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hotter than hell | final. (m)
banner by the lovely solaris @jamaisjoons <3
➵ summary: jungkook, lucifer and king of hell, has been cast out of the crimson underworld for a reason he’s unsure of. embarking on his journey for the answer should’ve been easy, if it weren’t for you, the human that nurses his wounded body in her home, and accidentally witnesses the truth of his identity. kickstarting a hellish adventure with the devil himself, you discover lucifer is the most infuriating company ever; and jungkook finds out that maybe his answer to returning home lies within his annoying human confidant.
↳ part of the namkook moonrise masquerade collab hosted by @jamaisjoons
➵ pairing: fallen lucifer!jungkook x human!reader
➵ genre: supernatural/fantasy!au, romance, e2l, road trip, angst, fluff, eventual smut
➵ rating: 18+
➵ word count: 19k
➵ warnings: swearing, semi-accurate biblical depictions of angels and demons, fantasy-based story-telling, mentions of fear, violence & injury, mentions of blood, aNGST, tragedy that leads to depression :(, light mentions of taking one’s own life (very very minor, please read with caution if this is triggering), morning after shenanigans, dirty talk, explicit sexual content, pussy-eating, heavy making out, petting, unprotected sex (wrap before tapping pls <3), massive dicc!jungkook, switch!reader, marking, scratching, cum play/tasting, rough sex, shower sex, multiple orgasms, missionary, hitting it from the back <3
➵ a/n: NAURRR it’s the final now :( I really hope you guys like this ending and please excuse me if it’s not my best, for those who don’t know I wrote this while recovering from heart surgery :] please excuse any mistakes i don’t have a beta for this!! i hope you enjoy my lovelies 🥺💓 feedback is always appreciated <3
| 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | final. |
A light breeze dances across your cheek, causing goosebumps to freckle your skin. Your chest squishes into the mattress beneath you, splaying a hand across Jungkook’s brawny chest for warmth.
Except, Jungkook isn’t next to you.
Your eyes flutter open, squinting as the morning light blindingly permeates the opulent bedroom. You clutch the sheets on Jungkook’s side with confusion, finding the imprint of his sleeping body, but vacant of him.
Your heart drops to the bottom of your stomach.
“Jungkook?” You immediately rise, anxiously surveying your surroundings for your king of hell. “Jungkook?” You call urgently, heart accelerating with each second he doesn’t reply.
Nerves begin eating at you, your fretful mind jumping to horrendous conclusions that tear your heart out of your chest. You sit up and hug the sheets to your quivering, naked body, as though you’re protecting yourself from the worst.
“Jungkook? If you’re playing a joke this isn’t funny.” Moisture floods your eyes, stressing your concern. Last night’s conversation only dawned terrifying thoughts, forcing yourself to avoid the worst possibility right now.
He can’t be gone already, he couldn’t have had such little time—he wouldn’t have left without saying goodbye.
Your breathing destabilizes, tone shaky when you cry out. “Jungkook?! Please, where are you!”
“Woah, woah, angel.” You hear his concerned, silky voice when he emerges from the bathroom, shirtless and wet. Every muscle in your stiff body relaxes, seconds from crumbling into pieces.
“Hey, Y/N.” Jungkook coos, settling by your side and resting a palm against your cheek. “I’m here, hey. It’s okay.”
“Jungkook… I thought—” You choke up, almost embarrassed you’re on the verge of crying. You hide your face to conceal the tears, but Jungkook unfairly knows you too well.
“I’m right here, angel. Hey, I’m not going anywhere.” He kindly purrs, seating himself on the edge of the bed and tugging you into his warm chest. You bury into his neck, immediately throwing your arms around him—Jungkook squeezes you tightly, stroking your hair. “Wow, you really can’t last 10 minutes without me, can you?”
His tone is playful, encouraging you to lighten up. You force a smile upon your lips, drawing away to find his beautiful chocolate orbs. Jungkook cradles your face, holding you dearly. “Are you okay?”
You nod, inhaling a deep breath to calm yourself. “I’m sorry, I just jumped to the worst conclusion and thought you—”
“Hey, you don’t have to say sorry.” He assures you. “You know I’d never leave without saying goodbye.”
Your heart spasms inside your chest, feeling a sting upon hearing the word “goodbye”. It felt so damningly final. “I never want to say goodbye…” You trail, eyes solemnly focusing on the white sheets wrapped around you.
Jungkook exhales worriedly, despising the misery on your face. The words weigh heavy on him, too, instead curling your hair behind your ear. “Did you sleep well?”
You recall the memory of sleeping in Jungkook’s embrace, admiring the cozy heat of his body, the calming sensation of his skin pressed against yours—a small smile curves your lips. “Yeah, I did.”
Jungkook’s face brightens, biting his bottom lip. “So, did you really miss me? I was only showering, baby.”
It’s then you register a white, cotton towel hugging Jungkook’s scrumptious hips, droplets of water hanging from the ends of his wet, shaggy locks—he looked irresistibly sexy. You clear your throat and swiftly wipe at your eyes to appear unaffected. “Sh-shut up, I would never miss you.”
“Mmm, I beg to differ.” Jungkook hums, cupping your chin to lift your face. “What did you dream about, angel? Did you dream about last night?”
Flashes of the steamy session light hot fireworks inside you, your pussy inadvertently clenching. You nibble on your lip, squishing your thighs together to prevent yourself from gushing, avoiding his eyes. “I dreamt of you being less annoying, actually.”
Jungkook tongues the inside of his cheek with a smirk, bringing his lips mere inches from yours—his spearmint breath deliciously kisses you. “You’re really cute when you deflect your feelings for me, did you know that?”
Grumpy about his accuracy, you pout, shoving him away. “Whatever; bet you thought of me and my naked body with you in the shower the entire time, loser.”
Jungkook cracks a mirthy, amused smile as he flicks a boobs of yours. “Oh, I definitely thought of that.” You giggle, but the scheming demon walks his hands across the sheets either side of your body, his gaze alluring. You nervously swallow as his lips dangerously skim your ear, whispering. “I also thought about fucking you senseless against the shower wall.”
You shiver, feeling a current run through your spasming sex—you tightly seal your lips to surpress a moan, whispering. “Why didn’t you?”
Jungkook laughs while drawing back. His veiny, beautiful hand lands atop your hair, smoothing it. “I didn’t want to wake you; you’re like a baby angel when you sleep.”
“Stop being cute.” You roll your eyes, curling your hands over his sturdy shoulders to push him back—it was so tempting to snatch any opportunity to touch his deliciously-carved muscles.
Jungkook falters back, a fond smile on his lips. You lean back and perch yourself on your elbows, letting the sheets fall from your boobs.
You eye his body like a work of art, admiring each and every divot, every harsh line and impeccably crafted edge. The slabs of muscles hugging him are mouth-watering, unable to tear your greedy eyes away—especially not from the perfect v-line running along his abdomen that disappears behind his pesky towel.
It’s impossible to not recall the same godly body moving on top of you, working himself hard to thrust inside you, glistening with sweat as he grunted and groaned, moaned and panted. Your skin automatically heats up, chewing your bottom lip again.
Jungkook tongues his lip ring as he crosses his brawny arms—you feel sick watching the tattooed one flex. “So someone definitely didn’t forget last night.”
“Hard to forget when you get fucked by the devil.” You add a saccharine sweet smile to your words, eyes giving away your lustful thoughts.
Jungkook cracks a smug side-grin. “Mmm, and how’d you like the devil fucking you? Was it mind-blowing? Earth-shattering? Life-changing?” He dramatically emphasizes with jazz hands.
“Hmm,” you fake contemplate, drawing out your foot to skim across Jungkook’s knee just underneath his towel. You slowly graze your toes up his thigh, salaciously eyeing him. “More like eh, really.”
Jungkook cocks a brow. “Eh? You’ve gotta be kidding me, right?”
“Not really—I’ve had better.”
Jungkook’s features immediately scrunch with resentment. “Hah, I know for a fact you’re lying because I already know your sex stories. Nice try, angel.”
“Really?” You quirk a brow, his already apparent irritation amusing you, drawing higher up his quads. “Do you really think I’d tell you all my sex stories? What if I hid or lied about something?”
Jungkook narrows his eyes. “You wouldn’t.”
“I’ve been hanging out with the devil, Jungkook; I’ve become a sinner.” Your sultry timbre causes Jungkook to swallow, and your eyes gleam. You caress his muscular thigh high enough that you press the ball of your foot against his monster cock, and Jungkook growls like a beast.
He pounces on you, giggling when he ensnares your wrists and pins you down to the mattress. “Take back what you said, or I’m giving you a sinful punishment, angel.”
You smirk. “Awh, but I don’t think big scary Lucifer would ever punish me, would he? Aren’t I too precious to you?”
“There are many ways to punish someone, and I’ve been thinking of specific ways for you.” He retorts, his eyes shimmering a cavernous red.
“Really? Like wha–” You nonchalantly wave him off, but your question is abruptly cut off when Jungkook glides his hands down your sides, hooks around your thighs, and lowers himself to your core—he tugs you flush against his face, diving head first into your pussy.
The cry you let out is erotic—loud—joints liquiefying to the feeling of his strong, wet muscle licking a long stripe through your slit.
“Jungkook, what the–fuck!” You moan out instead of reprimanding him, attempting to resist his tongue if it weren't so goddamn addicting.
“Jungkook…” Your call is more of a sigh, moaning with pleasure when his tongue masterfully licks across your cunt, spreading your legs wide open.
Your fingers weave into his messy, wet curls, gently tugging them when he supplies you your very own heaven. He licks and sucks about as he pleases, even teething your clit and erupting a high-pitched whine from you.
He moans when your taste hits his tongue, snaking his hand up your quivering body to cup one of your breasts. He squeezes with delight, deftly rubbing tight circles over your nipple with his thumb—fireworks explode behind your eyes.
Your hips buck into his gorgeous face, feeling his plushy lips lick your soul out of you. Lucifer’s tongue was surely the definition of sin, you thought, as Jungkook’s long and crafty muscle applied sweet pressure to your clit. He slithered the tip through your folds, jerking your back off the sheets, thighs closing around his head.
“Fuck, Y/N, you’re so fucking wet.” He praises, pushing your thigh back to plunge deeper, to lick the cum he oozes out of you. “The dirtiest angel ever.”
He’s driving you insane with his licks, with his hand on your tit, with his intoxicating stimulation that makes you see stars. Your cunt begins pulsing for more, for him to drive himself inside you until you’re full of his cum.
Impatiently, you tug at his shoulders, forcing him to release your sex and crash his lips onto yours. You swing your arms and legs around his strong body to greedily kiss him, tasting your flavour on him. Jungkook groans once you do, a hand of his slipping underneath your head as the other grips your side, melding his hips with yours.
The contact makes you shiver, harbouring no patience for foreplay.
You shove him back, eyeing him with insatiable lust. Your hands quickly target his towel and toss the damn thing aside, Jungkook reading the room and removing the sheets from your body.
He collides with your lips again for another messy kiss before grabbing his shaft, gently pumping his cock. It’d already grown hard as he ate you out, and now stands tall and proud as he’s seconds from splitting you open. His face buries into your neck when he clambers over you, entwining a hand with yours in the sheets as he simultaneously sinks into your spasming hole.
Jungkook softly groans as he pushes into you, kissing your throat. “Are you okay… after last night?”
You nod with a harsh breath, fingers gripping his wet hair for support. He grunts deeply once he’s entirely sheathed inside, curling an arm underneath your back to press you into him. He wastes no time in thrusting, your hands instantly gripping his back and shoulder, shuddering pleasurably as you adjust to the size of him.
“Still so big, Jungkook… holy fuck.”
“You drive me fucking insane,” he breathes, kissing your collarbone. “I can’t help it.”
Your breathy moans and groans resound around the room as Jungkook drives into your sex, already rocking the bed with a sensual rythym. You scratch your nails into his meaty muscles, mouths and breaths melding harmoniously as he sensually drives himself inside you—the action sends Jungkook off the deep end.
“Fuck, I love when you do that.” He growls, gripping you harder. “Go harder, as hard as you can.”
You worry for him, flashing him a concerned look until he kisses it away. “I’m Lucifer, baby, it won’t hurt—just let me feel what I make you feel.”
Heeding his request, you beg him. “More, Jungkook… fuck me faster.”
Jungkook complies with a heady groan. He begins slamming into your fluttering pussy, eliciting needy sighs and moans from you. You harshly scratch your nails down his back, leaving red trails that must have drawn blood, but Jungkook only thrives off it.
Throaty, guttural groans leave him as pure sin leaks into his movements, passionately speeding up. “Fuck, ah fuck…” He clutches you as closely as possible, roughly fucking you at high speed, relishing in the feeling of it until this position isn’t enough for him. Jungkook quickly draws out of your sex to flip you around, your breasts and stomach now pressed into the mattress.
“Jungkook—” You’re interrupted when the devil tugs you onto all fours, your battered pussy kissing his rock-hard dick. You yelp, surprised by his harsh movements until he sheaths himself back inside you, feeling every bone in your body melt with pleasure.
Your face buries into your pillow, sighing into it, gripping it with all the strength you can muster. Jungkook begins sliding in and out of you, no doubt easier with the amount of essence you deliciously leak.
He fucks you hard and fast, gripping your hips as he plunges into you from behind. You cry out into your pillow, muffling the erotic cadence of your desire. It feels cosmically good like this, wantonly reaching your arms out to grab the bed frame.
“Fuck, Jungkook… fuck!”
“You like being fucked like this, angel? Like the dirty angel you are?”
You pathetically whimper, tightly clasping the bed frame. “S’ good, Jungkook. More… I need more.”
“Where do you need me, angel?” Jungkook coos, stroking your back affectionately—a complete contrast to his jackhammering hips. His voice is hypnotizing, alluring as he speaks. “Show me with my hand, baby, show the devil where you need him.”
His words saturate your ears with liquid lust, your veins humming with pure rapacity. You reach out for his hand, Jungkook finding you in the middle. You relocate his fingers to your stomach, skimming them down until his digits press into your throbbing clit—Jungkook’s smirk is so wide you can hear it.
“Mmm, my angel wants to come.” He hums, lowering himself so that his chest is flush against your back, his lips caressing your ear. “Hold on tight, Y/N, I’m giving you an orgasm so sinful, even hell won’t let you repent.”
That’s the only warning you earn before Jungkook buckles down, curls an arm around your figure, and fucks you so hard you swear stars dance underneath your eyelids. The bed ceaselessly creaks, possibly on the verge of breaking as Jungkook hammers himself home inside you.
His crafty tongue comes out to lick along your spine, your shoulder, your marked neck until your ear. He sucks on your lobe, whispering the rawest forms of filth. Paired with his fingers drawing tantalizing circles over your clit, it wasn’t long before Jungkook snaps the tight knot in your gut.
“There it is; cum for me, angel.” He ruggedly breathes. “Let me feel it, baby.”
Just gently wraps his hand around your throat, choking the sides as he fucks you harder, faster, elevating your pleasure to mountainous levels until you finally reach Nirvana.
With a cosmic thrust, your orgasm explodes inside you, chest inflating and deflating with heavy breaths. Jungkook momentarily slows down, his breath fanning your hair across your face. He’s throbbing violently inside you, loaded with cum he needs to release, and his lips move before yours can.
“Can I come… on your body?” He asks, breathily and with sweat glistening on his skin. “Your back… I’ve thought about coming on your back for weeks.”
You shoot him a mischievous smile over your shoulder, still hazed over with post-orgasm bliss. “Want to paint me… like one of your french girls?”
He smirks, far too attracted to your witty mouth. “I’d love to paint you and have you lick my cum off yourself.”
His dirty mind intrigues you, granting him his permission. Jungkook picks up his pace again, sinfully rocking his hips into you until euphoria enters his veins.
Jungkook’s pulls out of your sex in an instant to release his white hot seed all over your back, fascinated by the warm goops painting your skin.
He decorates your lower back and even your ass, pumping himself until he’s left dry. He drinks you in with the most carnal look you’ve ever sensed, his eyes glowing such an intense red, he truly appeared demonic. He leans back down to swipe his fingers across your spine, gathering some of his cum—he brings his fingers before your mouth.
Without hesitation, you lick it off, humming with satisfaction once the taste hits your tongue—who knew Lucifer’s cum could taste like stardust?
Jungkook watches you enjoy it, watches your lips suck his digits as though they were his cock. He lightly groans before swiping up the rest of his seed to feed to you—he’s so sinfully filthy.
Once you’d swallowed the majority of him, Jungkook pressed a kiss to your hair before he forced space between you, admiring his work on your back. You fall flat against your stomach, finding his eyes over your shoulder.
“Shit, now I’m covered in cum—I’ll need to shower.”
“Mmm,” Jungkook hums, tonguing his cheek. “Can I join you?”
“You already showered, genius.” You playfully narrowed your eyes, swinging your legs.
Jungkook laughs before crawling back over you, pressing sensual kisses to your neck. “Please, I’m covered in sweat from fucking you. I’ll need to shower again, and joining you would save water and all...”
“Ah, yes, because the devil is so interested in saving the Earth, right?” You jest, moaning when he licks your earlobe. “Totally has nothing to do with fucking me in there, now does it?”
“Of course not, what if my angel needs help showering?” He sarcastically plays along, his lips now worshipping you underneath your jaw. “She must be sore from last night and this morning.”
You can’t help but sigh when he finds the sweet spot behind your ear, kissing it affectionately. You giggle when his hands slip around your sides, attempting to tickle you. “Fine, but we’ll only shower, correct?”
Jungkook stifles his snort. “Oh yeah, of course. We’re just going to shower.”
“Yes, you’re certainly not going to fuck me against the wall like you said you would, right?”
“I wouldn’t dare.”
Once Jungkook hoisted you over his shoulder and scrambled inside the bathroom, it wasn’t long before your back was pressed against the shower wall, and you held onto him for dear life as he fucked you senseless, your two wet bodies rutting against the other with no desire to stop.
After two more rounds of fucking in the shower and coming another three times, Jungkook still didn’t leave you even when you began your skincare routine. You laughed and playfully tried to nudge him off as he clung to your waist from behind, burying his face into your neck.
“No, I’m never leaving you alone—you know I love your hair after you wash it.”
You rolled your eyes, applying moisturizer to your face. “Ugh, who knew Lucifer could be such a mushy lover?”
“Only for his soulmate, angel.” You giggled when his fingers danced over your sides, tickling you.
You’d finally finished and spun around to kiss him, unable to tear yourself away from his delicious frame. His black dress-shirt from last night hugged your figure as he only sported a black Supreme t-shirt and matching boxers on his hips.
You leaped into his arms as he grappled your legs around his waist. He led you back into your room, laying you across the sheets to shamelessly make out with you.
“You know,” you begin, indulgently sighing out when he sucks his love for you onto your neck. “I think we’re kind of… obsessed with each other.”
He smirks against your skin, his hot breath fanning across you. “That’s what happens when you’re primordial soulmates—I’ve been starving for you for an eternity, and didn’t even know it.”
You brightly laugh as he pretends to eat at your neck, playfully mimicking the sounds of a hungry animal chomping you. Your panty-cladded core presses into his clothed crotch as you lock your legs around him, lazily rolling yourself against his abs—until something hits you.
The word he just uttered; eternity.
It suddenly snaps you back into reality, your mind weaving together what time Jungkook actually has left. Is it possible for him to never use his powers and still remain here? Is it possible for him to delay whatever will happen to him? If he never condemns your soul, he can remain here, can’t he?
You gently clasp Jungkook’s shoulders and force space between you two, meeting his eyes with soft, curious ones.
Jungkook’s eyebrows furrow, his thumb brushing your bottom lip. “Hey, what’s wrong?”
You sit on the question, letting go of his shoulders to twiddle your fingers. “I… I don’t know if I should ask.”
Jungkook visibly softens, rubbing his thumb across your lips. “You know you can ask me anything, angel.”
His supportive, kind tone melts your heart, scrounging up the courage to speak. “You need to tell me more, Jungkook, about what you found out last night.” You press, nervously approaching the matter. “Can’t you just not condemn my soul? Can’t you just conserve your power and not use it to remain here? With me?”
Jungkook exhales weightily, supporting himself above you with a look of regret. “I can’t do that, angel. The terms can’t just be ignored like that.”
“Why not?” You smooth your hands over his muscular chest, silently admiring the beat of his heart—that he’s still here. “Why can’t you stay, Jungkook?”
