust deep inside her without warning, fucking into her with wet, obscene sounds while he growled against her. “Fuck, this pussy… best I’ve ever tasted,” he rasped between licks, the words carrying centuries of experience she couldn’t possibly understand. He sucked her clit, tongue flicking rapidly until her thighs shook and she came hard on his face but Yunho didn’t let her lift off. He kept her pinned, licking every drop clean with long, slow strokes until she whimpered from oversensitivity. Only then did he release her, pulling her down his body while his mouth trailed kisses across her stomach and sides.
He sat up just long enough to yank his shirt over his head, then shoved his pants and underwear down, kicking his shoes off in the process and let her look. Her eyes dropped immediately to his dick, thick, heavy, and already leaking at the tip. It twitched under her gaze, veins prominent along the length. She reached for him without thinking, sliding off the bed to kneel between his legs, reaching and wrapping her hand around the base, stroking upward in a slow glide before her tongue followed the same path, licking from balls to tip with deliberate patience.
She barely had time to open her mouth before Yunho’s hand caught her jaw. “Open,” he ordered and she obeyed, watching as he leaned down and spat directly onto her tongue and watching her swallow the offering before he released her and she dove back in, lips stretching around his dick as she took him deeper, pulling off only to drag her tongue over his balls, sucking one gently before returning to fuck her own mouth on him. Spit ran down her chin, the wet sounds filling the room along with his low groans but just as his breathing grew ragged, Yunho pulled her off by the hair.
He dragged her back onto the bed, kissing her hard while his hand slipped between her legs. One finger pushed inside her soaked pussy, curling against her walls. “So fucking wet… all for me.” He pulled his finger free and held it up between them and she leaned in without hesitation, sucking it clean making Yunho’s grin sharpen. “Good girl.” She kissed him again, desperate now. “I need you inside me.” Another growl tore from his throat before he flipped her onto her stomach, one hand running down the length of her spine before gripping her ass hard enough to leave prints.
His dick slid between her cheeks, dragging slowly, then lower to tease her clit with the head. Then without further warning he thrusted in deep in one smooth stroke, burying himself to the hilt making her cry out, fingers clawing at the sheets as her walls stretched around him, clenching tight as Yunho moaned low, hips already rolling. “Fucking made for me,” he hissed, starting slow and deep before gradually increasing the pace. Her begging came soon after, broken pleas, “harder….. please…. faster…” and he gave it to her, pounding into her with bruising force, the bed frame slamming against the wall in rhythm with his thrusts.
One hand fisted in her hair, yanking her upright against his chest and he held her there, fucking up into her relentlessly while his free hand slid around to rub her clit. The orgasm hit her hard making her shake violently, screaming as she squirted around him. But once again Yunho didn’t stop. He kept driving into her through the aftershocks until a second rushed climax tore through her, leaving her limp and gasping. He eased her down onto the mattress, pulling out only to flip her onto her back, eyes raking over her flushed body, settling on her soaked pussy. His thumb brushed gently over her swollen clit. “Can you still keep going?”
Breathless, she met his gaze. “If you don’t get back inside me and come… you can go to hell.” Yunho’s grin widened, dark amusement flickering in his eyes. She had no idea how literal that statement was. He spread her thighs wide, tapping his dick against her sensitive clit a few times. “Knock knock,” he teased, voice dripping with heat before he sank back inside her in one long thrust and her legs wrapped around his waist instantly, pulling him deeper.
He moved slower at first, savoring the tight heat of her and the way her walls clenched him, one hand sliding up to wrap around her throat and her own hands followed, gripping his wrist as he began pounding into her again. She squirted again, the wet gush soaking his him and the sheets beneath them making Yunho groan in approval, hips never faltering. “I’m gonna have to have you again… and again… and again… fuck…” He was pussy drunk, completely addicted to the way she clenched around him, to every sound she made. How she begged him to come inside her, voice hoarse and desperate making Yunho tighten his fingers just slightly around her throat. “Yeah? You want me to breed you? Ruin you for anyone else?”
He released her neck and folded her legs back into a deep mating press, folding her nearly in half. The new angle let him drive even deeper, pounding into her with brutal precision and all she could do was whimper his name, overwhelmed and crying from the intensity as her final orgasm crashed through her just as Yunho buried himself to the hilt and came hard, flooding her with him and stayed locked inside her through every pulse, grinding deep until he was empty.
