𝐌𝐘 𝐃𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍 𝐇𝐔𝐒𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐃 ✓ | Muzan X Reader X Giyuu

24. Happy Honeymoon!

When you told your friends about your upcoming trip, they squealed.

"Enjoy your honeymoon," they said.

"It'll be fun," they said.

You were so nervous about traveling far from home for the first time.

However, your friends had all agreed that Muzan was one heck of a knockout.

He was complete ten out of ten, a man who could send your entire friend group kneeling on all fours.

Had your friends not been married already, they would've been all over Muzan's body within milliseconds.

Since they had husbands of their own, though, they decided that you should fulfill their wishes instead.

They convinced you that the honeymoon would the perfect chance to grow closer with your hot hubby...

...and perhaps lose your V-card, too.

The latter idea had turned you into an awkward mess.

Besides, making love with Muzan was far off, right?

You could never imagine your husband ever having a chance to defile your pure body...until you reached your hotel room.

"Why is there only one bed?" you shouted.

When the hotel's hostess showed you the Honeymoon Suite, where you and your husband would be staying near Mount Fuji, that was the first thing that struck you.

Not the Victorian-style lounge chairs or crystal chandeliers.

Not the mountain-facing balcony or the velvet carpets.

And not even how this suite reeked of one word: expensive.

Rather, what caught your attention was the lone and single bed placed squarely in the guestroom, with the mattress raised like the ones you saw in Western movies.

The hostess shifted underneath her dark uniform before daring to answer your question.

"Every Honeymoon Suite here has only one King-sized bed," she disclosed. "This is the room that your mother had reserved."

Before you could argue further, the hostess added, "All other hotel rooms are booked for the week."

After a four-hour, nighttime train ride from Tokyo to Mount Fuji, though, how could you possibly spend the evening here?

The suite looked more like a child's playroom than a hotel stay, decked with pink hearts and red frills (which, surely, were also requests placed by your mother).

Also, you had slept next to Muzan for just one night before, but sharing a bed with Muzan over five nights was a thought beyond comprehension.

Standing at the doorway, you shot an uneasy glance at your husband and then the hostess, both of whom were beside you.

You hoped that Muzan would say something.

The only thing he did, though, was stand next to you with a dorky smile, nodding politely to whatever the hostess was saying.

"Are there at least futon mattresses?" you finally asked. "So that I could sleep on the floor?"

The hostess lowered her gaze at your complaints, uneasily clicking the heels of her shoes.

"Unfortunately, since this property is a Western-style hotel, we do not have floor mattresses," she clarified. "We apologize for—"

"No need for apologies," Muzan interjected.