He releases a deep, grievous sigh, gripping the sheets with a sense of frustration. It’s as though something dances on the tip of his tongue, but he refuses to share, shielding you from the pain of it. Your heart sinks, sliding a hand into his hair as the other holds his neck—you lift yourself to gently nudge his nose with yours. “Tell me, Jungkook, you can talk to me.”
Jungkook disconcertedly meets your eyes, swallowing harshly—he begins very quietly, vulnerably. “If I don’t… if I don’t condemn your soul…” He strains to continue. You support him as much as you can, affectionately kissing him, caressing him.
He exhales calmly with your unfettered love, gathering enough strength to continue. “If I don’t condemn your soul, Y/N, the Council will seize us and force me to do it, anyway.”
Your eyes widen, stuttering. “They’ll—they’ll what?”
Jungkook winces, clutching your sides. “They’ll force me to condemn you, angel. And it won’t be a simple arrest, either, they’ll detain us and even hold a hearing if they desire. They could potentially…”
Again, Jungkook tenses, and your eyes fill with moisture, cradling his cheeks. “What is it?”
“They could potentially torture me, torture you if I don’t condemn you—it’s how they do things, they won’t let this go.”
Your heart cracks, bleeding the pain into your chest. “No way, it can’t be like that.” You begin to implode, tears collecting in your eyes. “How could they do that? I thought they were angels, I thought they were good.”
“Y/N, you’re forgetting who we are.” Jungkook softly explains, brushing some strands from your face. “I’m the devil, and you’re my lover, baby—they’ll never allow anything good to happen to us.”
Your heart constricts, lips trembling as a wave of emotion attacks, ensnaring your ability to think clearly. “Then we have to stop it, Jungkook. We can’t let them have you, we can’t let them have what they want. We’ll run—we’ll run forever and never let them catch you and—”
“Y/N, it doesn’t work like that.” Jungkook coos, concern flooding him upon your panicking features. “Angels are supreme celestial beings, not human detectives. They don’t have to search for our whereabouts or investigate, they already know where we are—they know I’m not following through with their orders.”
The thought of such omnipotent power overwhelms you, clutching your quivering hands to your mouth. The fear that cripples you is consuming, causing you to rise into a seated position to reel, to become terrified of what’s to come.
Jungkook visibly shares your pain, his features devastated as he kneels before you on the ground and cradles your hands in your lap. Tears cascade down your cheeks, sucking in a miserable breath. “This can’t be… it can’t be like this.” Your voice breaks, your head spins—Jungkook cups your cheeks, wiping the tears that escape you.
“It has to be, Y/N, we have no say in the matter.” He agonizes, his smooth and silky voice cushioning the blow. “So we only have one option to end this for good.”
You lift your eyes apprehensively. “What?”
Jungkook doesn’t answer, as though he’s fighting to accept it himself. His gaze is miserable—excruciating—causing your nerves to skyrocket. “What is it, Jungkook?”
Silence again, his jaw tightly flexed with anger, his irises glowing with a damning sense of tenacity.
“For fuck’s sake, Jungkook, spit it out!”
“Our only option…” he struggles. “Our only option is for me to use the very last of my powers… and let myself die.”
A freight train hits you, no, completely totals you as you stare at Jungkook, unable to respond. Denial is your only method of functioning, shaking your head. “No, no. Don’t you dare say that to me, you can’t die, Jungkook.”
“What choice do we have, baby?” He sadly relinquishes himself to his fate, holding your jaw. “I can’t live knowing I have to condemn your soul—I can’t do that to you.”
“So what, Jungkook?” You fight him, pain etched into your every feature. “Who cares about me? I won’t let you die!”
“You don’t get it, Y/N. Condemining you means branding you as one of the wicked, it means subjecting you to the torture you’ll face for your indiscretions on Earth.” He explains seriously, vehement disapproval on his face. “I will never do that to you, I will never let you suffer to earn my freedom.”
“And it doesn’t matter, Jungkook.” You counter. “I’ll gladly endure whatever awaits me in hell if it means you get to live, if it means you’ll be able to reclaim your throne in hell—I’m the one who cast you out in the first place, it was my fault!”
“No, that’s not an option.” Jungkook finalizes, gripping your hands with meaning. “This is the only way, Y/N, the only way you get to live a normal life without all of this crap. You don’t deserve it, I don’t deserve you; so please, let me do this for you—let me save you.”
You can’t agree to this, vehemently shaking your head. “No, that’s not an option, you can’t do this for me.” You sniffle, connecting your sorrowful gazes. “You have to condemn me, Jungkook, it’s the only way.”
“For fuck’s sake, Y/N, not it isn’t.” Jungkook has to release your hands in order to rise from the floor, pacing the room. You watch as he does so, determined to change his mind.
“There’s another way, Jungkook, you just won’t stand to do it.”
His features contort, scoffing with narrowed eyes. “You’re right, Y/N, I will never send you there, I will never do that to you.”
“And why not, Jungkook?” You rise to your feet. “We can’t let the council reprimand us and there’s no way I’m letting you die, so you have to do this, you have to!”
“I won’t let the woman I love suffer in hell!” Jungkook explodes, his rageful eyes burning with emotion.
You shatter, clutching your chest where a hole was punched through it. “But then you’ll suffer, Jungkook, you’ll suffer for me, and I can’t live with that.”
Jungkook stares elsewhere with oblivion, scoffing before he swivels around, hands perched on hips. “Do you know what will happen if I condemn you, Y/N? Do you have any idea what’ll happen to your soul?”
You sniffle, shaking your head. “What?”
“You know you’re the reincarnation of Lilith, right?” Jungkook reminds you, to which you lightly nod. “Do you know what it means to be a reincarnation, Y/N? It means Lilith is reborn as you, a human. It means even after you’re gone, after your soul is condemned, this shit doesn’t end.” His eyes fill with moisture, watching him swallow it away so he can continue. “The punishment Lilith faced for disobeying Adam was to be repeatedly reincarnated as a human. But another part of her punishment was to face eternal loss. Lilith and I fell in love ages ago, but I lost her when she was forced to be reincarnated as the love of my life across human lifetimes. When I find you in each lifetime, I’m meant to be ripped apart from you—we’re never meant to be together.”
The information is far too grand for you to absorb, drowning in it. “Wh-what? Across… lifetimes? But how… how?”
“I don’t know, my memory of each lifetime is erased. But me still being alive clearly indicates that I never die. And I know I would never voluntarily choose to condemn you which only means the Council always forces me to, and you’re forced to suffer horrible, horrible pain until you’re reincarnated again.” He agonizes, spitting the words with distaste. “I cannot live knowing that, angel—I have to end your eternal suffering by dying.”
Jungkook’s finalizing tone scares you, afraid of what all this means, afraid of what it means for you, for him. How could your life have gone down this path? How can you possibly be the reincarnation of a demon? It’s too much to stomach, feeling bile rise up your esophagus.
“This can’t be true… it can’t.” You choke on your words, sniffling back tears. “I can’t let you do that, Jungkook. You don’t get to sacrifice your life for me, I can’t let you.”
Jungkook’s dark brows furrow. “I’m not asking for your permission, Y/N. I will end your suffering, I’m ending this for good.”
You can’t believe him right now, blindly choosing to follow his own agenda without thinking about you. You’d never be able to handle Jungkook sacrificing himself in your name—it’s too much. “No you fucking aren’t, Jungkook. Don’t make my decisions for me, you’re not sacrificing yourself for me and that’s final!”
“And you don’t get to make that decision for me, either. Who I sacrifice myself for is my choice, and I won’t let anything happen to you!” Jungkook shouts back, stepping closer to drive his point home.
“Why are you doing this? Why are you choosing this when we can work this out, when we have other options?”
“Options that include subjecting you to eternal suffering, Y/N? I won’t let that happen because I love you, can’t you understand that?” He searches your eyes to share his truth, to help you see what lies within him for you—your tears only grow.
“And it’s because you love me you’ll die, Jungkook, do you understand that?” You sharpen your tone, decreasing the space between you two. “You won’t just die, either, you will cease to exist, as in there’s nothing left for you after. You'll never come back, you’ll never be reincarnated or magically saved, you won’t exist anymore.”
Jungkook swallows painfully at that, needing to look away from you—your voice breaks as you continue, lightly pressing your fist into Jungkook’s chest. “That’s what it means for you to die, Jungkook. It means our story, whatever we have, ends forever, and I can’t…” You choke up, agony clogging your throat.
It catches Jungkook’s attention, who lifts his eyes with insurmountable misery.
“I can’t live like that, Jungkook. I can’t live without you… I can’t live in a universe where you’re not… where you’re not…” You can’t continue, you can’t say the words anymore; sobs wrack your entire figure as the reality of your doom drowns you, wraps its macabre hands around your throat and reminds you of your endless cycle of pain.
Your chest constricts, weeping into your hands, seconds from collapsing until you feel Jungkook’s arms embrace you, tightly hugging you into his chest, cradling the back of your head. You completely crumble, pieces of your heart stabbing your lungs, unable to breathe.
Jungkook squeezes you tighter, no doubt tears spilling from his eyes as he listens to your wails, listens to the pain in your voice. “I can’t live without you, Jungkook. You can’t leave… I just met you, you can’t say goodbye to me, you can’t…”
“I know, Y/N.” His voice shakes, exhaling brokenly to level his tone. “But I can’t let you suffer, I can’t live knowing my baby’s suffering because of me, because I couldn’t choose her over myself—I can’t be selfish with you.”
Your sobs grow louder, finally allowing the reality of this to sink in, to swallow your soul whole and leave you hollow. “You can’t leave me, Jungkook, you can’t leave. We’ve barely done anything together, there’s so much left for us, there’s still so much…”
“I know, Y/N, but you’ll be able to do it with someone else.” Jungkook gently explains, stroking your hair. “Someone human, someone who won’t make you cry like this, someone who won’t leave, someone you can have kids and grow old with.”
“No, I don’t want that, I don’t want any of that.” You deny him, blubbering like a child into his chest. “You’re all I want… you’re all I want, Jungkook.”
You feel him wince against your hair, never ceasing his affectionate strokes. “I love you, Y/N…” He whispers, voice quavering with pain, squeezing you as tightly as he can. “I love you, okay?”
You shake your head, refusing to say it back because it feels like the end, it feels like he’s building a wall between you two to soften the inevitable blow, to make you accept this horrible fate, and you refuse to.
You push him away. “Don’t say that, don’t say that, Jungkook!”
“Why not, Y/N?” Jungkook sounds weak, and it’s then you realize tears are flooding his eyes, too, piercing your heart with sorrow. “It’s the truth; I love you, and it’s because I love you that I’m doing this.”
“No, no!” You stride away from him, inhaling sharply as your head begins to pound, pain seeping into every joint in your body. He can’t do this to you, he can’t.
How can he say he loves you when he means to leave you? He’s lying to you again, yet again he’s breaking his promise, annihilating it, you thought. He doesn’t love you, he wouldn’t put you through losing him if he did.
“I‘m not lying, Y/N, it’s because I can’t be selfish with you that I’m doing this, because I do love you.”
You pause, bewilderment etching into your features upon hearing an… answer to your thoughts. Your lips move slowly, furrowing your brows. “Wait… I didn’t… say that aloud.”
Simultaneously, Jungkook’s eyes horrifyingly widen, swallowing as though he’d been caught.
“I… I thought that in my mind… I didn’t say that aloud.” You repeat, steadily turning to face Jungkook, who strictly stares in front of him, avoiding you.
“Jungkook… can you… can you hear my thoughts?” Sheer shock is your only emotion, watching him grow antsy. “Can you fucking read my mind?”
Jungkook opens his mouth, but closes it. He stammers repeatedly until he sharply sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose with agitation. “I… it’s a Lucifer… thing. I can hear people’s thoughts to detect sins in them.”
Shock is an understatement; you’re gob-smacked, utterly flabbergasted. Jungkook can read your mind… your fucking mind… “Wait… how long have you been able to read my mind? To hear my thoughts?”
He swallows, flexing his jaw. He wets his lips before clearing his throat. “Since the moment I met you.”
“So you have been able to hear… every single thought I’ve had since I met you?”
He grimaces, conveniently drawing his eyes towards the bright, sunny skyline of Chicago. His silence angers you, sharpening your tone.
“Jungkook, answer me—have you been able to hear every single thought I’ve had since I met you? Including the ones I’ve had of you?”
Jungkook blinks, pressing a hand to his temple with a stressed sigh. “Yes; I’ve been able to hear every single thought you’ve had ever since I met you, including the ones about me.”
Your gut horridly twists, reeling. Jungkook has known? He could hear your feelings grow for him? Develop for him? He could see inside your head? You suddenly felt grotesquely violated, like he could’ve weaponized anything you’ve thought of against you, like he could’ve easily played into your desires and entertained whatever personal mind games for his own satisfaction.
Jungkook watches the realizations flash through your eyes. “Y/N, wait, I promise I didn’t purposefully do anything with whatever you thought. I can’t swim around in someone’s head, I can just hear thoughts, okay? And since my powers have been fading recently I can barely hear anything anymore, I promise.”
“You could see inside my fucking head, and all you can do is make excuses right now?”
“Y/N, no, wait. I promise—”
But it didn’t matter what Jungkook was going to promise, because you’re both suddenly interrupted by the sound of a blaring, high-pitched screech.
The sound batters your ears, the blood-curdling trumpetting in your head causing you to falter to the ground, Jungkook in tow. It seems to affect you more than it does him, however, because he’s not as phased by the ground that appears to shake, almost equivalent to an Earthquake. You feel his large, warm hands form to your writhing figure, comforting you.
“Y/N, hey, are you alright? Y/N!”
The sound is so loud you shout in agony, piercing your eardrums until it's followed by a bright, white light emerging into thin air in the main area of Jungkook’s suite. Your pairs of eyes follow the nearly blinding, unnatural beam, almost cracking open the universe itself.
Not long after, three figures dressed in impeccable white with angelic, empyrean features present themselves—your eyes widen at the sight. The sound becomes quieter, but you feel fluid seep down on the sides of your face. A touch from your fingers reveals blood, freezing with fear when the figures step out from the portal-like door. Jungkook beside you even seems to stop breathing, and his fearful eyes clue you into exactly what’s going on.
They’re here to take you.
“Brother,” the one on the right, Raphael speaks up, regretfully regarding his brother. “I told you there would be consequences.”
“Told you he wouldn’t listen, Raphael—always the overly moral guy.” Gabriel on the left chides his brother, leaving the most menacing looking one in the middle to be the one and only…
“Michael…” Jungkook whispers in shock, his petrified eyes unable to tear away.
“Lucifer, you haven’t followed through with your orders.” Michael’s deep, imposing voice flatley regards Jungkook, his stare intimidating enough to kill a man—literally. “You must come with us, refusing will only worsen your punishment.”
Jungkook’s body stiffens next to you, hardening with denial. “No, I’m not coming. I won’t let you condemn her and keep this horrendous cycle of her pain alive.”
Michael barely moves a feature on his face, stoically replying. “Then we’ll take you by force.”
In seconds, all you register is the malice in the three angels’ faces before they lunge towards you and Jungkook. You squeeze your eyes shut and cower into his chest, until you fail to feel anything—instead, you sense the heat of the sun itself before you.
Opening your eyes, you find Jungkook shielding you two with the same ring of fire he manifested in Las Vegas, his eyes glowering an orangey red, as though the flames of hell were in there.
“Don’t you dare touch her.” He demonically growls, emitting raw, unfettered rage. You watch as the three angels pause before Jungkook’s flames, reluctantly on the defensive. The use of his power immediately worries you, however, clutching his jaw with panic.
“Jungkook, don’t–ah!” Touching his skin literally scorches you, reeling as your blistered skin reveals a legitimate burn. The sound of your cry snags Jungkook’s attention, his fiery red eyes revealing worry.
“Y/N, angel, holy shit, I’m so sorry.” He deeply apologizes, straining to maintain his shield. “I’m so so sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
His concern even at a time like this melts you, shaking your head. “It’s okay, Jungkook, I’m okay, but don’t use your power, you can’t go!”
“It’s the only way!” Jungkook shouts, increasing the size of his shield, the flames raging brilliantly as they ward off the angels. “It’s the only way I can save you, run, Y/N. Run as fast as you can and don’t look back!”
“No, you said you’d say goodbye, don’t do this!”
“I’m sorry, I have to, it’s the only way.” He insists, guilt radiating in his irises. “You need to leave before I scorch this entire place, go!”
Your screech is so painfully loud, it causes the angels on the other side to come to a realization. Raphael urgently turns to the others. “He’s channeling enough power to kill himself. Michael, we have to stop him!”
“Kill himself? What do you mean, why would he do that?!” Gabriel yells over the ear-piercing whooshing of fire.
“To end her suffering.” Michael intuitively answers, his cold, distant eyes sliding in your direction. “He’s willing to kill himself to end the cycle of her punishment. What an impudent, cretinous brother we used to have.”
Jungkook strains himself as he forces out more power, watching the veins in his arms not only bulge, but reveal trails of scorching hot lava. It sears his skin, his eyes fiery red, the vessels around them lit with a bright orange as he remains determined to end this, to end everything.
“Y/N, run, please run!” He roars, the ferocity of his flames growing into a vicious inferno, terrifying you when he grunts in pain.
“Michael, we must do something, now!” Raphael urges.
“Brother, we can’t let him kill himself, we can’t!” Gabriel piggy-backs.
Michael exhales a calm breath, even shutting his eyes to do so. Without even so much as a bat of his eye, Michael opens his palm, as though grasping something, and slowly closes it, straining to squeeze the life out of something.
It’s immediate the piercing you feel, as though your windpipe is being crushed by a pole of reinforced steel. You scratch at your neck, attempting to pry something off you but finding nothing restraining you, struggling for air.
The sounds of your violent choking caution Jungkook, snapping his fearful eyes in your direction. “Y/N!” He reaches out for you, desiring to help, but that single second Jungkook loses focus, Raphael and Gabriel counter him with their pure energy, snuffing out his ferocious flames.
Jungkook cries out in pain as he collapses, and faster than your human eyes can detect, you and him are both snatched by your angelic pursuers, vanishing into the white beam they’d come from.
“How could you do this to her? She’s human!”
“Just let her go, she has nothing to do with this.”
“I’ll face any punishment, I promise, just please, let her go!”
Your head pounds, groaning as the weight in your mind lifts. Your eyes fight to flutter open, pierced by the nearly blinding white colour of the outside world.
“I swear, I’ll break out of this cell and murder every single one of you if you touch her.”
Your conscious slowly resurfaces hearing such a familiar voice. Jungkook? Did he say cell? Why can you hear the violent clanging of metal against metal?
Your curiosity forces you awake, inhaling sharply as you come to. Lifting your head, it’s hard to adjust to the scene before you. A holding cell, chains and restraints around your wrists and ankles, the pure, luminous white covering everything around you.
Or perhaps, nothing is covered in white, but everything is white. You survey your surroundings, panicking once you find yourself isolated.
“Why the hell did you nearly choke her to death? I thought you were one of the good ones, Raphael, you liar!”
Swiveling to your left, you find that your cellmate is your one and only loud, obnoxiously cute hot-head. “Jungkook!”
His doe eyes snap in your direction, relief flooding his features. “Y/N!”
He crawls over to you, reinforced bars separating your cells. The smile that plasters across your face is radiant, excitedly shuffling towards him to be near him, to feel him. You reach out to clasp his hand through the bars, but the minute you do, it's as though your meninges are being torn apart, the world's most excruciating migraine plaguing you.
“Y/N, Y/N, what’s happening?” Jungkook worriedly rambles, reaching through the bars to comfort you, only to be stopped by his chains. He curses, grinding his teeth harshly before his head whips in Raphael’s direction.
“What the fuck are you doing to her, huh? Hasn’t she suffered enough?!”
“I told you, Brother,” Raphael defends himself, lifting your head to catch a weary sight of him. “Hurting her in Chicago was not me, it was Michael.”
Jungkook scoffs, murderous eyes matching his tone. “You’re still the one who let it happen, asshole.”
“I warned you that not following through with your orders would lead to this, Lucifer.” Raphael stresses. “You neglected them. You knew this punishment was inevitable.”
“No, what I knew is that my brother would at least try to understand that you are hurting a human, an innocent human!” Jungkook rages. “Fuck your primordial cycle of endless punishment, Raphael. She is human, she’s not Lilith, she’s not a demon!”