When he finally collapsed beside her, both of them were breathless, bodies slick with sweat as she curled into his chest without thinking and he pulled her closer, already feeling the hunger stir again despite the exhaustion. They were ruined completely, thoroughly and already wanting more.
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Monday arrived wrapped in a deceptively perfect California afternoon. The storm that had rattled Los Angeles for two nights and had vanished without a trace, leaving behind endless blue skies and sunlight that bounced off the glass towers downtown. Traffic crawled below in its usual symphony of impatient horns, helicopters drifting lazily overhead chasing whatever celebrity scandal had become today’s headline, and somewhere down on Sunset Boulevard, people carried on as though the world had never stopped spinning.
From the floor to ceiling windows of a luxury penthouse overlooking the city, Yunho watched it all in silence. He’d owned the apartment for nearly seventy years. Before that, it had belonged to another building entirely. Before that, there had been nothing but empty hills. He’d watched Los Angeles grow upward one decade at a time until the skyline barely resembled the city he’d first wandered into centuries ago.
His fingers rested loosely around a crystal glass filled with whiskey, though he’d barely touched it. The amber liquid caught the afternoon light as he leaned one shoulder against the window, silver hair falling across his forehead. He looked every bit the successful businessman any human would expect to find living in a place like this. Only the faint pulse of infernal magic humming beneath his skin betrayed what he truly was.
His thoughts, much to his irritation, had wandered somewhere else entirely however. A tiny apartment. Rain hammering against old windows. A woman with absolutely no sense of self preservation. He could still hear her voice after she’d told him to go to hell if he didn’t get back inside her and the corner of his mouth twitched upward despite himself. “Ironic,” he muttered beneath his breath. Four hundred years. Thousands of faces. Kings. Queens. Artists. Warriors. Lovers whose names had long since been forgotten by history. Yet somehow… the woman who worked nights at a club in Los Angeles had managed to occupy more of his thoughts in forty eight hours than most people had in decades.
Ridiculous.
He pushed away from the window, draining the rest of the whiskey before setting the glass on the marble counter. He should’ve gone back already. There wasn’t any reason to remain on Earth. Not really…….
a familiar ripple rolled through the room, invisible to any human eye as the air bent inward as though reality itself had exhaled. Yunho didn’t bother turning around. Instead he sighed. “Let me guess…” he said dryly. “Dad thinks I’ve been up here too long again?”
A soft chuckle answered him. “You always know it’s me.”
Yunho finally looked over his shoulder to the demon standing in the middle of the penthouse as though he’d always belonged there. Seonghwa. Unlike Yunho, Seonghwa made no effort to pretend humanity fascinated him. Everything about him carried quiet refinement. His black coat fell perfectly over tailored clothes, not a wrinkle to be found, and his posture remained impossibly straight. There was an ageless elegance to him, the kind earned only after centuries of existing. Six hundred years had sanded away any impulsiveness he might’ve once possessed, leaving behind someone whose calm could make even the oldest demons uncomfortable. He was one of the few beings Lucifer trusted without reservation. Which, in Hell, was saying something.
Yunho folded his arms across his chest. “So?”
“So…” Seonghwa replied with the ghost of a smile, “Lucifer doesn’t particularly care how long you’ve been on Earth.”
“He doesn’t?”
“No.”
“Huh.”
“He does, however, require your assistance.”
“There it is.”
Seonghwa ignored the comment with practiced ease. “There’s a man in Laguna Beach.” Yunho groaned before Seonghwa had even finished. “No.”
“Yes.”
“I literally know what you’re about to say.”
“I’m sure you do.”
“He wants fame.”
“He does.”
“He thinks selling his soul is easier than developing talent.”
“He does.”
Yunho pinched the bridge of his nose. “I hate these.” Seonghwa’s lips threatened another smile. “I know.”
“They’re always the same.”
“They usually are.”
“They never ask for something interesting.”
Seonghwa tilted his head slightly. “What would you consider interesting?” Yunho walked toward the kitchen, opening the refrigerator more out of habit than necessity before closing it again. “I don’t know. World peace. The cure for cancer. Maybe someone wants to become the greatest violinist in history.”
“And instead?”
“They want followers.”
“Millions of them.”
