My Wicked Destiny

Ruin Me 🔞

I sought to shield you, but I've damned you instead.

Blood stains the body I vowed to defend.

Six feet below, but you're back from the dead.

Colder and darker, the vision of dread.

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The shower's spray pounded down like a relentless drum, but Kim's world was narrowing to the sight before him. Porchay stood under the water, his dark eyes blazing with a mix of emotions that sent a shiver down Kim's spine. The innocence that once clung to Porchay like a shadow was gone, replaced by something fierce and unsettling.

The boy who used to watch him with wide, adoring eyes, clutching his guitar like a lifeline, was no more. The boy before him now was willing to bleed, to die—perhaps even to kill for him. The realization hit Kim like a punch to the gut, his breath catching in his throat. His heart began to pound, each beat echoing in his chest like a war drum. Pupils dilating, he felt a chill crawl up his spine despite the heat of the water cascading over them.

"You've changed so much," Kim whispered, his voice barely audible above the hiss of the shower. His eyes traced the curve of Porchay's lips, the intensity in his gaze, the unspoken promise of devotion tinged with hatred.

Porchay's expression softened, but only slightly, as he brushed wet strands of hair from Kim's face, his touch reverent. "I was changed from the moment we met," Porchay murmured, his words almost a caress. He leaned in closer, his breath warm against Kim's skin, and kissed him again—this time with a deliberate force that left Kim no choice but to remain still, to submit. The heat of Porchay's mouth seeped into him, setting his nerves on fire. Kim's mind screamed to resist, but his body betrayed him.

Each kiss was a poisonous drug, a wicked destiny that tightened its grip on his soul with every press of their lips. He couldn't resist. Not anymore. The line between love and destruction blurred as he surrendered to the dark pull of their twisted connection, kissing Porchay again and again, knowing it would only lead them both further down a path of no return.

The kiss that began in the shower blazed a heated path back to the bedroom, where the air felt stifling with tension and urgency. Porchay's hands were rough, almost punishing, as they tore at Kim's soaked clothes, yanking them off with a brutal efficiency. The wet fabric hit the floor with a slap, ignored as Porchay shoved Kim back, forcing him down onto the bed. Kim landed hard, his body laid bare under the dim light, his breath coming in ragged gasps. Porchay's gaze roved over him, dark and dangerous, and Kim felt a tightening in his chest, a mix of anger and something darker that made his skin prickle.

"You don't have to do this," Kim muttered, the words slipping out more as a reflex than a plea. But Porchay's response was immediate and sharp, "Shut the hell up." The words cut through the air like a blade, leaving no room for softness, no room for hesitation. The bed groaned under Porchay's weight as he climbed on top of Kim, his movements full of a furious determination that made Kim's pulse quicken with both dread and anticipation.

"Don't just shove it in, you idiot, you'll hurt yourself," Kim snapped, his voice laced with irritation. But Porchay wasn't listening. He set his jaw and began to lower himself onto Kim's erection with a grunt of stubborn defiance. A strained groan slipped from Porchay's lips as he took him in, the tightness almost unbearable. Kim's body tensed, every muscle drawn tight with the torturous mix of pain and pleasure as Porchay forced himself down further.