“But the essence of a demon resides in her,” Raphael sharpens his tone, clearly in no mood to play games anymore. “How else could she feel pain right now?”
Jungkook’s dark brows furrow before settling his eyes on you, concern washing over him. One look at his face indicates that he knows exactly what’s going on, scrounging up enough strength to speak.
“Jungkook… what’s happening to me?”
Your fragile, broken voice causes Jungkook’s irises to glisten, sniffling away his tears as his expression hardens—Raphael’s the one who answers your question.
“Demons cannot withstand being in heaven; the pure energy here is damning to them, enough that it can kill them.” He robotically states, even if there’s a modicum of concern in there. “Only powerful demons are able to withstand it. It weakens them—causes horrible pain—but they can endure it.”
The realization crashlands on you, tears flooding your eyes as you swallow dryly. “I’m… I’m a demon?”
Raphael straightens his face, failing to show his emotions now. “Humans do not feel pain in heaven, but if you feel pain…”
You shudder out the weight crushing your heart, a gruesome chill crawling up your spine.
Your world turns upside down, but Jungkook grovels with frustration, shooting daggers at Raphael. The righteous Archangel swallows, shaking his head as he regards Jungkook. “You could’ve avoided this, brother. Your greatest sin was falling in love with her; remember that.”
Raphael stalks his way out of whatever detainment center this is, its pristine, unstained white almost daunting, serving as a reminder that it can only be sullied by your inferior existence.
Heaving for air, your hands begin to tremble, your entire body wracked by violent shivers. Jungkook’s face becomes riddled with sympathy, gripping the bars that divide you two. “Y/N, hey, talk to me. Are you okay?”
“No, no I am not okay, Jungkook.” You raise your voice, which only causes the echo to splinter your head, whimpering.
Jungkook winces, eyes flickering with worry. “I get it, I understand, Y/N, but you need to talk to me. What’s going through your head? What are you feeling—”
“What’s going through my head? What’s going through my fucking head?!” You shout. “What’s going through my head is where the hell are we?! Why are we here?! Why does everyone keep telling me I’m a fucking demon?!”
“Woah, hey, hey, calm down, baby. You’re fine, okay? Just look at me, you’re fine.” Jungkook attempts to pacify you, which only embeds more misery in you.
“I can’t calm down, Jungkook. I can’t… I swear… I’m not a demon. I’m just a human; a stupid, measly human that gets B’s in her classes and worries about her future and goes home for the holidays. I’m not a bad person… I’m not a demon, I’m not a demon!”
“I know, Y/N, I know,” Jungkook swallows thickly, his eyes shimmering with regret, guilt, every negative emotion he had the capacity to feel. “I’m so sorry this happened to you, Y/N. You don’t deserve this, you don’t deserve any of this. You’re right; you’re a good person and you’re not a demon.”
“I’m not a demon,” you feebly deny, really to yourself. You clutch your knees to your chest and borderline hyperventilate, repeating to yourself. “I’m not a demon… I’m not a demon, Jungkook. I promise, I’m not a demon, I’m not a bad person.”
When tears prick your eyes and you bury your head into your knees, it’s like a blackhole swallows Jungkook’s insides, leaving him empty—in despair.
“I know you’re not, Y/N. You’re not a demon, you’re not a bad person. You’re not Lilith—you’re you, Y/N. You’re you in the most annoying, yet adorable way that makes me wanna wrap you up in a warm blanket and snuggle you to death; either to cuddle you or to shut you up.”
His playful words actually invite you to laugh, the sound only lasting a mere second before it's replaced by painful sobs, tears cascading down your cheeks. “Where are we… Jungkook, why are we here?”
“We’re in the infamously overrated paradise.” He jokes at first, before biting back his own tears watching you cry. “We’re in Heaven, angel. And it’s just like I said; they arrested us. We’ll be having our hearing whenever they decide we’re worthy of one.”
Your horrified eyes flash in Jungkook’s direction, his expression softening with empathy as he regards you. You lean back against the pure white wall behind you, staring at the endless ceiling, wondering how things could’ve gotten this screwed up.
It’s been hours now, or what you think to be hours. The lack of a clock and being in a celestial realm must’ve hijacked your sense of time. You and Jungkook sat in silence for much of it, certain that he was allowing you the time to digest all of this, to provide you the space you need.
“Why don’t you feel pain?”
The sudden sound of your voice rejuvenates Jungkook, his beautiful eyes flickering towards you. “Hm?”
“The pain that I feel, why don’t you feel it, too? You’re the devil.”
Jungkook deeply inhales before exhaling, his eyes kind once he turns towards you. “It doesn’t hurt me because I was formerly an Archangel; technically still am, so I’m not really a demon, just estranged from this place. It’s more like… coming home after running away.”
You absorb that information, letting it distract you from the constant ache behind your eyes. “Good to know.”
You dip your head back again, breathing through the incessant pain. Your mind swirls with numerous thoughts; last words, last conversations—what is one meant to do when they’re steps away from a death sentence?
“Y/N… we never got to finish our conversation.” Jungkook’s silky, beautiful voice dances in your ears. It feels like an anchor, something to hold onto despite your impending doom.
“About me being able to hear your thoughts.”
You swallow dryly, turning away to conceal your grimacing expression.
“Listen, I’m sorry I never told you. I just knew it was useless because it’d be impossible for you to hide your thoughts from me, and you’d be under constant stress and anxiety trying to.” He explains himself, turning the entirety of his body to face you. “I swear; I was never trying to play mind games with you. I never… used something you thought to gain my way. Your thoughts were like something special I got to have with you, like always getting to hear my favourite song.”
Your heart throbs hearing that, the gentleness laced in his words easing you.
“It helped me understand you, it helped me realize that I never wanted you to hide the dark parts of yourself from me—that you’d be safe with me, and it’d be okay to have those thoughts.” You want nothing more than to see his face right now, slowly turning towards him to find the sweetest shimmer in his eyes.
“It just… feels a little weird, is all—you could hear all the dark, sinful thoughts I had.” You inhale sharply, clearing your throat, warmth flooding your cheeks. “You could hear all the dirty things I thought about you.”
Jungkook chuckles, bouncing a brow. “Oh, trust me, that was the most entertaining part.”
Your mouth falls agape. “You’re obnoxious.”
“Please; the amount of times I’d hear you wondering whether I’d let you ride my back or not. The answer is yes, angel, I’d totally let you.” His saccharine sweet smile prompts laughter out of you, becoming sentimental. This is what you loved most about Jungkook, you loved that he could make you laugh, that even in the face of an unavoidable death, he could crack jokes that surrenders even some of your pain.
“How… are your powers now?” You hesitantly query. “You said you couldn’t really hear me anymore, and you used a lot trying to fight off the Archangels.”
“They’re still there; I can feel them. If anything, I don’t feel as weak and fragile.” Jungkook tugs at his chains to demonstrate his strength. “I think I regained my angel form by being in a celestial plane, but I can’t use my powers at all.”
“Of course; it’s Heaven and you’re Lucifer.” You sigh, knocking your head back. Jungkook hums in agreement, mirroring your action. You hate the silence that befalls you two; it only causes your mind to swim in a sea of dismaying thoughts, eventually drowning in them.
“What’s going to happen to us, Jungkook?” Your cadence trembles, poorly attempting to contain a fresh set of tears. “What are they going to do to us?”
Jungkook fails to react, merely staring before him. His shoulders rise and fall with a deep breath, shaking his head. “I don’t know, baby. I don’t know…”
The hopelessness in his tone incites your tears again, sniffling them away before they tip over. Jungkook’s eyes slide over to you, concern bleeding into his features. He grips the bars to shuffle closer to you, reaching out his hand. “Come here, come to me.”
You crawl towards the bars, tightly grasping his extended hand. He cradles you meaningfully, entwining your hands together as firmly as he can, warm eyes set on you. “Listen to me, Y/N, I won’t let anything bad happen to you—I promise. I’ll do whatever I can to make sure you’re safe.”
The sincerity in him brightens the darkness clouding your heart, forcing a smile. “You don’t have to, Jungkook.”
“No, I want to, and I will save you; no matter what it takes.” Your gazes lock to enter a boundless world where only you and him exist, fighting back your misery. You lean you forward, and Jungkook finds your forehead in the middle through the space between the bars. He delicately runs his thumb over the back of your hand, turning upwards to plant a long, deep kiss to your forehead.
“You remember that I love you, Y/N.” He says.. “That’s all you need to do for me; just remember that I love you… that I’ve loved you through lifetimes, and I always will.”
You swallow thickly, refusing to succumb to another breakdown. “What Raphael said… about loving me.” Jungkook silently dotes on you, lifting his chained hand to smooth your hair.
“He said that loving me was your greatest sin.” You rehash the agonizing statement, squeezing his hand. “Is that true? Is loving me your greatest sin?”
Jungkook slowly exhales, tilting his head as he admires your eyes—the unadulterated love that pours out of him is enough to grip your heart. “There’s nothing I would change about loving you.”
You feel joy for all of five seconds before your ribs crack with realization, chest cavities filling with the pieces of your broken heart. “But it would’ve been easier, wouldn’t it? Not loving me?” You sniffle, tears shaking in your eyes. “You should’ve never loved me in the first place.”
You can see Jungkook’s heart shatter in his face, his eyes revealing his wounded soul. “Do you regret it?” He asks, cradling your jaw, running his thumb over your bottom lip. “Do you regret falling in love with me?”
“No, Jungkook, I don’t regret falling in love with you.” You embrace his hand that holds you, conveying your words with undeniable truth. “I just wish it could have lasted forever.”
Subsequently, you and Jungkook are interrupted by the door swinging open, followed by three burly, guard-like angels stomping in. Their size intimidates you, cowering away as they stalk towards your cell as though they must complete a task. They unlock your door, infiltrate your space and suddenly stand before you, Jungkook immediately protesting.
“Hey, what are you—”
Rapidly, you’re grabbed at by two men, resisting your number one course of action. “What the hell? Let me go!”
You kick and bat at them, but the pain knocking around inside your entire body is disconcerting, forcing your limbs to give up much earlier than you desire. You're lifted up against your will, attempting to snatch your arms back while Jungkook spills endless profanities.
“Why are you assholes manhandling her? She’s already chained up!”
The silent angels refuse to say a word, merely shooting Jungkook a menacing look before the third angel settles before you, reaches inside his coat, and maliciously plunges a dagger into your stomach. The pain that pierces you is indescribable, screeching with agony as blood begins staining Jungkook’s black shirt on your body.
“Y/N! Holy shit, Y/N!” Jungkook ceaselessly shouts, his voice cracking with horror once the crimson red trails down your skin and spills on the floor. “What the hell was that for? Why did you stab her?!”
“She must be weakened before she is taken to see the Council—she must not be a threat.” The one holding a dagger with your blood speaks—his voice is so lethally calm, you’re quite literally terrified. Your breaths quicken, increasing the gut-wrenching ache of your open wound, whimpering in pain.
“Are you fucking serious? She’s going to bleed to death before she even sees them!”
“This is Heaven, you forsaken angel. She cannot die.” The angel belittles Jungkook before nodding towards the two seizing you. They release you and you tumble to the ground, clutching your stomach as you cough out heaps of carmine blood, excruciating pain spreading across your body.
Jungkook’s worry is mountainous now, thrashing at his chains and the bars of his cell. “For fuck’s sake, I’ll smite all of you before you touch her again, let me help her!”
“There is no need, Lucifer; they’ve decided.” The angel’s sickeningly relaxed tone sounds daunting, causing Jungkook’s eyes to widen. “They’re ready for your hearing now.”
Simultaneously, you’re apprehended yet again by the same guard dogs, twitching in pain as your own blood stains the pristine white of everything; the angels’ clothes, the floor, the cell’s bars as you feebly reach out to connect with Jungkook, but you’re brutishly denied.
Jungkook causes an ugly scene once two more guards invade his cell, shouting and resisting with all his might, tossing around threats to anyone who dares hurt you again, but he’s unwillingly apprehended too. Both of you are dragged out of the detainment area into a long, white corridor that seems to stretch for miles.
Droplets of your blood spill all over the floor, your bloody handprints staining the walls as you weakly fight for your freedom. Jungkook still rages on, refusing to go down quietly—you’d expect no less from your favourite hot-head, your only positive thought in a horrifying moment like this.
By the time your vision is becoming hazy from blood loss and your muscles lose their strength, you come face to face with an enormous, intricately embellished door that stretches far and wide. You’re only able to feel the fear pumping in your veins before the doors open, and you’re hauled into your own personal judgement day.
Collapsing to the ground, you’re harshly forced to stand upright, your spinning head able to at least determine Jungkook being tossed onto a podium in the center of everything, restrained with an unnecessary amount of chains.
You’re far from him, off to the side in whatever could be considered a jury’s box, except vacant of any jurors. It’s only yourself and your two ruthless guard dogs who bludgeon you to stand, subjected to observing four walls in a daze.
The room is vast and wide, housing what you assume is a prestigious, empyrean audience in the form of a coliseum. All eyes fall to Jungkook, their hushed, incessant whispers indicating exactly what Jungkook had divulged to you once—not many angels have ever seen Lucifer.
Your line of sight falls to the tall benches in front of him then—extremely similar to a judge’s bench—with three very familiar angels behind; Raphael, Michael and Gabriel, in that exact order, with Michael’s slightly elevated in the middle.
Your cough suddenly draws the Archangels’ attention towards you, including Jungkook. He grits his teeth with a fed up expression, before his eyes glow their angry, fiery red at his estranged brothers.
“You better get on with this damn hearing so I can help her.” He scolds them, and a collective gasp from all the angels circulates in the room, indicative of their innocence towards cursing—Jungkook rolls his eyes. “I’m fucking Lucifer, what did you angels expect?”
More hushed whispering, and Jungkook grits his teeth. “I don’t need the theatrics, ‘brothers’; start this shit already.”
“Very well,” Michael blankly proceeds, straightening his already firm posture. “I’m sure you know what you’ve been brought here for today, Lucifer.”
“Well, I’m sure you’re gonna enlighten everyone and make me sound horrendously evil, anyway.” Jungkook’s saccharine sweet smile lathers his words with contempt.
Michael sighs, pitifully looking down at his brother. “You have been brought here today for your indiscretions not only in Hell, but on Earth as well.” Michael’s damning voice booms around the room, truly baffled by how much raw power he contains. “Lucifer; your journey of sin began in Hell with your ill-natured fixation on a certain human.”
“‘Ill-natured?’” Jungkook’s face scrunches. “I was in love with her, but you ripped her away from me and—“
“Moving on,” Michael overrides Jungkook, who seals his mouth shut and indignantly listens. “Your fixation caused sloth to compromise your duties. You had begun neglecting your mandatory tasks and relinquishing your role as Lucifer for a mere human, one who houses a demon at that.”
The little whispers here and there were irritating, even causing you to grind your teeth—it was hard managing the pain in your stomach as you struggled to listen.
“This is why you were banished from Hell and onto Earth, where your lesson was to meet the very same human that compromised your duties and condemn her wicked soul to hell as she houses the vicious demon Lilith.” Michael practically spits, and the entire room of angels collectively gasp at the information. You couldn’t stand their theatrics either—if only they knew the truth.
“Not only did you refuse your duties, but violated our most absolute rule regarding the secrecy of our celestial identities on Earth, and wrongfully utilized your powers. Subsequently, rather than reaping the consequences of your actions, you disregarded our rules and fell in love with an evil incarnate.”
The imposing Archangel speaks his piece so convincingly well, he effortlessly riles up your fighting spirit. How could a “good” being be so vindictive? “Considering your crimes, Lucifer, this human is to be banished to Hell for her harbouring of a demon, while you will have your memory erased of her existence as punishment for your improprieties and to ensure you continue your role as Lucifer as dutifully as you can.”
“What?!” Jungkook exclaims, straining at his chains as anger visibly seeps into his bones. “You can’t do that to her, you can’t! I won’t remember her and she’ll be horribly punished by me!”
“For that is exactly what must happen, Lucifer.” Michael confirms. “You of all beings should be aware of what punishment sin invokes.”
Jungkook clamps down on his teeth with rage. “This is unfair; it was never her fault the soul of Lilith was reborn in her, that’s your fault!” Jungkook accuses. “Do these angels here even know the real story? The real reason why you’re punishing Y/N and I?!”
Michael swallows, sharpening his eyes. “There is no other story, Lucifer. She is a demon and cannot be allowed to freely roam Earth.” Michael then directs his attention to the coliseum of angels, speaking with an elegance that funnily contradicted his immoral doings. “This, my fellow angels, is Lucifer. The traitor, the iniquitous being that dared defy his angelic nature to maintain his royal stature, to relish in the power he was gifted rather than be thankful to his creator. He will say anything, do anything of the sort to gain your sympathy, to manipulate you and allow sin to defile you. He will lie, he will cheat, and he will remain greedy for more power; you are to never feel sorry for him.”
Anger was an understatement, pure white hot fury pulsed through your veins. How could Jungkook be painted to be such a malevolent existence when his duties are forced upon him? When he didn’t choose this life nor to have his own brothers turn their backs on him? You couldn’t keep your mouth shut—your blood ragingly boiled.
“How dare… you?” You cough, breathing through the pain searing your stomach. “How dare you keep the real story from them? How dare you fail to mention the truth and punish him for simply falling in love?!”
Michael’s cut-throat gaze nearly harms you, and a bitter laugh escapes him. “Of course, his lover would say such a thing.” He announces, motioning towards you and Jungkook. “In this woman resides a demon who is in love with this wretched devil. She is blind to the atrocities he commits and has been corrupted by his sinful lies.”
“Atrocities? You’re saying I’ve committed atrocities? You’re the one who harms humans!” Jungkook shouts, the echo of his words causing the chittering angels to hush. “Have you told them that, huh? The way your angels chased and terrorized me and Y/N on Earth? Have violently abused her and nearly killed her? A human?”
“She is not human, she is a demon, and she will continue to be a demon that will rein terror on Earth. She is to be banished and punished!”
“She’s not a demon, she only has the essence of one because you’re the one that put it there in the first place! Look at her, fucking look at her!” Jungkook insists, hardening his murderous eyes and blood-boiling features. “All of you, look at her. Don’t you see her blood? Don’t you see that she’s bleeding?”
Michael scoffs. “I do not care for her blood—”
“No, you need to listen.” Jungkook grits, now flashing his tenacious eyes at the wide-eyed, quiet angels around him. “You all know what blood means. Blood means that she is human, a living, breathing human. A demon can’t bleed, only humans do.” Jungkook pleads, pouring his soul into his words. “It’s only because she’s in heaven that she hasn’t bled out, but if she were on Earth? She would’ve died 10 minutes ago. When the Councils’ people came for her on Earth, they nearly shattered her spine, crushed her windpipe, and abused her knowing she’s human. She only survived because of my powers. What do you think would’ve happened if I wasn’t there? If this happened to any other human?”
Jungkook’s words permeate the dense, thinking room, slowly digesting his point. “Don’t you know what that means? It means these people were willing to kill a human. She’s an innocent human just like the beings you’re all meant to protect, the souls that you are meant to nurture, guide towards good, and yet you’re going to sit there and let Michael tell you otherwise? Condone the near killing of one? Let him banish her to hell under the accusation that she’s a demon, when she isn’t?”
“Save your speech, devil.” Michael shuts down Jungkook. “You have still violated our rules by revealing to her you were Lucifer and using your powers. The essence of a demon still resides in her and you will do anything to defy us—”
“No! This isn’t about me saving myself, I don’t care about myself at all. I wouldn’t have violated any of those rules if you didn’t cast me out in the first place and threatened to harm her—how else could I fight off your minions trying to hurt a human without my powers?” Jungkook speaks with resolve, enough that you watch the angels’ faces change in regards to his words, all deeply thinking.
“This is about her; her name isn’t Lilith, her name is Y/N Y/L/N. She was born in Inglewood, California, she’s a Psychology major that eventually wants to become a therapist who helps people. She hates modern music and loves listening to classics. Her favourite food’s shawarma and she’s a horrible cook but makes a mean breakfast with her favourite purple frying pan every morning. She has a million cushions because she can never stop herself from buying them, can’t swim to save her life, and she’s an absolute baby with pain. She also drives the most beat-up Prius on the face of planet Earth.”
Your eyes water with a smile listening to Jungkook, wondering when he retained all this, heart throbbing at the fondness in his tone.