“They want money.”
“Lots of it.”
“They want everyone to love them.”
“And nobody ever specifies why.”
Seonghwa gave a single approving nod. “You’ve conducted enough bargains.”
“I’ve conducted too many.” Silence settled between them for a moment before Yunho glanced toward the skyline again. “What’s his name?” Seonghwa reached into the inner pocket of his coat and withdrew a small leather bound book. Not paper. Human skin. The pages turned on their own before stopping halfway through and he glanced down briefly. “Ethan Holloway.” Yunho sighed as Seonghwa started reading. “Twenty seven. Aspiring musician. Convinced social media algorithms are personally conspiring against him.” Yunho looked at him flatly. “You’re making that last part up.”
“I wish I were.”
A reluctant laugh escaped Yunho before he shook his head. “And what exactly does his infernal majesty need from me? Surely someone this… uninspired could be handled by a lesser collector.”
“He requested you.”
That made Yunho pause. “He… requested me?”
“He specifically asked for the Prince of Hell.”
Now that was unusual. Humans almost never knew enough to make requests like that. Yunho’s expression sharpened ever so slightly. “Why?” Seonghwa closed the ledger. “Because he believes the Devil’s son grants better bargains. And because the internet has become… surprisingly creative.”
Yunho stared at him. “You’re telling me conspiracy forums have reached Hell.”
“They’ve reached everyone.”
For the first time that afternoon, genuine amusement lit Yunho’s face. “That’s unfortunate.”
“It truly is.”
Yunho slipped on a black jacket draped over the back of a chair, adjusting the cuffs with practiced ease. “Fine.” His keys disappeared into his pocket. “I’ll meet our future celebrity.” Seonghwa gave a single nod before adding, almost casually, “And afterward…”
“Hm?”
“Lucifer would like you to return home.”
Yunho hesitated only briefly before looking toward the glittering city stretched beneath the afternoon sun. Something in his chest resisted the idea. He couldn’t explain why. It wasn’t duty keeping him here. It wasn’t curiosity. At least… that’s what he kept telling himself as his gaze drifted, unbidden, toward the neighborhood where one very ordinary woman would probably be getting ready for another shift at the club in a few hours and frowned. “Yeah,” he murmured quietly, more to himself than Seonghwa. “Afterward.”
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Lunch with Tiffany was never cheap. That was the first thought that crossed Y/N’s mind as she stepped out onto the rooftop terrace overlooking downtown Los Angeles, one hand shielding her eyes from the bright October sun while the hostess led them toward a table near the glass railing. Six months ago, she’d have talked Tiffany out of it entirely. Today, she’d stopped trying. Tiffany had expensive taste, an appreciation for rooftop restaurants with menus that didn’t list prices until the bill came, and an irritating habit of insisting she was treating whenever Y/N complained.
The city stretched endlessly beyond them, sunlight glinting off skyscrapers that seemed close enough to touch. Down below, traffic crawled through the streets in familiar LA fashion, horns occasionally drifting upward on the warm breeze. It was almost impossible to believe that for two nights rain had flooded the streets and thunder had rattled windows hard enough to wake half the city. Y/N slid into her chair and opened the menu for all of three seconds before immediately closing it again. “Every single time you bring me somewhere like this,” she muttered, setting it back on the table, “I become painfully aware that we do the exact same job and somehow have wildly different bank accounts.”
Tiffany didn’t even bother looking up from across from her as she adjusted the oversized sunglasses resting on top of her red hair. “The difference is I don’t buy coffee every morning.” No. The difference was her daddy was a big time lawyer and gave her money whenever she wanted.
“I buy one coffee.”
“You buy three coffees.”
“They’re emotional support coffees.”
“They’re financial mistakes.”
“They’re necessities.”
“They’re why you’re still living in that shoebox apartment.”
Y/N clicked her tongue. “I liked you better five minutes ago.”
“No, you didn’t.”
“Fair.”
The server appeared to take their drink orders before disappearing again, leaving the two women alone beneath the shade of a cream colored umbrella. For a few minutes the conversation stayed comfortably ordinary, bouncing from work gossip to complaints about Saturday night’s crowd at the club. They laughed about one of the bartenders nearly dropping an entire tray of drinks on a bachelor party, rolled their eyes over a regular customer who’d once again insisted he knew the owner and briefly debated whether the new DJ had somehow managed to make every song sound exactly the same.