“She’s stubborn, and loud and obnoxious and has this witty mouth that makes me want to duct tape it shut sometimes,” Jungkook laughs, glistening eyes focusing on his audience. “But she’s loyal, and fierce and kind and caring. Her favourite things in the world are butterflies, because she believes their beauty is similar to the beauty of humans, and she still believes in pinky-promises. She’s the only person that has ever looked at me and not seen something evil, something to be neglected and thrown away. She understood me; she understood that helping me meant putting her own life in danger and she did it anyway.” Jungkook sentimentally recalls, sniffling away his tears. “These aren’t the traits of a demon, they’re the traits of a good human. She’s a fighter, she’s pure and good and she may be imperfect, but she’s imperfectly human. So please, don’t let Michael brainwash you. Understand that you will be punishing an innocent human soul; it’s not her fault that the essence of a demon resides in her. It’s forced upon her, it’s involuntary, and there’s absolutely no justice in condemning her.”
The room has fallen into a reflective silence, all by the eloquence of Jungkook’s touching words, the raw emotion their doused in. “So I’m asking you as Lucifer, even as the ruthless ruler of hell and the nefariously-known devil, to make your choice; either blindly send an innocent human to Hell… or help her.”
The angels hesitantly turn and discuss matters with each other, hearing a myriad of speculations.
“He is Lucifer, he must be lying.”
“But she is bleeding; he is right, demons do not bleed.”
“But the essence of Lilith still resides in her, it may be a matter of time before she turns evil.”
“But it is true she’s human; angels are not meant to harm humans.”
“Michael is hiding something, there seems to be more to the story. We musn’t decide without the details.”
Michael’s frantic eyes shoot around, observing everyone’s chatter. “Fellow angels, do not believe a word out of his mouth; he is a sinner, a defiler—”
“Hush, Michael.” Raphael eases his brother. “You must let the angels decide; may I remind you they are the voices of Heaven, we do not act irrationally without the say of our companions and every being brought before us must be granted the fairness of discretion.”
“Seriously, Brother,” Gabriel cuts in. “Great haste makes great waste; we must listen to their verdicts.”
Michael grinds his teeth with indignance, seating himself rigidly with murderous side-glances in your direction. The angels relentlessly chitter away, causing Raphael to lift his hand and order their silence.
“Lucifer,” he begins, folding his hands over his bench. “Y/N may be human now, but who is to say she will not be consumed by the essence residing within her? How can we be sure that setting her free will not be unleashing a known, merciless demon on Earth?”
Jungkook chews on the questions, strengthening his timbre. “I’ll personally make sure of it; I’ll keep an eye on her since I would know exactly when she’s being taken over by Lilith—no other demon or regular angel would be able to overpower her, anyways.”
“And who’s to say you won’t hide the truth from us?” Gabriel queries. “We may be willing to hear you out, but you do not have our trust, Lucifer. Unless you can provide a surefire method that proves her innocence will stay intact and that you won’t act irrationally because of your feelings for her, we cannot discuss negotiations further.”
Jungkook violently grinds his teeth, the gears in his head turning, spiralling as he formulates a plan. “I’ll… um…” He hesitates, a troubled expression etching onto his face.
That moment of silence serves him the second he needs to collect himself, shutting his eyes with a deep breath, until he opens them, assured of his answer. “If you grant me my role back in Hell, I’ll erase the memories she has of me; if I erase them she won’t remember any of this, she’ll live her life as a regular human none-the-wiser, and therefore will remain innocent. It will eradicate the consequences of me revealing myself and my powers to her as well, and keep the demon Lilith at bay.”
The loudest gasp in the room must’ve been yours, tears flooding your eyes within seconds, fighting against the two guard dogs restraining you. “No, no! Jungkook, don’t you dare, don’t you dare do this!”
“Again, how can we be sure your feelings for her will not compromise your actions?” Raphael queries, while Michael brews with anger and Gabriel wonders the same.
“Me removing our memories of each other should be enough proof, no?” Jungkook miserably replies. “I’m willing to return to my duties, do whatever you tell me and erase all traces of myself from her life; I’m willing to let her go for her vindication despite my feelings for her, and you can instead punish me all you want in return.”
“No, Jungkook, no!” You incessantly scream, not caring for the physical pain anymore; the tearing of your heart out of your chest felt more excruciating than anything. “You can’t do this, stop it!”
“Brother, are you truly willing to do this?” Raphael seriously asks, a small sliver of concern in his tone. “You are to erase everything she knows of you, everything you have shared, while you are to remain with your memories and have that pain be a part of your punishment. Are you certain your feelings for her will not compromise this negotiation?”
Jungkook weakly laughs, exhaling deeply. “I’d never do anything to put her in danger; so yes, I’m willing to do this and never see her again; to keep her safe.”
Your screams must’ve been loud, and yet Jungkook ignores each and every one of them, watching everyone discuss his words. They ruminate about his offer until Raphael silences the room, even Michael tamed enough to let Raphael take the lead.
Raphael straightens his posture, projecting his voice. “You’ve heard what he’s offered, fellow angels. If you are in favour of banishing Y/N to hell where she is to suffer for her transgressions with Lucifer and the potential threat she poses on Earth, lift your hand.”
You watch a good handful agree to that; you couldn’t tell how many angels were in this room, but even a handful appeared to be a lot.
“Now, those in favour of taking Lucifer’s offer and allowing this girl to live freely as a human?”
You’re shocked; at least 70% of the room raises their hands, indicating which solution as the victor. But even if that meant sparing your life, you couldn’t bear to endure what came next.
“No, no no no, don’t let him erase himself from me, don’t let him take my memories!” You screech to nobody in particular, voicing your piercing pain. “Please, Jungkook, don’t do this. You can’t suffer because of me, you can’t!”
All you hear in that moment is Raphael announcing the final verdict; you’re to live as long as Jungkook erases your memories, and he regains his throne in Hell so long as he’s allowed to endure whatever punishment the Council sees fit.
Your teary eyes connect with Jungkook during the announcement, conveying a million things that beg him to stop this, to take it all back, to just find another way. But his kind, sweet eyes indicate he’s not going to do such a thing—you feel every vessel in your body cease to function when you see him mouth the faintest, most miserable two words as his only response.
You’re hurled into another shady, white room, heaving from the impact on your pierced stomach. The door’s shut before you can even beg to see Jungkook, spiraling from what’s going to transpire.
You’ll fight, no, you’ll use absolutely every ounce of adrenaline within you to stop Jungkook. He can’t erase your memories of him, he can’t simply steal the memories that mean everything to you.
Yes, at one point, you would’ve craved losing all traces of him within yourself to live a sound, peaceful life. But you’re tethered to him now, boundlessly, as though your soul was made for him—to love, cherish and fight for him. Even if it means enduring excruciating pain, you’ll do whatever you must; it’s undeniable what lengths you’re willing to go for him now.
In your sea of misery, the sound of the door clicking open alarms you, finding an unrestrained Jungkook sneaking his way in. You can hear the incessant drone of the commotion outside, knowing the coliseum of observers must be in a tizzy.
“Jungkook!” You breathe, forgetting about your bloodied stomach and leaping into his arms. Jungkook swiftly catches you, embracing you as dearly as he would a treasure. His hand weaves through your hair as the other cradles your back, his face burying in your neck.
“Y/N,” he breathes, basking in you. He draws away to analyze your face, frantic eyes revealing worry. “Are you still in pain? Did they hurt you again?”
“No, no,” you quickly shake your head, holding his jaw. “Jungkook, please tell me you lied. Tell me you lied and you’re not going to take anything from me. I don’t want to forget you, I don’t want to forget us; I won’t let you.”
You couldn’t bear how pathetic you sounded, but who wouldn’t be in a situation like this? You couldn’t believe half of whatever transpired in the last 24 hours, but all you truly believed was the way you felt about Jungkook, this one man who’s holding you like you’re his everything and more, who’s thrown away his entire life for you.
“I know, I’m sorry… I’m so sorry.” He apologizes, running his thumb over your cheek. “But I promise, I’m doing this for us, I really am.”
You notice the deflection in his words, sorrow flooding your alreasy miserable features. “You’re still going to do it? You’re going to take everything we had away from me?” Anger replaces your sadness soon, unbelieving of him right now. You touch your feet to the ground and force space between you two, refusing him. “No, you can’t do this, you fucking can’t!”
Jungkook approaches you carefully, holding a finger to your lips. “Y/N, shh, let me explain, okay? It’s not what you think.”
Opening your mouth to counter him, you’re interrupted by the door opening again, revealing a furtive, distraught Raphael.
“Brother,” he urgently calls Jungkook, rapidly shutting the door behind him. “Michael nearly had my head for suggesting I visit you rather than him. Do you truly understand what you are to do? Erasing her memories will not absolve her of her eternal punishment, she will still be reborn into another lifetime. You are only delaying the inevitable.”
“No, Raphael, I’m allowing an innocent human to live out the rest of her life without the burden of me.” Jungkook reasons. “I understand the consequences, I understand everything; just please, let me do this. Hold off Michael for now and I promise I’ll hold up my end.”
Raphael grits his teeth, taking one good look at you, then at Jungkook, his eyes burning with a myriad of emotions; the only distinct one is exhaustion. “Fine, I can only grant you five minutes.”
Raphael turns on you both and disappears in the blink of an eye, leaving you and Jungkook alone again—you regain your ability to fight.
“Jungkook, don’t you dare—”
“Shh, shh,” Jungkook coos, taking your face in his palms. “Angel, listen to me, I’m not going to take away your memories.”
Your eyebrows furrow, struggling to speak. “Wh-what?”
“I’m not doing it. I’m not taking away what we had to appease those fucks, okay? I won’t bow down to them, especially when they think they’re right when they’re wrong.” Jungkook seethes, his eyes more sincere than ever. “I’m going to pretend like I erased them from you, we’ll have you sent back to Earth while I find a way to undo your eternal punishment.”
Your head practically spins, the room far too small for you to breathe in. “Wait… you lied? You won’t erase my memories? Won’t they figure out—”
Jungkook, despite the situation, actually cracks a devilish grin. “I’m Lucifer, angel, I can do anything, and I will for you.”
You digest everything slowly, holding a stressed hand to your forehead. “But I’ll be sent back to Earth, I’ll be without you, Jungkook. And I’ll be human; one human life on Earth is nothing compared to your immortal, celestial one.”
Jungkook’s face softens. “I know, I know it won’t be the same. But please, let me do this, okay? I promise, I pinky-promise I’m going to find a way to undo your punishment, to make sure you live a long, happy life without me.”
“There’s no guarantee you’ll find anything, Jungkook. This has been going on for entire lifetimes… who knows how long you’ll take to find something?” You exasperate. “You can’t say goodbye… you can’t say goodbye to me like this.” Your grip his hands on your face, shaking your head with vehement denial. “Don’t send me back, please don’t send me back without you, Jungkook, please.”
Jungkook breathes in strongly, composing himself. “I’ll make sure angels never bother you, but if they do, act like you don’t know me, okay?” He explains, choosing to neglect the way you beg him to come with you, and continuing. “I know it’s going to hurt, which is normal because even if I did go through with erasing myself from your memories, you’ll still feel like something’s missing. So it’s alright if you’re sad for a bit, but don’t think of me, Y/N. Don’t cry over me, don’t dream of me or miss me. Make yourself forget me and meet someone new, build a life for yourself and live the way you choose.”
“Stop it, stop!” You attempt to shove him away, even whacking his chest, but Jungkook goes on, silently enduring the pain while maintaining a calm facade for you.
“Accept yourself, all of you—even the dark parts you hate. Don’t apologize for who you are to anyone, don’t hide your beauty because you doubt your self-worth, and don’t ever let anybody cage you in.” Jungkook declares passionately, holding you desperately. “You’re my angel, baby, you’ve got wings… and I know you’ll fly only if you let yourself.”
Jungkook leans down to seal your lips for a deep, consuming kiss. He endearingly connects your foreheads afterwards, even entwines your little pinkies together to bind his promise, and all you can do is cry and plead, devising ways to run from this room, to valiantly refuse him, to tear down his house of cards, but you’d only cause Jungkook more harm—puts all his efforts to waste.
So you cry. You cry, wail and sob as Jungkook presses a meaningful kiss to your forehead and whispers to you one last time, “I love you, Y/N,” he softly says, your heart wrought with despair, your chest collapsing with unbearable agony. Your body is overcome with a bright, bright light, and you can’t do this, you can’t.
His silky smooth voice serenades you before you feel every particle in your body slowly fade away, his last words your only salvation.
“Bitch, you need to come out more. This Halloween party is going to be huge and you better show up in something slutty.”
“I don’t know, Mads, I’m not really up for a party.”
“Please, you haven’t been up for anything for months, Y/N. Seriously, what the hell happened to you over the summer? It’s really worrying me, babes.”
“Nothing… I… just… my night terrors. I haven’t been getting much sleep because of them and I’m too tired for a party.”
“Awh, well, alright then. You know I value your health over anything. If you need someone to stay the night with you you’ll call me, right?”
“Of course, Mads, thanks.”
You abruptly end the call, leaning back on the maple bench you warm up as dried, orange leaves scatter around your feet. Inhaling a deep breath of the fresh, autumnal air, you steal a moment to enrich your lungs with much-needed oxygen.
Only a single moment, though, before the hole in your heart reminds you of how hollow you really are, and no oxygen will remedy that.
Heartless; that’s what you were. As though somebody had torn out your heart and you now merely survive as a husk, unable to feel anything. Agony wasn’t a strong enough word, not even excruciating. The kind of pain you’ve felt for the last three months left you numb; numb to sensation, to feeling, to anything.
You barely noticed when the season changed, let alone retained a single article of academic knowledge when your classes restarted. The semester blurred, much like everything else around you as it began to rain outside, and it dripped all over your hair and face, your jacket and shoes.
You didn’t bother drying yourself or ducking under a building; nothing bothered you much these days. You grab your bag, rise up from your seat, and steadily stalk towards your car you’d parked somewhere on campus.
Climbing in, you toss your bag in the passenger seat, simply sitting behind the wheel. You don’t turn on your car, don’t reach inside for your keys. You merely… sit, wallow, exist, things you do often these days.
It’s in your sitting that your radio suddenly turns on, playing a static version of ‘Devil In Her Heart’ by The Beatles—a miserable smile paints your lips, gripping your steering wheel.
“One of your favourites, isn’t it?” You ask, swallowing the lump clogging your throat. “Is it because of the actual song or because you remember it played the first night we met?”
You don’t get an answer, you never do. But you know he’s there, you know it’s him, you know he communicates with you sometimes.
It’s been three agonizing months since you had to leave Jungkook. For the first month, losing him obliterated such a large part of you, you didn’t leave your bed for weeks.
After waking up soundlessly in your apartment once you’d been casted out of heaven, it was as though your life hadn’t changed at all since you left—except that Jungkook was gone.
The loss of him was so agonizing, so soul-crushingly debilitating, basic human function wasn’t in your vocabulary anymore. You neglected your family and friends’, ignored their concerns, drove yourself into the ground by refusing to stand on your feet and feed yourself, let alone find a shred of happiness in anything.
Your night terrors even returned, haunting you nearly every night, recalling the ghastly scenes of your blood staining the purity of heaven, the traumatizing image of Jungkook handing over his freedom and autonomy to his despicable brothers.
Jungkook’s words constantly ran through your head, his words that angered you and yet kept you from ridding yourself of the pain forever. He envisioned so many passionate, enriching things for you—to saturate your life with all the possibilities he convinced himself his absence would grant you.
Turns out he was wrong.
But you couldn’t waste the chance he gave you by taking the easy way out. You had to live, you had to endure this—that didn’t ease the pain by even a sliver.
It started in the second month, when your appearance had severely changed, when you couldn’t recognize who stared back at you in the mirror anymore, when you could barely catch a single night of sleep with the amount you screamed yourself awake. Your parents had even visited you, fed up with your lack of communication, devastated by your mental health compromising your physical health. You returned to your bedroom where your mother slept in your bed, finding some feathers scattering it, contemplating when you or she possibly tore one of the many cushions Jungkook claimed you had.
You paid it no mind, chalking it up to your mother or depressed delirium.
Another day, you found the milk already taken out of your fridge when you scavenged inside it for breakfast. You’d convinced yourself you’d simply forgotten you ever took it out.
The next time, when your phone buzzed with a notification, revealing that you’d been tagged in a photo by an unknown user and clicked on your screen, you found that it led to a dead end. You constantly refreshed wondering if your Wifi simply died, but your lights all of a sudden flickered, and you nearly screamed when the cushions on your couch tore open, launching feathers in every feasible direction.
You watched as the fluffy white things slowly cascaded down to the ground, wondering what could possibly be happening to you… until it all came crashing down.
The feathers… when you and Jungkook first tussled in your bedroom and he tore your pillow open, causing dozens of feathers to litter your room.
There was only one answer—it’s him.
Soon after, it was your car randomly playing his favourite songs. It was suggestions to his favourite restaurants open on your laptop, being drawn to his favourite places in town. Then it was the playful, harmless pet names etched into the steam on your bathroom mirror, ‘human’, ‘angel’, ‘my baby’. They were little signs of him, little anecdotes that he was real, that he can see you, maybe even hear you.
Does he watch you? From his throne in hell? Is he still looking for a way out of your punishment? You wonder millions of things constantly. Is he being punished right now? Is he suffering for you? Has he been caught and everything you’re hoping for has already been taken away from you?
You lean back in your car seat, fighting the violent tears threatening to spill. “I’m not going to that stupid party, Jungkook. I’m not fucking going.” You deny him, knowing that he wants you to go, that he wants you to live your shitty life as though there’s any happiness to be found in it. “I’m not going to fucking live my life when you’re not here, you asshole. There’s nothing happy in my life without you, okay? I’m not gonna cram myself into some slutty angel costume and grind against sweaty womanizing frat boys; they’re not you, Jungkook, they’re not you!”
Your outburst causes you to smack your dashboard, faltering your head on your steering wheel and wallowing in your self-loathing. Everything felt as though it was imploding from inside you, as though your soul would never find peace or joy.
The sound of your window being etched into catches your attention, seeing the text ‘go’ inscribed in Jungkook’s impeccable hand-writing. You sigh, nibbling your bottom lip to keep your emotions at bay. “Nothing good will come from me going, Jungkook.”
Again, your window reveals a new message. ‘For me?’
Swallowing thickly, a bitter laugh spills out of you, draping your arms over your steering wheel and using every ounce of your strength to not smash your head against it. You feel insane, borderline lunatic communicating with Jungkook like this, but it oddly fills you with even a semblance of comfort, wiping at your mascara-smudged eyes.
“Fine,” your voice cracks, sniffling again. “I’ll go, but only for you.”
That, is the only thing that festers a hint of a laugh from you, recalling the precious night you taught him how to make one. If only you could go back…
“Okay, pinky promise.”
Inhaling a deep, shaky breath, you stare at the unnecessarily gargantuan frat house from its porch. The music bumps far too loudly, its bass practically vibrating the floorboards. You endlessly fidget with your fingers, impatient feet wiggling in your pearly heels.
Your costume feels too tight; its corset-style top accentuated your breasts and showcased your shoulders, your knee-high skirt frilly and embroidered with crystals. Large wings decorate your open back, and a halo sits pretty atop your head on a headband.
This is too much, you shouldn’t have done this. You shouldn’t have called Madison and let her handle your costume, because the pit in your stomach regarding meeting new people after being anti-social for months only grows deeper and darker inside you.
You nearly make a run for it until Madison catches you, scolding you with her prettily coloured and gem-ridden eyes that match her faerie costume.
“Oh no, missy, you’re getting in there before I kick your ass with my faerie magic.”
You wince, recalling a certain conversation. “Angels actually outrank faeries, Mads.”
She scrunches her features. “According to who?”
“Whatever, you’re getting inside and having the time of your life, no excuses!”
Anxiety fills you at every possible turn once you’re submerged in the dancing, bustling bodies. The smell of weed and vape are so pungent you grimace every two seconds, and everyone reeking of alcohol or sweat doesn’t improve your experience, either.
“C’mon, have a drink!” Madison encourages you once she’s dragged you to the kitchen, offering fruit punch very obviously spiked with copious amounts of alcohol.
“Oh, no–I don’t think so.” You deny her, attempting to be polite, but a little voice in your head tells you otherwise.