Then Tiffany’s expression changed. It was subtle. One eyebrow lifted and her smile turned knowing as she folded her hands together on the table and looked directly at Y/N. “So…” Y/N sighed before Tiffany had even finished the word. “No.”
“You don’t even know what I was going to ask.”
“I do.”
“You don’t.”
“I absolutely do.”
Tiffany leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms. “Then answer it.”
“I’m not answering a question you haven’t asked.”
“You’ve been brushing it off for two days.”
Y/N reached for the glass of water the server had just set down, taking a long drink that accomplished absolutely nothing except delaying the inevitable. “I haven’t been brushing anything off.”
“You disappeared Saturday night.”
“I left.”
“You left,” Tiffany repeated slowly, “with the hot blonde.” Y/N stared into her water for another second before finally letting out an exaggerated sigh. “His name was Yunho.” Tiffany blinked once. Then twice. Then pointed a finger across the table like she’d just solved the easiest mystery of her life. “You slut.” Y/N rolled her eyes so hard it almost hurt. “Oh, please.”
“You fucked him.”
Y/N opened her mouth to deny it but instead she bit down on her bottom lip and the corners of her mouth betrayed her almost immediately, a grin creeping across her face despite every attempt to suppress it making Tiffany’s eyes widen. “Oh.” Y/N looked away toward the skyline, shaking her head to herself. “Oh,” Tiffany repeated, this time with enough realization in her voice to make Y/N laugh quietly under her breath as Tiffany gasped dramatically, one hand flying to her chest. “Oh… he gave you the good dick.”
Y/N nearly choked on her water. “Oh my God,” she hissed between laughs, looking around to make sure nobody nearby had heard. “Would you keep your voice down?”
“I knew it.”
“You knew nothing.”
“I know that smile.”
“There is no smile.”
“There is a massive smile.”
Y/N rubbed a hand over her face, trying unsuccessfully to wipe the amusement away. “You’re insufferable.”
“I’m right.”
“You’re annoying.”
“I’m still right.”
Y/N let out another sigh, this one quieter, before resting her elbows on the table. “It wasn’t supposed to be… memorable.”
“But?”
“But…” A small laugh escaped her. “He was…” She searched for the word. “Different.” Tiffany didn’t interrupt this time. “He actually listened when I talked. Like… genuinely listened. Didn’t spend the whole night trying to impress me. Didn’t brag about himself. Didn’t act like buying me a drink meant I owed him something.” She absentmindedly traced the condensation on her water glass with her fingertip. “We just… talked.”
“And then?”
“And then we went back to my place.”
Tiffany nodded knowingly. “And?”
Y/N shook her head with a quiet groan. “And now I can’t stop comparing him to every other guy I’ve ever slept with, which is incredibly inconvenient.” A laugh burst out of Tiffany before she reached across the table and patted Y/N’s hand. “Honey…”
“What?”
“I don’t think your problem is that the sex was good.”
Y/N frowned.
“I think your problem is that you actually liked him.”
Y/N immediately scoffed. “No.”
“No?”
“It was one night.”
“But?”
“There isn’t a but.”
Tiffany simply gave her a look and Y/N held it for exactly three seconds before looking away toward the skyline again. “He is probably the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen,” she admitted under her breath and hesitating a moment before admitting. “And definitely the best sex I’ve ever had.” Tiffany leaned back in her chair wearing the most self satisfied grin imaginable. “I knew it.”
“I hate that you knew it.”
“No,” Tiffany said with a laugh as their lunch finally arrived, setting steaming plates between them. “You hate that some ridiculously gorgeous stranger walked into your life for one night… and somehow ruined every man who comes after him.”
Y/N reached for a fry, pointing it accusingly across the table. “I am never telling you anything again.”
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The black charger purred to a stop, the engine falling quiet beneath the distant chorus of traffic and the occasional impatient blare of a horn. Yunho stepped out a second later, shutting the driver’s door with a soft click before adjusting the cuff of his black jacket. The afternoon sun hung high overhead, warming the sidewalks just enough to erase any lingering memories of the storm. His day had been, thankfully, uneventful. As expected. Ethan Holloway had proven to be every bit the cliché Seonghwa had promised.