‘He wanted you to live your life… to unapologetically be yourself.’
Inhaling a nervous breath, you grab the red solo cup from Madison’s hand and down the entire thing, feeling the alcohol burn your throat. You falter against the counter behind you, chest inflating and deflating as you let the liquor invade your system.
You suddenly feel… lighter, almost calmer. Your head storms less and the party appears livelier, not scarier. You fish yourself another cup of the fruity, boozy concoction, chugging it as though it were water. You take another drink, and another, before your brain begins pirouetting, loopy enough to actually smile at Madison when she comments on you finally earning a fun bone back in your gloomy body.
Every muscle is suddenly enriched with energy, a buzzing desire to move, to sway around, to dance. Madison practically reads your mind, hauling your ass onto the dance floor with a hoot and holler that genuinely excites you.
The raunchy music becomes your only muse, alcohol keeping your mind empty and your body swinging. You can’t believe how wasted you already feel, can’t believe the fun you’re having. You catch yourself laughing, smiling, singing—all things you’d lost the ability to comprehend ever since…
Your favourite track suddenly blares from the gigantic speakers, whooping along to the body-grinding lyrics with Madison as she hypes you up.
“Hell yeah, Y/N! Dance that shit out!” She cheers, smacking your ass when you spin around for her. “I’m so glad to see you having fun, this is exactly what you needed!”
Far too lost in yourself, you don’t even register Madison introducing you to a random guy, who happens to be smoking hot. Your drunk mind conjures up something to say to him; a botched introduction, a shitty pick-up line, frivolous questions, you’re not sure, but this man knows how to touch you, and his hands are tempting.
You cling around his neck, focusing on the dancing more than flirting with him, drowning in the beat of the blood-pumping music. It isn’t until you feel the guy’s hands moving elsewhere, and his face suddenly closing in on your lips, does your brain decide to finally work.
He’s going to kiss you, and your system… rejects that; it feels wrong. You instinctively push him away.
Clutching a hand to your forehead, it’s as though your alcohol-haze clears up, finally unearthing the rational part of your mind. Your eyes dart around you, unfamiliar with the scene. What are you doing? Why are you partying at a random frathouse with people you don’t even know? Why were you letting a random himbo run his hands all over you?
Just when the thought crashes down on you, the frat boy wraps his hands around your waist and invites you back, attempting to plant his lips on you again. You panic, frantically forcing him away.
“I’m sorry, I can’t do this. I’m sorry.” You profusely apologize, shoving your way through the crowd for space, air, something. You practically claw your way to the entrance, not even caring about Madison or where your other friends could be.
You shouldn’t be here, you shouldn't be having fun and indulging in alcohol, greed and lust. This isn’t you, none of this erases or fills the hole in your heart, none of this remedies the permanent black hole your soul was lost in.
This only proves exactly what’s haunted you for the last three months; you’re a sinful person that has a demon residing within her.
Your mind spins with thoughts of Jungkook, wondering what he could be thinking seeing you like this, seeing you enjoying yourself without him. Maybe it was fun for five seconds, but you don’t deserve that. You don’t deserve anything after the chaos your mere existence has caused, the trouble and grief you’d brought upon him.
He could be suffering for you right now, and that thought makes you sick to your stomach, fighting the bile crawling up your throat.
Heart racing and lungs desperate for air, your frantic feet carry you out into the streets, pacing God knows where. You just need to clear your head, you need to grasp what the hell you’re doing and who you think you are, barely recognizing the person you just were.
In all your thinking, you don’t consider checking both ways before stepping out into the road, attempting to flee the party, to get so far away nobody could chase you and beg you to be somebody you’re not, to convince you you’re deserving of anything good when really, you aren’t.
Unexpectedly, all you hear is a blaring horn, see the blinding headlights of a speeding car before you can sneak a glance at it. The second you do, you know it’s over, only a few feet between yourself and the racing vehicle.
You inhale a deep, shocked breath, limbs too frozen to move. You want to move, or do you? Do you perhaps deserve this? Is this really all you’re meant to amount to in life? Is this how it miserably ends?
You decide to… accept that fate, accept that this impact will most likely shatter your spine or crack your head open on the pavement below.
You shut your eyes, inhale a deep breath, ready to meet your end… but the impact never comes.
Instead, you feel arms wrap around your body and swiftly turn you out of the way, clutching you to their much larger body. The movement felt as smooth as butter, prying your eyes open to observe your saviour, and nearly collapsing.
Fear floods your system, knowing you must be seeing things, or must be in some sort of limbo between life and death, because there’s no way… no way in Hell you’re...
You swallow harshly as you peer up at Jungkook, still snug in his arms. He feels reals, he feels like flesh and bone and your initial reaction is to shove him away, taking several steps back. “No… impossible. This is impossible… this can’t be you… you’re an angel, aren’t you? I’ll kick your ass!”
Jungkook wets his lips, slowly tucking his hands in his black jean pockets with a laugh; a black shirt and matching leather jacket hug his brawny frame, too. His gaze is soft as he regards you, lips slightly curved into your favourite smile. “It’s me, angel.”
Blinking once, twice, three times doesn’t erase the image of him. For a second, you think you’re sincerely hallucinating, chalking this up to whatever hardcore crap somebody dumped in the fruit punch. Another minute goes by, and he doesn’t vanish, simply standing there as he patiently waits for you.
All of a sudden, tears wet your eyes, throat swelling with powerful, undeniable emotion as the realization hits you. “Jungkook?”
He shows off that bright, sexy grin of his, tonguing his lip ring. “Yes, angel?”
Your entire system is overwhelmed with pure rapture, feeling ten times lighter. Your heels clack over the pavement as you break out into a sprint, Jungkook happily holding out his arms for you. His joyful grin only brings more tears to your eyes, immediately hopping into him and feeling him effortlessly catch you. He squeezes the life out of you as sobs escape you, completely drowning in the disbelief that he’s actually here… he’s here.
“Jungkook… Jungkook…” you cry into his neck, attacked by all the familiar things you couldn’t bear missing anymore. His scent, his warmth, his strong body, his cold piercings, his protective hands that hugged you as though he’d been in the same pain as you.
“Yeah… it’s me, Y/N… it’s me.” Jungkook breathes as he cradles you tightly, stroking your hair, his voice thick with emotion, too. He inhales the fragrance of your hair, feeling his tense body relax before he draws away, smoothing his thumb over your cheek.
“How… how are you here? How can you be here?” A barrage of questions wreak havoc on you, only sated by Jungkook shushing you.
“Shh, let’s talk somewhere else, yeah?” He suggests, and you nod vehemently with a sniffle, not wasting the opportunity to tightly embrace him once again as Jungkook walks your entangled bodies down the street.
Jungkook lets your feet touch the ground after strolling the streets with you, taking his offer to seat yourself just outside a park, where he, too, takes his seat on a bench—his eyes never leave you.
“You know, I know I call you an angel, but I never thought I’d actually see you looking like one.” He comments as he leans back, crossing his leg over the other with an amused gaze. “A hot one, too.”
You muster the strength to laugh, sniffling away the last of your ugly tears. You slowly bite your lip, eager eyes flickering all over his unchanged, sinfully hot appearance. His hair wasn’t long anymore, rather cut shorter and styled impeccably, his ears showcasing pretty earrings that dangled deliciously by the sides of his face, maybe even sporting thicker muscles.
“You look different,” you note with a forced smile, skittish next to him. You weren’t sure how to act, too in awe of his current presence to care about your behaviour.
“You too, angel. Good different.” He returns the compliment, leaving you to pick at your nails, unsure of what to say.
“Jungkook…” You begin, clearing your clogged up throat. “How… how are you here?”
Jungkook clicks his tongue, contemplatively tapping the back of the bench he drapes his bulky arms over it. “Well, it’s a long story, but I basically used my good looks and undeniable charm to get my way through.” He flashes you a pearly white smile, causing you to laugh, ignoring the moisture flooding your eyes.
“I’m serious, Jungkook. How are you here… how can you even talk to me right now?”
Jungkook weightily sighs, leaning his head back to stare at the star-less sky above. “I was able to make a deal to come see how you were doing, look for signs of Lilith coming out, observe whether your memory loss is still ‘in-tact’.” Jungkook air-quotes, his expression falling. “But really… I just wanted to see you… I needed to.”
The ache in your chest burns you deeply, grinding your teeth to subdue the pain. “Why?”
Your whisper is so quiet, Jungkook faces you, his doe eyes just as beautiful as you remembered. “Y/N… I’ve been seeing everything; I knew you were going to let that car hit you.”
Embarrassed, you clear your throat, breaking eye contact with him. “Everything?”
“Everything.” He confirms. “I thought you’d eventually heal, that time would treat you right and you’d forget about me. But I couldn’t see you so upset anymore, I had to see you. I convinced the Council and the Big Man upstairs that I was just checking up; that they at least owed me that for the shit they’ve put me through.”
Your lips threaten to tremble, uselessly picking at the end of your dress to contain your emotions. “What did they do to you, Jungkook?” You tentatively ask, sniffling. “How did they… punish you?”
Jungkook swallows at that, hardening his expression as he stares elsewhere—his desolate, traumatized eyes are enough to tell you his story. “You don’t want to know.”
The information shatters you, sobs collecting at the back of your throat, fresh tears staining your cheeks.
When Jungkook sees you, sympathy overwhelms him. He carefully reaches out his hand, slowly clasping yours in your lap—you jolt at first, but the sensation melts you, tentatively clutching him back.
“I also came because… I wanted to tell you that I’ve tried everything, Y/N.” Jungkook speaks seriously, softly admiring how your stunning features are like stars creating the gorgeous constellations that is your face. “I had one of my best investigative princes of Hell Hobi look into it. I searched and searched myself… and there’s no way out of this for us, angel. There’s no way for me to stop your eternal punishment.”
That truth pierces your chest, but it’s already hollow, leaving you to simply nod, simmering with the news. “I had a feeling.”
Jungkook runs his thumb over the back of your hand, softening his voice. “I’m sorry… angel. I’m so sorry, I promised you.”
“It’s not your fault.” You shrug him off, wiping away a stray tear. You build up the courage to connect your eyes, plastering a small smile on. “It’s okay.”
Jungkook slightly smiles, but it’s sad too, releasing your hand to smooth over your hair, affectionately stroking it. He simply looks at you, his eyes communicating millions of things, unable to decipher what he feels. You remain quiet, too, only left to fall deeper into his abyss, no matter how macabre your fate.
“I’ll never be okay with this.” He says, struggling to maintain his composure. “I’ll never be okay… being away from you… watching you suffer so much that you’d contemplate ending your own life.”
You lean into his touch, breathing in his scent. “Me neither.”
Jungkook traces a strand of your hair, skimming down to play with your earring instead, his look full of longing. “I spent everyday in my own personal hell… watching you.”
You yearn to be closer to him, shuffling slightly, setting your hand over his toying with your jewelry.
“I couldn’t bear to watch it, I couldn’t… I couldn’t accept it. I knew I’d told you to forget about me, to live as if I never existed, but I also knew you were hurting, and I couldn’t watch you suffer. I sent messages to help you, to help ease your pain—I wanted you to hold onto the hope that you weren’t alone.”
Taken by his words, you understand them, nodding for him. Jungkook hesitates cupping your jaw, but does it anyway, caressing your bottom lip with his thumb. His sorrowful look, his pleading eyes tell you enough; he missed you just as much as you missed him, and the pain he felt was identical.
Nearly moving to fit into his arms, Jungkook winces, hesitantly retracing. His expression is riddled with contempt, grinding his teeth. “I’m not… I don’t know what to do. I can’t change anything, and I know I have to leave you again, but I can’t… I can’t move on without you.”
His troubled face floods you with sympathy, his clenched fists and rigid body pushing you to speak. “Then just… don’t, Jungkook.”
He furrows his brows. “I have to… it’s the only option.”
“It isn’t,” you whisper, capturing his attention. You feel incredibly vulnerable, but wear your heart on your sleeve, bearing all there is behind your ribcage; a tattered heart and broken soul that still loves him. “Condemn me, Jungkook, and we can see each other… we won’t have to be apart.”
“Jungkook,” you call him, grasping his hand with both of yours tightly, sending him a reassuring smile. “We’ve already had this argument, but we’re not meant to be apart. Our story, I know it’s not ideal, but it’s still ours. We get to relive our story as much as we want. Even if it means we start over, even if it means suffering the same fate and pain over and over again, none of it overpowers the gift of getting to love each other.” You speak passionately, searching his eyes deeply.
“We get to fall in love so many times, and getting to love you is the best thing I’ll ever do. So it’s okay, it’s okay if we’re destined to be ripped away from each other, because there is something so powerful about being able to find our way back, to fight for our love and what we have. I don’t care if I’m reborn several times over, I don’t care if we suffer in each lifetime, because it just means our love transcends that—it transcends space and time and even the workings of the universe. It means we’re unbreakable, and if that’s the case then I’ll gladly keep living in an endless loop of punishment, Jungkook, just to fall in love with you.”
Jungkook’s awestruck, his face etched with shock before he softens with realization, eyes glistening with emotion. “Do you mean that, angel?”
“Of course I do,” you laugh despite your tears. “You’re worth the cycle of punishment, you’re worth that and so much more; and if I get to spend an eternity proving that to you, loving you, then I wouldn’t want anything else.”
Jungkook decreases some of the space between you two, his tone grave. “But your life, Y/N. Your home, your family, your friends… you’ll lose it all.”
“All I need is you, Jungkook.” You assure him, leaning forward so that your foreheads connect, soaking up every ounce of his comforting presence. “Only you, nothing else.”
Jungkook inhales a deep breath as he absorbs this moment, too, intertwining your fingers together. “I’ll get us time,” he swears. “I promise, I’ll get us time in Hell together before anyone finds out you’re even there.”
You smile warmly, nibbling your bottom lip. “Don’t worry; I may be wrong in trusting the devil but I trust you, Jungkook. Any day.”
Jungkook’s grin is utterly gleeful, adoring the way his lip piercing curves along with his mouth. He suddenly holds out his hand, wiggling his littlest finger. “Pinky promise?”
Giggling with wet eyes, you nod, entwining your pinky with his. “Pinky promise.”
Jungkook happily seals the vow, sliding his hand over your cheek and minimizing the space between your faces, teasing you with a hot breath. You wait for his kiss, diving in for it. Jungkook touches your lips together for a faint second before skimming past, whispering by your ear. “Close your eyes, angel.”
And in that moment, you clear your heart and your mind, completely handing over yourself to Jungkook, because nothing would ever mean more to you than he does. Your life was more than college parties, a plain-jane job and the holidays now; your life was Jungkook and the irrevocable bond you shared with him.
Your story was a symbol of something profound, something so invincible and everlasting, even time and space couldn’t destroy it.
So, fluttering your eyes shut, you clutched Jungkook’s hands for dear life, feeling a warm light envelope you before you felt the gentlest, most delicate peck to your lips by his own. Smiling, you disappeared into oblivion before you could return the kiss.
Jungkook watches the hum-drum of boring human life in his unnecessarily large throne room, tapping his foot in an agitated rhythm. The sound echoes throughout his dark chamber of sin, his cheek resting in his palm with his legs spread out in his royal seat.
A knock to his door disrupts his regular flow, annoyingly sighing. “Whoever the hell that is, it better be something good.”
Upon his words, Jungkook’s shocked to hear his doors open, scoffing at whatever form of gall his visitor dares to possess. Jungkook rises from his seat, turning around to reprimand the low-life, until his expression is caught with immediate surprise, his eyes completely blown out.
“I think I’m much better than just something good, demon.”
Jungkook scoffs again, but this time with no malice. He tongues the inside of his cheek, feeling an insurmountable amount of pride and joy flood his chest. An insatiable wave of lust washes upon him seeing the sinful dress and gorgeous face in his doorway, eyes too playful for their own good.
“Well well well,” He smirks, perching his elbow on his throne, completely, and utterly taken by you. “If it isn’t my one and only angel.”
maybe i do: “one week without sex”
➵ summary: when a small, petty argument spirals out of control, you and your husband settle on one solution to the problem; betting who can last the longest without sex. it won’t be easy, but you and taehyung are equally determined to win, and you’ll both stop at nothing to secure your victories—even if it means playing dirty.
↳ part of the maybe i do series!
this drabble can be read as a stand alone, but it is highly recommended to read the series!
➵ pairing: ceo!taehyung x wife!reader
➵ genre: arranged marriage!au, established relationship!au, smut, minor angst, fluff
➵ rating: 18+
➵ word count: 20k
➵ warnings: swearing, alcohol consumption (both parties are able to consent), constant sexual teasing, high-class gang cameo!!, getting caught in the act 👀, explicit sexual content, dirty talk, D/s relationship, dom!tae, sub!reader, big dicc!tae, heavy making out, breast fondling, choking, finger sucking, male and female masturbation, sexting/phone sex, use of a sex toy (vibrator), exhibitionism + voyeurism (with each other), drunk sex, rough, needy sex, riding, hitting it from the back, impregnation kink, creampie <3
➵ a/n: and here it is!! again please excuse the ridiculous word count, i’m attempting to work through writing a sequel for the maybe i do series, so these “drabbles” are just me experimenting with the content! i’ll provide more details when I can heheh <33 thank you endlessly to my wife @amourtae for beta-ing!!! i hope you enjoy and your feedback is always appreciated!
“You’re gonna be late, honey, be quick.”
“Who cares? I am not leaving you.”
Taehyung’s hips bang against yours as he delivers precise, quick thrusts. The slapping sound of skin resounds erotically inside his office, even more so your laboured, hot breaths.
“You need… to go faster, baby.” You manage to pant, fingers weaving through his thick, fluffy locks, rutting your perky breasts against his dress shirt. Taehyung’s desparate digits dig into your thighs as he plunges his cock inside you, each time burrowing further into your velvety, pulsing sex.
Deep, satisfied grunts leave Taehyung’s mouth just by yours, obsessed with your little breaths. He dips down and kisses you, long and deep. Your ass practically bounces backwards across his office desk when he accelerates the speed of his thrusts, propelling into your pussy as he devours your mouth.
“Tae... the meeting...”
“I’m trying to make a baby with my wife,” Taehyung ruggedly breathes, lips hot on yours. “A meeting can wait.”
“You’re already-ngh, fifteen minutes late, ba-by.” You warn him, clutching around his neck for dear life as his cock slams inside you, ceaselessly throbbing.
How you ended up in this erotic situation? You didn’t expect what Taehyung labelled a quickie to morph into a scene straight out of porn—your outfit for today apparently tempted your husband beyond his control.
His salacious eyes told you a carnal tale once you visited him for a minor report check, and now your boobs lasciviously jostle against him, spilling out of your top he stripped open, your panties carelessly flung across his chair.
Taehyung spent his precious, limited window of time before his meeting happily licking and sucking your nipples, dirty-talking you about the hot milf you’ll become once you’re carrying your child; and now his thick length is lodged inside you, fucking into your stomach.
“Tae...” you sigh, nails scratching down the back of his strong neck. His pillowy lips envelope your neck, leaving addicting kisses down your throat—your pussy violently pulses.
“Fuck, you make me so hard.” He growls against your heated skin, his hands spreading your thighs to clutch them tighter, something feral possessing him. He leans back to his full height, prying you wide open to suddenly hammer into your tight cunt.
High-pitched moans ceaselessly tumble out of you, soon met by Taehyung’s animalistic groans, praising you and your goddess-like pussy. “Shit, Princess, I swear I’m addicted to you.” He breathes, licking the bite marks he leaves along your pulse point. “Fucking best pussy in the world.”
Your hand haphazardly reaches behind you, crumpling some of his paperwork as your sex devours his mighty thrusts, bracing for impact. Your lewd noises are endless, watching the way his dick disappears inside you, soon met by Taehyung’s fiery kiss.
You reciprocate it, moving your mouth in sync with his until you scrounge up a semblance of common sense. “Baby... your meeting...ah!”
“Fuck them, fuck the meeting.” Taehyung tosses aside all care to plough into your dripping sex. Your pussy juices incessantly flow out of you, fucked to your absolute limit as he feeds your impending orgasm.
His lips are hot and heavy, only disconnecting to lean against your forehead, his breaths utterly delirious. “Come for me, Y/N.” He pants, pushing your legs back to plunge himself deeper. “Wanna hear my pretty wife come.” He grunts, burrowing his thick, spasming flesh so deep inside you, he caresses your cervix—you instantly cry out.