The aspiring musician had answered the knock on his apartment door with bloodshot eyes, two days’ worth of stubble, and the unmistakable scent of desperation clinging to him stronger than cheap whiskey ever could. Yunho hadn’t even bothered pretending to be human for long. One moment he’d been standing in the cramped Laguna Beach apartment. The next… his body dissolved into a swirling cloud of black smoke that rolled across the living room floor like ink spilled into water before reforming directly behind the stunned man again. The glamour had slipped just enough. The polished black horns curling from either side of his head, eyes black. A smile that was just a little too sharp. Humans always believed in the impossible right before they signed their souls away.
The contract had appeared between his fingers with a flick of his wrist and Ethan had barely read a single sentence. “You’ll make me famous?”
“I will.”
“Worldwide?”
“If that’s what you desire.”
“And all I have to do is sign?”
Yunho had smiled. “Everyone always asks that question after they’ve already decided.” The pen touched the paper and infernal ink spread across the page. The bargain sealed itself with a pulse of crimson light before vanishing into black embers. Another soul accounted for. Another lifetime traded for a dream. Yunho had offered a polite nod, dissolved once more into smoke, and reappeared beside his car overlooking downtown Los Angeles before Ethan had even realized he’d forgotten to ask what happened when his time eventually ran out.
People rarely cared about consequences while they still believed they had decades left to worry about them. Now he intended to reward himself. He glanced across the street toward the restaurant, a faint smile tugging at one corner of his mouth as he slipped his keys into his pocket and stepped away from his car, waiting at the crosswalk as the pedestrian signal remained stubbornly red. Then… he felt it. Not heard. Not saw. Felt. Ancient magic brushing against his senses like the first cold breeze before a winter storm.
Yunho’s smile faded as he slowly turned his head and saw standing perfectly still on the sidewalk directly outside the restaurant was a woman dressed in robes darker than midnight itself. No human acknowledged her existence. People walked around her without realizing they were doing it. A businessman passed so close his shoulder should’ve collided with hers, yet somehow drifted harmlessly aside at the last possible second as though reality itself refused to allow contact. Her hands rested calmly before her. Her hood was lowered with dark hair framing a face that looked neither young nor old. At her side rested the long obsidian handle of a scythe.
A Reaper.
Yunho exhaled through his nose. “Well.” The Reaper’s eyes shifted toward him with no surprise in them. Only recognition as Yunho shoved both hands into the pockets of his coat before glancing toward the restaurant, then back at her, a snort escaping him. “Please tell me this place isn’t going to burn down.” The Reaper remained silent. “At least not until I get my order,” he continued with a dramatic sigh. “They have my favorite fries here.”
The reaper remained silent until, almost imperceptibly, one corner of her mouth twitched. Not quite a smile but more…. the acknowledgment of a joke she’d heard from him a hundred times before. “You always make light of it.”
“I’ve had four centuries to work on my material.”
“And it hasn’t improved.”
“Ouch.” The pedestrian light changed and people urged into the crosswalk around them. Neither immortal moved as Yunho tilted his head slightly. “So…”
“So.”
He raised an eyebrow. “You’re standing outside a restaurant in the middle of the afternoon.”
“I am.”
“Which means somebody inside has an appointment.”
“Yes.”
“Soon?”
She nodded once and Yunho sighed again, this time with genuine disappointment. “Damn.” His stomach chose that exact moment to remind him why he’d stopped in the first place and he looked longingly toward the restaurant. “Any chance I can still grab the fries first?”
“No.”
“Cruel.”
“It’s my profession.”
“I thought your profession was escorting souls.”
“I can do both.”
Yunho clicked his tongue. “I liked you better three hundred years ago.”
“You’ve never liked me.”
“I tolerated you more enthusiastically.”
For the first time, something resembling amusement flickered across the reaper’s otherwise unreadable face before it vanished almost immediately and her gaze drifted toward the restaurant entrance. Yunho followed it, though from where he stood all he could see was the steady stream of patrons coming and going beneath the awning. Then the first tremor. It was so slight that most people mistook it for a passing truck but Yunho didn’t.
The vibration rolled beneath his polished shoes like something enormous had shifted beneath the earth itself. The pavement quivered once, barely enough to ripple the puddle collected near the curb after the storm, before settling again into uneasy stillness as his head lifted. But the reaper didn’t move. She simply watched the restaurant with the same unreadable expression she’d worn since he’d arrived. “That wasn’t normal,” Yunho murmured.