“C’mon, Princess,” Taehyung encourages by your lips. “Soak my dick, baby; let me feel it.”
He only drives you towards the edge faster, crashing his lips against yours for a heated makeout session. You feel a tight knot bundling inside the bottom of your stomach, begging for release.
“Fuck me, oh my god!”
“Fuck, fuck!” He curses loudly, biting your bottom lip as he’s forced to slow down. “I’m gonna fucking explode, I can’t last.”
“Me neither.” You whimper like a pathetic whore, sighing with paradisiacal relief—he just hit every spot inside you.
Relishing in your spongy walls, Taehyung renews his rhymically fast pace that harmonizes your pornographic moans, growing louder, and louder, and louder as your orgasm unravels—
“Mr. Ki–oh dear God!”
Taehyung comes to an abrupt stop that sucks the soul out of you, his eyes widening in horror. You glance back to share his line of sight—your jaw simultaneously drops to the center of the Earth.
“Oh my fuck—Mrs. Lee!!” You screech, finding her shielding her eyes as she hides behind Taehyung’s office door. Irreversible embarrassment colours your system, Taehyung protectively concealing your naked front against his chest.
“Mrs. Lee, shit, why didn’t you call me?” He harshly questions.
“I-I tried to Mr. Kim, but you didn’t pick up.” The secretary nervously responds. “The board members are becoming impatient, sir, they instructed me to come find you.”
Taehyung lets out the most irritated sigh in his life. He reluctantly draws out of your sex once he glimpses at the door, ensuring Mrs. Lee was out of sight. Locating your blazer, he hands it to you, sympathy riddling his features once he sees the shame on your face, helping you shield your exposed boobs.
“Can’t you at least knock? Didn’t that goddamn occur to you?” Taehyung reprimands her, his tone laced with frustration as you remain mortified, near tears because of the embarrassment.
“I tried, Mr. Kim, though I don’t—” she hesitates behind the door. “I don’t believe you heard me.”
Grinding his teeth, Taehyung works himself back into his boxers, tugging up his pants to re-clasp his belt. “Jesus Christ, Mrs. Lee, tell the members I’ll be there in five. And don’t ever breathe a word of this to anyone—you didn’t see anything.” He rigidly demands, soon listening to his secretary’s incessant apologies.
“I sincerely apologize, Mr. Kim. I’ll let them know immediately and I won’t tell a soul.” The poor lady sounds as though she’s on the verge of sobbing, shutting the door quickly before she vanishes.
Taehyung huffs out angrily, shrugging his coat back on. His soft hand cradles your face, incredibly attentive. “Are you alright, Princess?”
“God, Taehyung, that was so embarrassing!” You screech, shoving your blazer against your naked front before hopping off his desk. “You really couldn’t fucking wait until your meeting was over?”
Taehyung’s eyebrows draw together in confusion, a playful smile tugging his lips. “Princess, it’s alright. It’s actually kind of funny that she caught us.”
Disgusted, you narrow your eyes at him. “Fuck off, Tae, this isn’t funny! That was utterly embarrassing.”
“Baby, this is going to be something we’ll laugh about together, don’t worry.” Taehyung attempts to lighten your mood, chuckling as he fixes his tie.
You’re filled with crippling humiliation, however, storming away from him. You’re unable to share his light-heartedness—you told Taehyung he was going to be late for his meeting, and yet he didn’t listen to you. “Don’t tell me not to worry, asshole, I told you you were late for this meeting and you just didn’t listen.” You begin searching for your panties he’d slung somewhere, utterly annoyed. “Now I’ve just been completely humiliated. I don’t think I can look Mrs. Lee in the eye again!”
Sighing, Taehyung perches his hands on his hips. “Baby, it’s fine. It was just Mrs. Lee—I’m sure she hears us all the time whenever we have sex in my office.” He waves off. “I’m just glad it wasn’t a man; I would’ve had to kill him, otherwise.”
Mortified, you snap an irritated look at him, tightly clutching your bare chest. “That is not the same as her finding you balls deep inside me, it doesn’t matter who found us. Why couldn’t you just listen to me when I said we could have sex after your meeting? We could’ve entirely avoided that.”
Taehyung softens at your anger, gesturing for you to be at ease. “Princess, people have sex all the time, and people walk in on people having sex all the time. It’s normal, you’ll be fine.”
Fed up with him, you exhale a scoff. Locating your panties on his chair, you shimmy them on. “God, you’re so irritating sometimes. I don’t want anyone walking in on us having sex, Taehyung. I don’t want anybody fucking seeing that, especially me.”
Rubbing his temple, Taehyung notices the frailty of your vulnerable tone paired with your glistening eyes, searching for a solution. He lets out a long, deep sigh, watching you tug your bra back over your breasts. “Baby, I’m sure Mrs. Lee knows what sex is and how much of it we have—pretty much everyone does. Not to mention everyone also knows we’re trying to get pregnant, and it’s normal for conceiving couples to constantly have sex, what’s your deal?”
You can’t believe his audacity right now, shaking your head. He doesn’t understand that you feel uncomfortable being seen like that, irrevocable shame spreading across your entire system—you tightly clutch your body to hide it. “You just can’t go a goddamn day without getting your dick wet, isn’t that it? You really couldn’t wait the half an hour your meeting would’ve taken before you blew your load inside me? Was it really that difficult?”
Taehyung’s face immediately twists with disgust. “What the fuck? Don’t make it sound like that; I just wanted to make love to my gorgeous wife so we can start a family, why are you getting mad at me?”
“Because you really can’t fucking keep it in your pants!” You blow up, tugging your dress pants back up your legs, soon buttoning your blouse. “And now I’m left with an uncomfortable, mortifying memory because of you!”
“What? You literally went along with it, you can’t keep it in your pants, either!” Taehyung argues back, accusingly pointing a finger.
“God, you know what? I bet you can’t even go a day without us having sex.” You challenge him, your husband scoffing behind his desk.
“You’re talking to me as if I don’t know self-control?” He barks. “You’re horny all the time! I bet you can’t go two days without my dick.”
Agitated by his boyish attitude, you childishly counter him. “Oh yeah? I bet you can’t go three days without my pussy!”
“I bet you can’t go four days!”
“Ugh!” You frustratingly grunt, tucking your blazer over your arm.
You shove your husband aside to retrieve the work you originally came with. Your eyes bore into his, ploughing your finger into his broad chest. “A week, I bet you can’t go an entire week without sex, you sex beast!”
“Oh yeah? Let’s see how long you last before you’re craving our sex again—you wouldn’t last three days with your libido, woman!” Taehyung dramatically gesticulates, clearly as wound up as you.
“Says my idiot husband who comes in me at least twice a day, your libido won’t last either!” You challenge him before vexedly stomping away, grabbing his office door’s handle.
“Are you challenging me, Mrs. Kim?” Taehyung leans his delectable hands on the surface of his desk, narrowing his eyes from across the room. If you weren’t so used to your husband’s fierce, sexy eyes, you would’ve folded right then. “Because I assure you, I haven’t lost a day in my life, and I don’t plan on starting now.”
Scoffing at his use of his CEO voice, you strengthen your own. “Wrong, you’re getting taken down, Mr. Kim, and it’ll be by your dear wife.” You condescendingly smile.
He huffs, folding his arms over his chest as you pry open his door, calling out to you. “Then my dear wife doesn’t know what she’s getting herself into, she’s going to lose!”
Not giving a fuck anymore, you power-walk out of his office. “You’re late for your meeting, Kim!” You holler, sending him a gracious middle finger before pointedly slamming the door shut.
“Yes, I need you to authorize the transaction, Jimin.” Taehyung fixes his Gucci glasses on his face, scribbling away on his Surface. “He’s an important associate of mine, he came all the way from Hong Kong. I want him in a nice room for the weekend.”
Later that evening, you attempt to drown out Taehyung’s business talk. You were currently occupying your swing on your backyard’s porch, indulging in some light reading to at least keep your distance from your infuriating husband.
But alas, you live in the same house as him, so ignoring him was a lost cause.
You’re seriously unsure why Taehyung decided to conduct his business after hours downstairs, even that, in the entertainment area. His constant chatter was distracting you from reading, having already sent him death glares from outside on multiple occasions, only for him to shoot a mocking look back.
He usually used the library or his study for work, though it seems he didn’t intend to exactly work, either. He’s dressed in his home clothes; a loose white, Celine t-shirt with baggy, black shorts. He only ever used his glasses whenever he was diligently reading—perhaps he originally intended on scrolling through some news on his Surface.
“Huh? I don’t know, I’m a little stressed, I guess.” He suddenly replies; Jimin being the sweetheart he is most likely asked him how he’s doing.
“Yeah, he’s a fucking tycoon in Hong Kong, I’m seriously hoping he takes up my proposal.” Taehyung complains. “It’s stressing me out; I need to be able to distribute in Hong Kong and I’ve heard he’s not big on involving himself with the Korean market.”
Taehyung continues humming in acknowledgement or nodding, before his eyes suddenly shift in your direction. You scramble once he catches you watching him—his face suddenly scrunches into one of scrutiny. “I don’t know, Jimin, usually my wonderful wife helps me out with my stress, but she’s being an annoying brat right now.”
Scoffing, you shake your head with disbelief, staring daggers at him through the ajar doors.
“Fighting? Pft, no way. We totally aren’t fighting, not when she uselessly yells at me in my own office when I did nothing wrong.”
Done with his crap, you slam your book shut, stomping inside the house. “You liar! You fucking deserved it, Kim!”
“I didn’t deserve shit!” Taehyung barks back, not even minding that he’s on call. “How’d you feel after that denied orgasm today, huh? Sure you’re not going to rub one out without me right now?”
Exclaiming with disbelief, you threaten to throw your book at him. “You-! Have fun coming into some fucking tissues instead of my cunt, asshole!”
That’s the last thing you get out before thrashing your feet up the stairs, listening to Taehyung yell a ‘whatever!’ as you whack your bedroom door shut.
The next morning, you groggily awake in bed, despising the AM. You were glad you’d fallen asleep before Taehyung crawled into bed last night; he must’ve stayed up late. Craning your neck over your shoulder, you find him fast asleep next to you.
He’s laying on his side; his left hand tucked underneath his bread-like cheek, his right loosely cradling your bare waist. It seems he got hot during the night—the blanket was completely kicked off his feet.
Remembering that you’re pissed at him, you remove his arm—it didn’t matter how cute he looked when he slept, or that he cuddled you to fall asleep, or that he was right; your denied orgasm yesterday left the sight of his bare body igniting heat between your legs.
Clearing your throat, you make your way towards your bathroom to start your day, forcing yourself to ignore the invasive memory of sucking Taehyung off in the shower two days ago.
Finishing up, you carelessly waltz out to find your sleepy husband half-awake in bed, scrolling through his phone. Your gazes meet when he glances up—you dab your damp face with a towel.
“You’re up early.” He flatly notes, returning to his phone.
“I fell asleep early last night, genius.”
He sighs upon hearing your attitude, raking a hand through his beautiful head of hair. “Are you coming to work with me today? Or should I call Mr. Kang to drive you?”
Lightly scoffing, you toss your towel in your hamper. “I can drive myself. It’s the 21st century, Taehyung.”
He decides it’s too early for your snarky comebacks, waving you off. “Yeah, yeah.” He casts the duvet off himself, rubbing his sleep-laden eyes.
You haughtily step towards your walk-in closet, determined to ignore his presence for the rest of the day, before Taehyung suddenly stops by the bathroom. He scratches the back of his neck, awkwardly shuffling his feet—he seems to be contemplating something. “Um… Princess, listen.”
He’s still willingly calling you princess? He usually doesn’t when he’s pissed at you. That puts a small smile on your face, schooling it when you tip your chin in his direction. “What?”
“I did some thinking about… yesterday.” He begins with a wince, choosing his words carefully. “I realized I was insensitive to laugh about what happened, or suggest that you should laugh too. I should've acknowledged that you felt uncomfortable being seen intimately or naked like that, regardless of who saw us.” He admits. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to undermine your feelings.”
Surprised by his apology, you stare at him wide-eyed, speechless. Taehyung merely stands with puffed cheeks, incredibly displaced. He awkwardly blows out air once he discerns you won’t say anything. “Right, I’m gonna wash up.”
He begins stepping towards the bathroom until you stop him. “Taehyung, wait.”
He swivels around, his sweet, coffee brown eyes meeting yours.
“Th-thank you.” You swallow, awkward about this too. Taehyung has always been an aware, accountable man able to read between the lines, a trait of his you thanked the heavens for. He never apologizes in the midst of a fight, however. He always adored proving you wrong, currently leaving your jaw figuratively attached to the floor.
“No problem.” He nods, before disappearing into your shared bathroom.
You’re left extremely conflicted. On one hand, maybe you should end whatever childish war you both started; he’s already acknowledged his mistake and was genine about it. One the other, you’re curious as to how Taehyung would fare without your sex; would he be able to last like he says?
Curious, you decide on ruffling his feathers today, nibbling on a mischievous smile. You spin around to skip towards your walk-in closet, only cunningness in mind.
Your fingers coquettishly graze the ‘scandalous’ section of your wardrobe.
You knock against Taehyung’s office door before propping it open, peeking inside. Taehyung hasn’t noticed your presence yet, too absorbed in his work. You find him standing as he diligently reads papers, grazing his perfect, slender fingers across the sheets. He appears strikingly handsome, thin glasses adorning his face, his rolled up dress shirt sleeves deliciously showcasing his biceps.
“If you’re someone that isn’t my wife, please leave and speak to my secretary.” His caramel-smooth, though commanding voice sparks something inside you, swallowing it away. A smirk soon forms on your face, shutting the door.
“Thankfully it is your wife, Mr. Kim.”
He lifts his gaze to acknowledge you, though upon doing so, his eyes widen in shock. He observes you in your entirety, blinking multiple times before he finds your line of sight—his irises harden with seriousness. “What are you wearing?”
Tipping your chin, you fold your arms over your breasts, shifting your weight onto one leg. “What do you mean?”
Your condescending tone causes Taehyung’s eyes to narrow, scrutinizing you. “I asked; what the fuck are you wearing?”
Scoffing at his tone, you tilt your head, attitude laced in your comeback. “Maybe you should ask me nicely, Mr. Kim.”
Taehyung swallows, watching his Adam’s apple bob before he wets his lips. He lifts one of his gorgeous hands to fix his glasses, clearing his throat. “I’m sorry. What are you wearing, Jagiya?” He voices much more politely, and you send him an accomplished smile.
“I’m just wearing one of my regular office outfits.”
“But why are you wearing one entirely in ruby red?” He challenges, watching his eyes intending to be reprimanding, but they have the slightest hint of lust. He’s not going to survive this one, at all.
“What’s the matter with me wearing an all-red outfit?” You mount a hand on your hip, keeping his eyes hostage.
Your husband scoffs. His digits clutch his mouth, tracing the outline of his luscious lips until he cradles his masculine, impeccably-carved chin. “You know what the matter is.”
Feeling playful, you decide to push his buttons. Your walk is alluring as you make your way towards Taehyung’s desk, your each step slow, purposeful. You challenge his fierce eyes with your tempting ones, inviting him into your trap. Reaching his desk, you confidently strut in front of him, allowing him to catch a view of your shapely curves in your form-fitting outfit.
All you were really wearing was a tight pencil skirt with a short peplum top. The neckline only cut low enough that the cleavage was tasteful. What had to be ruining Taehyung was the colour; he adores red on you, and can never keep his hands to himself whenever you wear it—not to mention when you pair it with a skirt so tight your ass looks biteable, and ruby-coloured lips to match.
You lean a hand on his desk as you peer up at him; you swear it was like you were facing the devil.
“Actually, I don’t know, Mr. Kim.” You play dumb, your innocent eyes and sweet tone causing Taehyung to flex his jaw, but he remains stoic, arms folded with a schooled face.
Taehyung tongues the inside of his cheek, examining you up and down. “Are those the red diamond earrings I gave you in Rome?”
Tilting your head, you step closer to him. “Yes.”
“You do know red diamonds cost a million dollars per carat, right?” Taehyung reminds you—you take another step closer.
“And the earrings I gave you have 6 carats worth of red diamonds?”
“So you’re wearing my $6 million earrings to work?” He cocks a brow, scrutinizing you. “Why in god’s name are you wearing them?”
Nibbling your velvety, red lip, you nonchalantly shrug, adopting his sense of unbotheredness. “No reason.”
Taehyung merely sighs; he knows you’re doing this to fuck with him. He stalks towards his office chair and plops down, tucking both his hands behind his head as he kicks his feet up on his desk, eyeing you with his sexy, dark eyes. “Well, is our business done here?” He condescendingly questions. “Or do you need to stand there and prove your point longer?”
Shocked by his audacity, you laugh through your scoff. You swat his feet off the desk, his legs collapsing to the floor as you promiscuously seat yourself where they were. You lean your hands back, crossing your legs to seductively present yourself—your husband angrily glares at you.
“Actually, our business isn’t done.” You snark. “I still need to prove you’re a sex-hungry beast, which shouldn’t take more than…” You purposefully peek at the watch on your wrist. “What? 3 minutes? Before you need to get your dick wet?”
Taehyung dips his head with a sigh, leaning his elbows on his manspread knees. “Are you really still on about that?”
“Yes, I am.” You bite back. “Especially after you decided to wage a war you knew you’d never win, and accuse me of being the loser.”
Taehyung shakes his head, bitterly chuckling. “You’re really fucking funny if you think I’m the one who started this; it was literally you, babe.”
“Awh, can Taehyungie not step up to the challenege?” You overly pout. “Is he afraid of being a sore loser?”
Taehyung massages his temple, puffing air through his lips. “My god, this woman of mine is impossible.”
Without warning, you suddenly advance towards him, hands shackling onto the armrests of his chair. He lets out a soft exhale when you bring your lips just before his, piercing his eyes with a carnal look of lust. “And you’re incredibly sexy, Mr. Kim.”
Taehyung shifts his hips in his seat, the column of his throat bobbing as he stares you down, but his eyes reveal his failing composure. “This has to be against the rules.”
Your hands slide over Taehyung’s delicious thighs, slowly stroking him. His lap twitches in response, subduing the sound he almost lets out.
“What rules?” You coo.
Taehyung squeezes his eyes shut when you move an inch towards his crotch, laughing through his struggle. “This is unfair, baby. You’re evil.”
“Me? Evil? Never.” You purr with a saccharine sweet tone, letting your hands skim closer to his cock. Taehyung exhales harshly as he challenges you with his eyes, flaring with anger. But, you only draw closer, enough that your lips are separated by a mere hair’s length. “I’m just making sure you know who's going to win, loverboy.”
You quickly peck his lips, trailing a finger along the side of his jaw, your voice seductive as ever. “And by the way, I’m wearing your favourite red set underneath.”
Taehyung nearly chokes as you draw away from him, swaying your hips as you take your leave. Your husband storms behind his desk, hearing him rapidly rise from his chair with his comedic accusations. “You’re evil, you’re evil I tell you!”
Maniacally giggling, you continue your walk out, listening to your husband throw a fit. “How can you wear those lace garters knowing I can’t rip them off? You witch!”
You hide your innocent chuckle behind your hand, daring to turn and provide him with a small tease of what you’re wearing underneath. Once the said lace garters meet your husband’s gaze, his jaw drops—he’s even livelier than before.
“Wait until you’re home, Kim Y/N!” He valiantly shouts. “You’re not going to win!”
“Ah fuck,” you curse, nearly knocking into the wall. You lazily remove your shoes in the foyer, your system a bit wonky after some drinks with your co-workers tonight. You toss the contraptions aside, wearily checking your bag for your phone.
“Honey, I’m home!!” You call out, not certain when Taehyung arrived home. You’d decided to indulge in a night out to avoid coming home to him today; you knew you’d ruffled his feathers a little too much, and you were unsure how your husband would retaliate.
Hearing silence, you groan, contemplating that he’s either not home, or most likely asleep. You welcome that possibility, tuckered out yourself. Sluggishly stalking up the stairs, you paddle towards your bedroom door with a yawn, seriously awaiting some well-needed shut-eye.
Your senses are currently haywire, so you’re unable to hear or see much, which makes the next minutes of your life completely unforeseen. When you mindlessly open the door of your bedroom, your jaw drops to the center of the Earth, eyes nearly falling out of their sockets.
You find your husband openly masturbating in bed.