“It has begun.”
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Three floors above the street, Y/N and Tiffany had just stepped away from their table. Lunch was over, the bill reluctantly paid after Y/N spent a solid minute complaining about the price of fries that somehow cost eighteen dollars. “I’m telling you,” she muttered as they crossed the rooftop patio toward the stairwell. “If somebody serves me ketchup in a porcelain bowl one more time, I’m starting a riot.” Tiffany laughed, nudging her shoulder. “You still ate all the fries.”
“They were really good.”
“They always are.”
Y/N pulled open the heavy stairwell door, the cool concrete replacing the warmth of the rooftop as they began making their way down. They’d barely reached the first landing when the second tremor hit and the entire stairwell lurched sideways with a deafening groan of twisting steel. “What the….” The lights flickered violently and concrete dust rained from the ceiling as a deep, thunderous rumble rolled through the building, growing louder by the second.
The handrail shook beneath Y/N’s grip then everything began moving. The floor. The walls. The stairs. The entire building swayed with terrifying force as people screamed. “It’s an earthquake!” someone yelled somewhere below and Y/N’s eyes widened. “Tiff!”
“I’m here!”
She grabbed Tiffany’s wrist without thinking. “We have to get out. Now!” The two women stumbled down the stairs together as the building bucked beneath them. Every step became a fight for balance. Somewhere above them, glass exploded and the sound echoed through the stairwell as a woman cried and someone else shouted for their child.
The shaking only intensified as they burst through the second floor exit into the restaurant below and into complete chaos. Tables overturned. Wine bottles shattered across the floor. Ceiling lights swung wildly overhead as people shoved toward every visible exit, trampling chairs beneath their feet in blind panic. “This way!” Y/N shouted over the noise, still pulling Tiffany behind her as another violent jolt ripped through the structure making a support beam overhead crack with a sound like a gunshot.
The floor dipped beneath their feet as a section of reinforcement steel tore free from the ceiling, driven downward with horrifying force. Y/N barely registered the movement. One second Tiffany was beside her. The next….. the beam crashed between them and the impact threw Y/N backward as splintered wood and concrete erupted through the dining room. “Tiffany!” Her voice caught in her throat because the steel had struck Tiffany before either of them could react.
For one impossible, frozen heartbeat, neither woman moved. Y/N simply stared as her mind refused to understand what her eyes were seeing. “Tiff…” Another explosion of cracking concrete ripped through the floor beneath her feet and the building groaned. The sound finally snapped her back to herself. “No…” The section of floor beneath Tiffany began collapsing inward and Y/N stumbled forward. “Tiffany!”
Another violent shake sent a rain of glass cascading from every remaining window as the room tilted and the floor split open. Survival took over and Y/N stumbled backward just as the ground where she’d been standing disappeared into darkness. She turned and ran. Not because she wanted to. But because there was nothing else she could do. She reached the massive floor to ceiling windows overlooking the street below, desperately searching for any way out.
The city had become complete pandemonium. Cars sat at impossible angles. Traffic lights swung overhead. People flooded the sidewalks. The pavement rippled beneath the city as skyscrapers swayed against the skyline and windows burst outward. People poured from surrounding buildings as Yunho’s gaze shot upward back to the restaurant. The glass facade reflected the chaos until…..
Y/N.
His stomach dropped. “No.” Beside him, the Reaper finally spoke, voice remaining calm despite the world collapsing around them. “Should a demon preserve that which fate has harvested… the savior shall forever carry the burden of the saved.”
Yunho’s jaw tightened. “I know.” The words came out through clenched teeth. He knew every syllable. Every consequence. He knew exactly what would happen as above them, the building gave one final, deafening groan before the entire western side began folding inward and Y/N disappeared behind a wall of collapsing concrete.
Yunho moved. His body dissolved into a violent cloud of black smoke that tore across the street faster than the eye could follow. The glamour shattered. Silver hair whipped around glossy black horns as infernal shadows exploded through the collapsing floors and he reformed inside the dying building. Concrete rained around him and steel screamed as the floor vanished beneath his feet. Then he saw her, stood frozen, trapped between the collapsing wall and the shattered windows, staring at him in complete disbelief. There was no time. He crossed the distance in a heartbeat, wrapping one arm around her waist and pulled her tightly against his chest.
Then everything disappeared into darkness. The building collapsed. Thousands of tons of steel and concrete crashed into themselves in an earth shaking roar, swallowing the restaurant in a cloud of dust that rolled through downtown like a tidal wave as half a block away, black smoke erupted from empty air and Yunho and Y/N stumbled onto the cracked pavement together.
Y/N’s knees nearly gave out as she clutched at the front of his jacket, coughing through the dust, every breath shaking. For several long seconds she couldn’t process what had just happened. The screams. The collapse. Tiffany. Then she looked up. Really looked and he breath caught. “Yunho?” He didn’t answer. His gaze had already lifted beyond her shoulder….
The reaper still stood untouched by dust. Untouched by chaos as she inclined her head once. “The Covenant has witnessed.”
Yunho shut his eyes and his shoulders sagged with the weight of four centuries pressing down all at once. “Fuck.” Dust rolled through the ruined street in suffocating waves, swallowing the afternoon sunlight until everything looked washed in gray. Sirens had already begun somewhere in the distance, their cries growing louder with every passing second, while the screams of survivors echoed from every direction and Y/N still clutched the front of Yunho’s jacket with trembling fingers. “Yunho?” His attention remained fixed on the reaper. The Covenant had witnessed. Four hundred years. Four hundred years of never once crossing the line. Gone. Just like that.
A sharp hiss escaped Y/N. “Ow…” She released his jacket, grabbing at her left wrist as a searing heat exploded beneath her skin. It wasn’t the sting of a cut or the ache of a bruise. It was deeper. Like molten metal had been poured directly into her veins. “What the fuck…”
Yunho’s head snapped down. “No…” The word barely left his lips before he felt it too. Not pain. Recognition. The inside of his own wrist ignited with the same infernal heat as Y/N cried out, staring in disbelief as impossibly thin black lines began spreading beneath her skin. They branched outward like living ink, twisting and weaving together with unsettling precision. But the lines didn’t stop. They curved. Folded. Connected. Until an elegant symbol slowly revealed itself.
A single black horn.
Its shape unmistakably echoed the royal horns now curling from either side of Yunho’s head. It sat over the pulse of her wrist as though it had always belonged there. “No…” Yunho whispered again as his own wrist burned brighter. He looked down just in time to watch another design emerge beneath his own skin. Not a horn. A feather. Long. Elegant. Its delicate barbs etched in the same flowing black lines that formed Y/N’s mark.
Human.
Demon.
The symbols stared back at one another from opposite wrists like two halves of the same ancient promise. Then came the runes. They spiraled outward around each mark in perfect circles, ancient infernal script carving itself into flesh with molten golden light as Y/N watched in horror. “What… what language is that?” Yunho couldn’t answer. Because he could read every word. Every single one. By blood preserved… Another rune burned itself into place. By fate denied… More appeared. Two souls… The circle completed itself.
…bound beyond death.
The final rune flared so brightly it forced both of them to shield their eyes and for one blinding heartbeat, the symbols glowed like liquid gold before the infernal script dissolved. The light vanished beneath their skin, leaving behind only the completed marks, matte black, as though they’d been tattooed there years ago. Silence enveloped them. Even the sounds of the collapsing city seemed impossibly distant as Y/N slowly lowered her wrist, staring first at the strange black horn etched over her pulse… then at Yunho.
Really looking at him for the first time since he’d pulled her from the collapsing building and her eyes traveled upward. Past the silver hair she’d spent two days thinking about. Past the face she’d convinced herself she’d never see again. Until they stopped on the glossy black horns rising from his head and her breathing caught.
She looked from the horns… to the mark on her wrist and back again. “What the hell is going on?”
Yunho didn’t answer at first. His gaze remained fixed on the horn branded into her skin, the reality of what he’d done settling over him with crushing finality. The reaper’s form was already beginning to dissolve into drifting ash, her duty complete. And before the last trace of her disappeared, Yunho heard the faint whisper of robes carried on the wind. Then… nothing. Only then did Yunho let out a slow, weary breath as his eyes finally lifted to meet Y/N’s. “The keyword…” he said quietly, a humorless smile touching the corner of his mouth despite everything….
“…is Hell.”
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