Now that you focus, the sound of slapping skin and laboured groans should’ve clued you into his salacious activities, but you’re clearly too dense. “Taehyung, what the fuck?”
Your voice causes Taehyung to open his eyes, landing on you as he breathes unevenly. Sweat glistened upon his honey-coloured skin, his pillowy lips hung open, chest rapidly inflating and deflating.
What surprises you the most is Taehyung doesn’t even appear the slightest bit embarrassed, no, your husband has the smuggest smirk plastered on his handsome face. He doesn’t stop his movements, either, rather slowly strokes his cock, almost as though he were teasing you, inviting you to join his raunchy shenanigans.
And fuck, did the alcohol in your system kill your defence mechanisms, pussy pulsing at the sight of his throbbing, hard, thick flesh in his palm.
“Welcome home, babe.” Your scheming husband smiles, continuing to beat his goddamn meat, completely unbothered by your presence—you feel like a fuse short-circuiting. “K-Kim Taehyung, I asked you a question!”
“What am I doing?” He condescendly repeats. “I’m doing what you should be doing.”
You huff when Taehyung dares letting out a deep, mellow groan, fucking into his fist faster, his stomach muscles contracting as he no doubt reaches his high. You wish you could tear your eyes away, but the sight of his cock makes your mouth water, your lady bits tingling.
How much you want to run over and spear yourself on his dick.
Snapping out of your trance, you stand your ground. “Taehyung, my loving, kind, dear husband, may you please put your cock away?”
Infuriated, you grind your teeth. “Because… Because this is unfair! You can’t just have your dick out like this!”
“Why not? You’re the same person who literally wore the sexiest outfit possible to work and made me want to rail you over my desk.”
Smacking your hand to your forehead, you attempt to calm down, searching for a solution—funny how he still hasn’t stopped masturbating, weakening your guard. “Taehyung, this is cruel. You can’t be touching yourself in front of me, there has to be rules in this war. Every war has rules!”
“Says the woman who literally flashed me her underwear and said ‘what rules?’.” Taehyung retorts, returning to his regular program. He suddenly squeezes the head of his meat that elicits a deep, masculine moan from him; the sound literally hardens your nipples, dampening your panties.
“Ugh! You’re the worst, the worst!” You shout, throwing your hands up in the air.
Taehyung dips his head back with a laugh, sending you the most shit-eating grin in the world. “All you have to do to end your suffering is come here and sit on this dick, baby. That’s all it takes.”
His words stir something hot inside you, biting down on your teeth to subdue your horniness—you’re quite literally seconds away from throwing away your pride and straddling him. But, you then realize it’s what he wants; your husband is incredibly clever at gaining his way, and you won’t let him win.
“Fuck you, if you wanna play dirty, then that’s how we’re playing.” You point a scolding finger at him, met by your husband’s amused expression, tonguing the inside of his cheek.
“We already play pretty dirty, babe.”
Wanting to throttle the irritatingly gorgeous man, you huff out with annoyance and flash him a middle finger before disappearing into your bathroom, slamming the door shut.
“You better not have your cock out by the time I’m out of here, asshole!”
You watch Taehyung get ready for the day with your arms folded over your naked breasts, legs kicked up on the bed with an irked expression. You’d washed up for the morning, but after Taehyung’s little stunt last night, you’re too pissed at him to continue your day, watching the infuriating man hum along to a useless tune as he knots his tie in the mirror.
He steals a glance at you through his reflection; you avert your eyes, incessantly wiggling your foot.
“Are you not coming to work, Jagiya?” He asks with a purposefully sweet tone.
Smacking your lips, you remove the clip from your hair, letting your strands loose and comfortably reclining in bed. “No.”
Humming in acknowledgement, Taehyung completes his tie. He tosses on his Louis Vuitton suit jacket next, adjusting the buttons of his sleeves. “Any particular reason for your absence, Mrs. Kim?”
You pop an eye open, shooting him a scrutinizing look. “My company‘s asshole CEO.”
Taehyung tongues the inside of his cheek, amusedly smirking. He reaches out for his laptop case, glimpsing at himself one last time in the mirror before he approaches you.
“Well, your asshole CEO’s off, then.” He jests, landing a warm palm on your shoulder to kiss your cheek. The domestic gesture makes your heart flutter, attempting to remain unphased when his soft lips press against your skin. “Eat a good breakfast and lunch before I’m home, pretty girl.” He reminds you as he smooths your hair.
When he pulls away to leave, your hand grapples onto his wrist, stopping him. “Wait.”
He faces you, eyebrows raised in anticipation. You purse your lips together and shuffle over to him, tugging him closer to you. You spring up onto your knees, now levelled with his chest—your hands curl around his tie.
You silently fix the loose knotting, tidying it up. He observes you with a schooled face, unevenly swallowing. Your smaller hands smooth over his impeccable suit once you’re finished, sliding towards his biceps to hold them.
You lift your eyes to meet Taehyung’s coffee brown irises, observing him. Taehyung peers back at you, caught in a silent, magnetic gaze with one another. You flit towards his wide, pillowy lips, tempted by their perfect shape, and you lean forward to softly kiss him.
Taehyung’s eyebrows climb at the gesture, confused when you pull away. You cock a brow in response, tone haughty. “What? I can’t kiss my husband before he goes to work?”
Suppressing a smile, Taehyung lightly scoffs, wrapping an arm around your naked torso and pressing his lips to yours. You feed into his kiss, an arm clinging to his neck as the other splays across his jaw. You kiss him harder, driven by Taehyung squishing your bare boobs against his tailored suit.
He lightly groans when your tongue teases the seam on his mouth; he’s quick to open up. His tongue slips inside you, licking exploratively as you unabashedly make out with him, Taehyung’s movements growing hotter by the second. Your husband suddenly breaks away, a smirk plastered on his face. “Feels like we haven’t kissed in ages.”
You laugh through your nose. “It’s only been two days, Taehyung.”
“Two days too long.”
Suddenly, Taehyung tosses aside his laptop case and cradles your figure in his arms, tackling you onto your bed. You yelp hitting the sheets, the sound muffled once Taehyung crashes his lips onto yours.
He manuevers his mouth languidly but with a sense of roughness—desire. His long fingers slide into a hand of yours as the other curls around your neck, cupping your jaw between his thumb and index finger. He holds your face in place, kissing you hard and deep as he effortlessly takes control of your body—you’ve never felt anything more powerful.
His hand around your throat slowly sinks past your collarbones, sliding down until your naked breast is within his palm. He squeezes you, slowly kneading the flesh as he simultaneously moves his body in the motion of thrusts—you whimper pathetically throughout the godly pleasure.
Taehyung lets out a deep, shaky groan when his hardening cock nudges your pussy folds, tightening the grasp around your breast. He pinches your nipple all of a sudden, moaning into his mouth.
You’re seconds from biting his supple lower lip until you both hear a rhythmic buzzing.
Taehyung pops off your mouth, cursing. “Fuck.”
He fishes for his phone in the pocket of his dress pants, glimpsing at the caller—he accepts the call with an eye roll.
“Hello? Yeah, I’m on my way.” He curtly informs, focusing on his conversation while you admire his slightly swollen, wide lips, and his stupidly handsome face. Even if you’re still pissed at him, it doesn’t make him any less stunning.
“Oh, we got the report this morning? Then yes, I’ll be holding a meeting first thing in the morning. Mhm. Yup, right before the conference.” Taehyung continues for about a minute or so before he ends the call amicably, returning to you.
“Alright, I have to go.” Taehyung proclaims with a sigh, tucking his phone away as he locates his laptop. Once he nabs it, he sends you a harsh look, lips scornfully pressed together. “And new rule: no kissing.” He tuts with a finger, crawling off your body and soon, your bed. “Only very quick pecks.”
You bitterly scoff, rising from the mattress. “Not my fault you can’t control yourself, loverboy.”
Taehyung playfully narrows his eyes at you as he fixes his suit. He approaches you to cradle your shoulder again, but instead kisses your forehead, long and affectionate. He draws away to gaze into your eyes, lifting your chin with a curl of his finger. “I’ll be going.”
He pecks your plushy petals before stepping away, playfully tapping your underboob. “Wear a shirt of mine if you get cold.”
You grumpily pout at him when he sends you a show-stopping grin—you can’t stand that he’s so perfect sometimes. You watch him disappear through the door, plopping down into your sheets with a frustrated huff.
“Ugh, look at him.”
You kiss your teeth as you lay flat on your stomach, legs flailing in the air while watching on your laptop. It’s the live stream of Taehyung’s official announcement regarding his new subsidiary for learning centers. You’d completely forgotten that was today, though gladly your presence wasn’t needed for it.
You dreamily sigh as you watch your husband confidently speak, pouting with your cheeks in your palms. Why did he have to be so good-looking? It’s a genuine question; you can imagine the amount of people currently fawning over him.
You, on the other hand, are semi-pissed. Not only did he have to look jaw-droppingly gorgeous, but being without his touch for two days now has left you squirming more than usual. Your makeout session didn’t help, either—you’d literally gushed buckets of cum by the time he left you laying on your bed.
Frustrated, you groan grievously before smacking your laptop shut—if you ogle at him any longer, you’ll go insane. Anytime you see Taehyung being the ever-so composed, intimidating, professional CEO at work, your pussy never keeps quiet.
Any time you watch him type away at his laptop or scribble across papers, your mind shifts towards those same hands shoving his digits inside you. Any time he licks, bites or touches his lips, all you consider is how he drags those same plushy petals along every part of your body, worshiping you.
The worst is seeing his concentrated, gorgeous face—if only people knew how many times you’ve seen that same handsome face wedged between your legs, lapping at your cunt.
You slap your hands over your flustered face once your hormones begin settling between your legs. The constant ache within your sex is pulsing unavoidably, biting your lip to manage it. It didn’t help that you were still in bed, smelling his intoxicating scent in the sheets.
You kick at them, feeling incredibly horny. His black Louis Vuitton shirt hugging your frame was exacerbating everything, constantly ruminating about how many times he’s fucked you in this shirt.
Now you’re even worse off, bunching up the damn fabric in your hands to find some relief, to channel this throbbing within your pussy elsewhere, but it’s no use. You snake a hand down towards your core, pushing past the band of your underwear. When your fingers caress your sex, you instantly gasp. “Shit, I’m so wet.”
The slick that oozes out of you is shocking; you swear you’ve never once leaked this much essence on your own. How is it possible that Taehyung makes you horny when he’s not even here? He’d have a field day knowing that, especially considering your little squabble at the moment.
Recalling the very thing, your gears start shifting, contemplating a delicious revenge plot. His behaviour yesterday was utterly cruel, stroking his thick length right in front of you knowing you’re unable to do a thing.
The second your fingers slightly move across your slick pussy folds, an idea pops into your head.
Scrambling off your bed, you patter over towards the end of the hall, finding the most entertaining part of your home; your sex room.
You giggle evilly, ready to place your plan into motion until you ram into a hurdle—Taehyung always locks the room. You curse, remembering that he proclaimed it’s to ensure you never venture in by yourself and either a) plan something sneaky behind his back, or b), use it to play with yourself.
Funny how your husband knows you so well; you’re going to violate both rules.
The universe shifts in your favour when you consider your options. You know Mrs. Choi and Seo own a copy of the key since they’re the ones who clean it; sometimes it amazes you how loyal the kind ladies are, they’ve never once judged a damn thing about your kinky sex life.
You kiss your teeth once you consider they’re currently out, so it’s no use. You contemplate where Taehyung could possibly hide his copy of the key. Surely he’s smart enough to personally keep it on him, though has an extra in case one of the housekeepers loses theirs. Pacing the second floor, you constantly rummage through your mind attempting to figure out exactly where he could’ve stashed the copy.
It’s only when your eyes land on your bedroom, do you finally have an ‘ah-hah’ moment.
Your fingers clasp one of the brand new photos Taehyung framed in your bedroom; he’d enlarged your wedding photo to hang above your granite fireplace downstairs, replacing the frame he kept on his night table with a photo of you and him in New Zealand.
You remember him explaining to you why he chose the distinct photo; he described your emotional New Zealand trip as a key moment he realized he’d love you for an eternity. At the time, the sentiment melted your heart considering the pressing situation then, desiring to have a closer look at the photo, but Taehyung had snatched the frame from your grasp, scolding you.
He oddly claimed he didn’t want you to break the frame, and ordered you to never touch it. You’d simply let it go then, but something constantly nagged at you about his behaviour.
Following your hunch, you grasp the frame to carefully open it. Once you lift the back, the smile that graces your face is utterly conniving—he hid the key behind your photo.
It made perfect sense considering it’s out-of-the-box genius, just like your husband, but also someplace Taehyung could easily access, and one he’d also remember.
Shuffling down the hall, you unlock the sex room to scour inside it. You faintly remembered the exact drawer Taehyung kept all the vibrators, letting your fingers brush over various sizes, shapes, and colours of the toys.
Settling on a lilac wand, you snag it with eagerness, quickly shutting the drawer and door before returning to your bedroom.
Leaping onto your bed, you snatch your phone off your night table, clicking on your conversation with Taehyung. You find his messages from two days ago, telling you to visit his office; if only he knew it would lead him to his downfall today.
[11:07 am]: taehyung
Usually, Taehyung never took more than a few minutes to respond to you. Only if he’s urgently tending to something would he inform you he’s busy, though you know his conference ended 10 minutes ago; he’s most likely on his phone, anyway.
You receive a read receipt a minute later, though Taehyung doesn’t text anything. You quirk a brow, tapping over your keyboard again.
[11:09 am]: taehyung
[11:09 am]: hello
Again, the read receipts are there, though his messages remain non-existent. You grow annoyed, wondering if he’s possibly ignoring you—but even if he is, why would he leave the messages open to read?
[11:10 am]: hello husband
[11:10 am]: husbiebun
[11:11 am]: most handsome man in the world
[11:11 am]: man that rocks my world
[11:12 am]: man that owns my pussy
[11:14 am]: taehyung
[11:14 am]: baby
[11:14 am]: answer me
[11:15 am]: i’m going to keep texting you until you respond to me
[11:15 am]: Taehyung
[11:15 am]: Mr. Kim
[11:15 am]: tAEHYUNGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
Husbiebun <3: JESUS CHRIST THIS WOMAN
Husbiebun <3: i was going to message you but had to speak to an executive, I’m back in my office now
Husbiebun <3: what did you need??
Feeling slightly guilty, you shove it away, reclining against your headboard as you toy with your underwear—you feel extremely compelled to tear it off.
[11:15 am]: i’m sorry, i just wanted to talk to you
Husbiebun <3: it’s okay, what did you want to talk about?
Husbiebun <3: are you not feeling well?
Annoyingly endeared by him, you hide your flustered face behind a facade of seriousness.
[11:15 am]: i wanted to facetime, are you free right now?
Husbiebun <3: facetime? sure, i’m not exactly free but i can keep you on while i work
Husbiebun <3: i’ll call you in two minutes, love
Feeling giddy inside, you physically force yourself to school your face—how could he still make you feel butterflies in your stomach when you’re more than a year into your relationship?
You’re still that whipped for him, huh?
Suddenly, Taehyung’s contact name with the precious photo you took of him in front of the Eiffel Tower lights up your screen, swiping to accept.
The call connects, revealing Taehyung in his Gucci glasses, sitting behind his desk as he twiddles with a pen. He waves at you with a kind smile—his gorgeous face brings you instant ease.
He masterfully twirls the pen in his hand as he refocuses on the sheets before him. You can’t exactly see his work—his phone is propped on his desk, though you can tell by the hot furrow in his brow he’s working hard.
How incredibly sexy.
“How’s your day been?” He affectionately queries, busy studying lines.
“Good, I’ve been chilling in our room with my drawing tablet.”
You see him crack a fond smile. “Have you eaten?”
“Yes, I have.”
“Good.” He praises, nibbling his luscious bottom lip. “What did you eat?”
You tap your chin attempting to remember. “I had avocado toast and a mango-pineapple fruit bowl.” You recall, soon having an ‘ah-hah’ moment. “Oh, and Mrs. Choi made me eat grapefruit and oranges this morning; I wonder why.”
“Ah, that’s good.” Taehyung brightens up, swiping his slender fingers over his laptop’s mouse pad, then referring to his sheets. “I asked Mrs. Choi and Seo to start serving you more citrus fruits; vitamin-C is good for getting pregnant.”
Your cheeks instantly flush, impressed by his innate care and initiative—he’s so charming. “Oh, I didn’t know.”
“Mm,” the deep hum of his baritone voice is hypnotizing, nearly melting your insides. “Always eat your fruits, Princess; good girls eat their fruits.”
You fall silent secretly doting on him—sometimes he turns you into a complete pile of mush. Your bashful smile never wipes off your face, unable to contain the fluttering of your heart. By the time Taehyung glimpses at you through the camera, he notices, fondly chuckling. “What did you want to talk about, pretty girl?”
You shyly pout watching him write, toying with the end of your shirt. “Honestly? Nothing much, I just watched your conference and thought about how…” you trail, speaking through protruded lips.
“Hmm?” He mellifluously hums. “What did you think about?”
You twiddle your fingers, stealing glances at his breath-taking side-profile; his beauty was truly carved by the gods. “I thought that you looked really handsome.”
Taehyung’s lips contort with a faint smile, inscribing his impeccable signature on a sheet. “You wanted to call me to tell me I looked handsome?”
“Well, that; and I also considered how many other people probably thought the same thing, and I wanted you away from ogling eyes.” You haughtily explain, crossing your arms.
Taehyung warmly chuckles; you adore the smile that graces his lips. “You’re a certified cutie, you know that?”
Sheepish, you giggle like a schoolgirl, hiding a stupid grin. Taehyung glimpses in your direction at the sound, flipping a page. “I see you decided to wear clothes.”
Flashing a look at your shirt, you narrow your eyes. “Why? You don’t like when I’m naked?”
“I love when you’re naked,” he replies. “I just know you get cold.”
You nearly scoff—Taehyung is sincerely too perfect sometimes. How can he make you feel horny, giddy, and absolutely adored within a matter of mere minutes? All while he’s not even here? It’s as though your anger towards him was dissipating, pissing you off.
Reminded of your original revenge scheme, you lay flat on your stomach, slowly pressing your body into the satin sheets. Kicking your legs up, you carelessly swing them while resting your cheek in your palm, closely watching him through the camera. “What would you have done if I wasn’t wearing clothes…” You voice seductively, biting your lip as you contemplate your next word. “Daddy?”
Taehyung instantly cocks a brow as he pauses. “What did you just say?”
“I just asked what my punishment would be for not wearing clothes right now, daddy.”
Taehyung slowly smacks his lips, lightly laughing before he returns to his work. “I wouldn’t have done anything, honestly.”
“Really?” You voice lilts with a question mark. “Nothing ruffles your feathers about me being home half-naked without you? What if a board member of yours sees you FaceTiming your wife with her boobs out?”
Taehyung snorts, tapping his pen on his paper. “First of all, I only FaceTime or video call you in my office, and nobody comes in here without a scheduled appointment; except you.” He matter-of-factly states. “Second, it’s completely fine if your boobs are out at home; I see them all the time. As long as you’re comfortable, I’m good.”
You ironically pout hearing his answer, heart sinking in your chest. “So you don’t get turned on seeing my boobs anymore?”
Taehyung’s eyes instantly widen, panicking as he turns towards the screen. “No, no, Princess. I love your boobs, I just know you like being braless at home so they’re normal to me, and I wouldn’t punish you for it.”
Hmphing, you puff your cheeks. “Well in that case…” Your hands grip the hem of your shirt, stripping it off. Taehyung steals a glimpse at you, completely normal as he views your braless frame—it’s when you hook onto your panties does he say something.
“Princess, what are you doing?”
“What? You don’t mind if I’m naked at home, don’t you?”
He visibly swallows, clearing his throat. “Aren’t Mrs. Choi and Seo home?”
“They’re grocery-shopping, and they’re women, anyway.”
Taehyung slowly wets his lips, adjusting his glasses on his face. “Be my guest, then.”
Smiling proudly, you slowly, seductively strip off your underwear, entertained by Taehyung glancing towards his screen—he’s attempting to act unbothered, but his bobbing Adam’s Apple gives him away.
You sling your underwear elsewhere, watching Taehyung as he returns to work. Again, you feel yourself gush watching him in his element, driven by your now naked frame. Your hand curls around the purple wand you snatched earlier behind your phone, devising your set-up.
“So… I guess my dommy husband has let up on his punishments then, huh?”
Taehyung’s eyebrows furrow. “What makes you say that?”
“Usually you would've punished me for being naked without you, Mr. Kim.”
Taehyung tongues the inside of his cheek, diligently scanning his work. “As long as you���re not touching yourself, I’m okay with it.” He explains. “My wife can be naked in her own house.”
Your lips curve similarly to the Cheshire Cat, mind brewing with deception. “And what if I was touching myself?”
Taehyung freezes when he flips a page. “Huh?”
“What if I was touching myself, Mr. Kim?”
Cocking a brow at your audacity, Taehyung’s tone is authoritative. “Are we not currently in a war abstaining from sex? Think carefully about what you’re saying, Y/N.”
His harsher timbre makes your body shudder with pleasure, fuelling your neediness. “Well, technically, this isn’t sex, it’s masturbating.” You correct him, finally revealing the vibrator. “And I think I’m gonna do it now.”
Clicking on the toy, Taehyung’s eyes visibly widen, unable to fathom what he sees. “Y/N, where the fuck did you get that? How did you find my key?!”
“I know my dear husband too well.” You snark, biting your lips as you press the vibrating toy to your collarbone—your nipples automatically harden.
Taehyung’s eyes harden watching you, speaking seriously into his screen. “Y/N, you know touching yourself is against one of my rules, stop right the hell now.”
“Awh, does Taehyungie think I’ll actually listen to him?” You chide, slipping the vibrator towards the top of your breast. You instantly hiss, carnal eyes meeting his angry ones. “Hilarious.”
“You goddamn—“ Taehyung swipes a troubled hand over his face, huffing out. “Listen, baby, if this is about yesterday, I’m sorry, okay? Maybe I played too dirty, but I sincerely apologize. You can stop now, alright?”
You scoff, ignoring him and letting your vibrator touch your nipple—you gasp, throwing your head back against the headboard. Taehyung kisses his teeth, his voice more urgent. “Princess, stop this instant—you know my rules about toys and touching yourself. I don’t tolerate it.”
Neglecting his warning, you slide the vibrator lower, moaning as the buzzing sinks through your skin, stirring delicious arousal inside you. Taehyung kisses his teeth when he listens to your erotic sigh.
“Jagiya, listen to me; let’s put the vibrator away and talk, yeah?” Taehyung attempts to negotiate, his tone much sweeter. “Isn’t this whole argument of ours childish in the first place? We’re both grown adults trying to become parents; let’s handle this in a civilized manner, alright?”
Sending him the most deadpan expression ever, you purposefully descend the vibrator towards your slit. Soon, the digits of your unoccupied hand slip through your folds, feeling your dripping cum. You lightly gasp, swishing around your essence with fascination. “I hope you know I’m very wet right now, Taehyung. All because I watched you be my sexy CEO husband—I can’t stop thinking about you.”
You gently moan once you slide through your cunt towards your clit, lightly brushing the pulsing bud. Your husband scoffs on the other end when you shudder, exasperated. “Y/N, listen to me! I swear if you touch yourself right now, I’ll go insane, and your punishment will reflect that.”
“Good, that’s exactly what I want.”
And without further ado, you press the vibrstor to your throbbing clit, erupting a sensual sigh from you. Your body jerks alive, head leaning back into your pillow—Taehyung instantly shouts through your screen.
“Y/N, you brat!”
You listen to him constantly repeat that you’re a stubborn, disobedient bad girl, and the punishment he’ll deliver for your behaviour will destroy you, but you evilly laugh as a response, sweetening your tone. “I’ll be pausing my video now, by the way, so all you’ll be able to hear is my moans as I touch myself, but you can’t see or do anything about it, Mr. Kim.”
You watch his eyes glower with anger, fed up with your audacity. “Kim Y/N, I swear if you—” And Taehyung disappears when you pause your video, finally able to unabashedly play with yourself. With neither of your housekeepers home as well, you lay back, indulging in rubbing the vibrating wand against your pussy.
The moans you let out are pornographic, your skin set alight by the delicious buzzing. It prompts cum to ooze out of you like clockwork, your clit gloriously stimulated as you enjoy the absolute freedom, relishing in yours otherworldly pleasure.
You’re pulled out of your piece of paradise when you hear Taehyung’s menacing voice, evidently done for. “Y/N, I swear to God, if you moan one more time—”
“Ngh,” you sigh, rutting your eager hips against the lilac toy.
“Oh my fucking—Y/N!”
“Fuck,” you let out a high-pitched cry, melting when the buzzing wand sends shockwaves of arousal through you. You dip it lower, teasing your fluttering hole—you instantly spasm with need, desiring something within the walls of your cave. “Ah! Oh my god…”
“Y/N,” Taehyung sounds painfully desparate, practically begging you. “You have to stop, baby, I can’t listen to you moan like that but not see you.”
“Fuck, Taehyung.” You pant, rubbing the wand against your fiery hot cunt. “I get why… you don’t let me use toys.” You swallow harshly, ready to plunge the thick, vibrating toy inside you. “I need this inside me, ugh.”
“No fucking way.” Taehyung vehemently denies. “Don’t you dare put it inside you, do not.”
“But it feels so good, baby.” You sigh, head spinning with delirium. You’ve never been able to indulge in the use of a vibrator, now completely enjoying the free reign you own. Playing with yourself is immensely pleasuring, your eyes hooding over, pussy leaking all over your once impeccable bed sheets. “I’m so wet, Taehyung, fuck.”
“You’re the brattiest little thing I know,” Taehyung grits, before he deeply sighs, quite literally beseeching. “You can’t do this to me, Jagiya. Let me come home, I swear I’ll pleasure you in any way, just wait until I’m home.”
“No, you can’t… get away with yesterday.” You breathe harshly, feeding off the delicious vibrating. You click the toy to increase its speed, crying out when the stronger vibrations spasm through you. “Oh my god, oh my god!”
“Y/N, you did not just increase the speed of that vibrator!”
Ignoring him, your mind explodes with colours, floating in paradise as the buzzing wand delivers waves of pleasure. “Ngh, Taehyung, oh my fucking god!”
“That’s it, that’s it!” Your husband hollers. “I’m coming home, I’m coming home this instant!” You listen to Taehyung rummage around on his side, but you’re far too fucked out to even sense his anger.
“Shit… shit, shit, shit.” You gasp, grinding your teeth to manage the fluttery sensation within your gut. You can feel something deliciously simmering, ready to release. “Fuck, I’m getting close, oh shit, I’m close!”
You listen to Taehyung order someone on his end, speaking harshly into the receiver. “I swear I won’t forgive you for this, Y/N, less than ten minutes and I’ll be home, just wait.”
“Awh, I’m so scared–ah!” You moan through your taunt, sighing out with pleasure.
“Baby, stop moaning, oh my fucking God stop moaning.” Taehyung sounds as though he’s losing his sanity, evidently clenching his jaw. “I’m driving and my phone’s fucking connected to my car, stop moaning!”
“Ngh!” You moan louder, half taunting, half because you’re constantly teasing your spasming hole.
“Fuck me, I can hear you everywhere, stop moaning!”
“God, this feels amazing,” you deliriously sigh, erotic noises bouncing off the walls of your room. “Fuck you… Taehyung… for not letting me use vibrators.”
“This is why, you slut.” Taehyung hisses, his rough tone lighting your squirming body on fire. “You’re the epitome of a disobedient brat; you know exactly what kills me and use it against me!”
“What? Being able to hear me, but not see me? Or the opposite? You’re such a simple man, Kim Taehyung, so–oh my god.” You erupt with a heady moan when you plunge the tip of the wand inside your pussy hole, unable to contain yourself.
“For fuck’s sake, you’re torturing me, Princess. Either stop or mute yourself, you’re killing me!”
“You can just… hang up–fuck!”
“It’ll kill me even more knowing you could orgasm without me,” he reasons. “Five minutes and I’ll be home, five fucking minutes, dammit!”
“You can just wave the white flag, Tae.” You coo, strangling fucked out groans. “All you need to do… is come home and put your dick inside me, baby, it’s that simple.” You chide him just as he did yesterday, indulging in your sweet revenge.
“You know I can’t do that!” He shouts.
“Can’t? Or won’t–ugh.”
“You’re so–! This is cruel, Y/N, you’re completely violating the rules, this is a crime!”
“Rules? I don’t remember those–oh god.”
“I told you to stop moaning!” He angrily directs. “You need to shut your pretty mouth before I do it myself.”
“Awh, is Mr. Kim gonna punish me? What if I can’t stop—ngh!”
“Y/N, shut up!”
“Come home and fuck me, Mr. Kim, fuck me like the whore I am, fuck me like your needy little sub.” You purposefully coo, melding it with your graphic moans.
“You witch, you’re a witch!” He cries out, sounding as though he’s hanging by his last thread. “What happened to my good girl, huh? When did she get so bad?”
You smirk, lacing your timbre with seduction. “Your good girl’s gone, Mr. Kim,” you purr. “You need to come home and fuck her into her place.”
“For fuck’s sake!” Taehyung howls, his voice utterly fed up. “You’re done, you’re done!”
“What?” You retort, swept up in the intense moment. “Didn’t want me to discover vibrators because they’re better than your dick?”
Now that is what ticks Taehyung off, his voice roaring through the phone. “Oh you little—you’re fucking in for it!”
All you hear is the FaceTime call cut out, too distracted by your pleasure to pay any real attention. Your orgasm bubbles— swirls around inside you as your toes curl, your eyes roll back and your body operates on sheer pleasure alone.
The vibrations ripple throughout your sex, curious as to how the wand would feel inside you. You sheath it inside without a care, exploding with a mewl when the spasming toy greets your eager walls. It feels glorious, shuddering with pleasure as you indulge in the gracious vibrations.
You’re reaching your limit, so sucked up into your own world you crazily speed up the vibrator, needing it to beat inside your pulsing walls until you unravel like a wind up toy. The vibrations ceaselessly ripple through you now, the speed so delicious your hands automatically latch into the headboard behind you. You hang on for dear life as a powerful orgasm sneaks up on you, building, building, and building, your moans unstoppable, your pussy walls throbbing, your legs shaking, body begging for your much-needed release.
And just when your cries reach a crescendo, your bedroom door suddenly swings open, revealing your winded, cross husband. “Y/N-!”
He never finishes his sentence, because the most powerful, earth-shattering orgasm erupts within you, your body jerking off the bed as you convulse. Every muscle in your body tenses with immeasurable pleasure, falling into your sheets, skin slickened with sweat, utterly spent of all your energy.
You pant wildly as you come down your high, barely able to register Taehyung’s glowering eyes and his rageful, reprimanding voice. “You did not just—I can’t believe you!”
Feeling the weight of your body sink into the mattress, your half-lidded eyes are the only thing able to move, sliding over to an angry Taehyung. “You’re literally evil, a goddamn witch!” He shouts, throwing his arms up in the air. “I swear I’ll only tolerate this shit in our home, you better not pull this revenge crap when we’re in public!”
You have nothing to counter him, breaking into a fucked-out grin as you send him a thumbs up, elated that you’d successfully gotten back at him. “This is… for yesterday… asshole.”
“Y/N, I’m serious.” Tahyung presses, pushing his jacket backwards to perch his hands on his hips. “You know we have Hoseok’s dinner this Friday; I swear if you don’t behave by then, I’m going to retaliate far worse than you.”
You soak in his threat paired with an accusing finger, though it only inflates your ego. His challenge ignites something inside you, gaining enough strength to bite back. “Scared I’m going to win, loverboy?”
Taehyung scoffs. “You’re not winning, you damn brat.”
“We’ll see about that.” You retort, staring down Taehyung with scrutinizing eyes as he shoots back a fiery look. He eventually has enough, storming out of your bedroom as a string of complaints leave his mouth.
You plop back into the sheets, floating on the cloud nine by the time sleep threatens to wash over your blissed-out, exhausted body.
The next three days of your life consisted of sheer mayhem.
Taehyung wasn’t kidding when he proclaimed the level of his retaliation. Peace has been a fragile concept in your household ever since, having transformed into a makeshift battlefield where you and your husband snag every opportunity to gain your revenge on each other.
Tuesday morning when you’d hopped in the shower, Taehyung slipped inside in the middle of your shampooing. You cocked a questioning brow as you faced him—he shot back an unbothered shrug.
“What? I can’t shower in my own house?”
Rolling your eyes, you sighed as you returned to lathering up your hair, allowing him to do whatever he must. You both washed up quite normally, pretty distanced from one another until Taehyung began purposefully invading your space.
He constantly reached over you for his shampoo, body wash, even your loofah with feigned innocence, deliberately brushing up against your naked body each time. Eventually, his hands naturally began roaming your wet skin, and here came your perpetual doom.
The sensation of his touch felt intensifying, biting your lip to manage your arousal when he skimmed your sensitive spots. When his pillowy lips found their way to your neck, you melted into his strong chest, relishing in the shower water streaming down your entangled figures.
His fingers traversed your body sensually, stroking you with such purposeful seduction, you nearly moaned. It wasn’t until his flesh caressed your backside did you recognize his sneaky scheme. You swatted him away with a scoff, sneering at him and his cunningness—your husband only flashed you a shit-eating smirk.
That following day, you decided to be Satan's spawn. You twirled your pen as you eyed your gorgeous husband lead this morning’s meeting, watching him effortlessly carry himself with grace and professionalism—you ignored the arousal he stirred inside you.
Once the meeting finished, you purposefully stalled on collecting your papers, watching Taehyung bid a farewell to everyone as they exited. Once your unsuspecting husband rose from his seat to vacate the area, you ambushed him, blocking him from opening the door.
His eyes widened with surprised, though hardened into scrutinizing slits once he figured out your game. You argued for all of five minutes before you walked the delicious man back to his seat, shoving him into his chair. You slid a leg over his lap, seductively toying with his Tom Ford tie.
He watched you do so, his jaw flexing as he tongued the inside of his cheek. “Having fun, Princess?” He condescended. “You can play with me all you want; we all know at the end of day I’m your boss, and the CEO your pussy.”
Bitterly laughing, you harshly pulled him towards your face with his tie, eyeing him down. You let a finger glide over his perfect cupid’s bow and down the column of his throat, brushing his lips with your own. “And at the end of the day, we all know you’re an absolute simp for me, so who really owns who?”
Taehyung remained adamant you’ll break first, challenging you back, though once you leaned over and whispered something scandalous in his ear, he erupted into angry flames, simmering with betrayal. You proudly strutted out the meeting room, an accomplished smile plastering across your face.
Who knew going commando could get your husband’s panties in a twist? Men are sincerely so simple.
But, come the next day, Taehyung decided he’s not fucking around anymore.
You nearly jumped out of your skin when your office door unexpectedly shut, flitting up to find your Adonis-like husband leaning against it, dressed in an incredibly dapper, three-piece navy blue suit. Taehyung tilted his head, piercing your soul with his playful irises, hands shoved into his pockets.
You quirked a suspicious brow, questioning him of his arrival. “What the fuck do you want, loverboy?”
He raised his brows at your tone. “I don’t think that’s how you address your boss, Mrs. Kim.”
“My bad,” you retorted. “What the fuck do you want, Mr. Kim?”
Tonguing the inside of his cheek, a smug grin teases Taehyung’s lips at your use of an honorific, his index finger sliding across his bottom lip. “I’m here to speak to you as Mrs. Kim, a talented architect. I wanted to discuss something very important.”
Clearing your throat, you unwillingly welcomed him to sit. “Be my guest then, sir.”
Taehyung twitched at your use of ‘sir’, suppressing a cough. He unbuttoned his debonair suit as he seated himself across from you. “Thank you, Mrs. Kim. I’ll cut right to the chase, you must be a busy woman.”
You appreciatively smiled at his politeness.
“Essentially, what I wanted to discuss is quite personal, though I wanted your opinion as an architect regarding the matter.” He began; you followed his example of professionalism.
“Of course, what’s the matter, Mr. Kim?”
“Well, as you know, I’m married.” He proudly established, toying with his wedding band. “To this absolutely gorgeous, stellar woman. Love of my life, really, wouldn’t have it any other way.” He casually proclaimed—you attempted to hide your flushed cheeks as he spoke.
“I see; how lucky you are?”
“Very lucky indeed.” He gracefully smiles. “However, she has this horrible habit of being an insufferable brat and disobeying me—so I’ve been devising many ways to punish her.”
Gulping, you nearly choke on your spit, trying to follow whatever act he’s performing. “Pardon me?”
“Yes, we have a Dom/sub relationship and I’ve been considering ways I can punish her for her attitude.” Taehyung nonchalantly admits. “I was thinking about installing some new things in our sex room to ensure she obeys me.”
Coughing, you can barely look the man seriously in the eye—he’s surely fucking with you, but his Oscar-worthy perfomance had you following his every step. “W-wow, she sounds like a handful.” You grimace, scrunching your nose—who knew you’d be referring to yourself in third-person today? “Though isn’t this a bit too personal, Mr. Kim? It may be unprofessional to discuss something of this matter with one of your employees.”
From across your desk, Taehyung gave you a look darker than hell itself, shattering all your confidence. He had single-handedly submitted you with his intimidating eyes, soon rising from his seat. He rounded your desk, settling behind your chair, gulping when you felt his domineering aura permeate your back.
He leaned over, placing his hands either side of you against your desk to trap you, his lips dangerously close to your ear—he brushed your helix with a hot, deep whisper. “Are you suggesting I don’t know how to be professional at my own company, Mrs. Kim?”
The sharpest surge of arousal spiked through your cunt, shuddering when his heady Invictus cologne flooded your nostrils. His aftershave was killing you; did he just have to fucking shave this morning?
Weting your lips, you swallowed harshly, shaking in your heels. “I wouldn’t do such a thing, Mr. Kim.”
“Mm,” he hums. “That’s what I thought.” His caramel-smooth, baritone voice lights your pussy on fire, squirming when he speaks again. “Now, I still need your professional opinion, Mrs. Kim.”
“Y-Yes.” Your palms begin sweating, tightly clutching them together to resist shoving your tongue down Taehyung’s throat—how could he intimidate you and turn you on in the same breath? He’s a powerful, powerful man. “What would you like to ask?”
“I’d like to ask about the architectural science and safety measures of installing something in my sex room.” His unbothered, breezy tone ticks you off, yet arouses you the same; how could he ask something so blatantly scandalous? This man was truly never one to fuck with, especially when he was serious. “It’s for my wife.”
Holding your breath, you clear your clogged throat. “What-what would you need to know?”
Embodying the devil himself, Taehyung’s voice dropped an octave, voice deeper than the depths of hell. “I wanted to know the best way I could suspend her from the ceiling.”
Your eyes widened, face burning so hot your cheeks could’ve melted. You shoveed your hands between your thighs, attempting to manage the wave of cum he gushed out of you. You nearly scream when Taehyung curls your hair behind the ear his lips brushed, his sweet, heated breaths lighting your skin on fire.
“Tell me, Mrs. Kim.”
You clutch the fabric of your skirt for dear life, pressing your thighs together. Your breathing was uneven, hitching as Taehyung’s intoxicating presence made your heart roar inside your chest. Your raging hormones screamed at you to simply jump the tempting man—jump him and bounce all over his perfect dick until you release a year’s worth of orgasms, let your sweaty bodies rut against each other until he spills his hot seed inside you.
But once your pride takes over the conversation, you grow angry, commending him for his clever attack, but never surrendering. You turn towards him with glowering eyes, batting his hand off you. “How’s about I tell you to fuck off, Mr. Kim?”
Taehyung heartily laughs, entertained by you. “Why, Mrs. Kim? I was simply asking a question, how dare you speak to your superior with that tone?”
“Perhaps you should ask your gorgeous, talented, wonderful wife.” You snark. “She doesn’t even sound like the problem, this all seems like a you-problem.”
Taehyung leans back to his full height as he rounds your desk, wearing a confident, shit-eating smirk. “We’ll see if it’s a me-problem when she’s the one hanging from my ceiling.” He bites back, leaning his hands on your desk. “Absolutely naked, ready for my taking.”
His sinful stare grips your very soul. You inhale sharply when you feel his dominant, alpha male energy permeate you, pussy aching to be full of him. When he shot one last bounce of his brows, his suave walk out of your office lit you up like a firecracker, nearly throwing your pen at him.
The constant battle for a winner continued into Thursday, wildly scandalous shenanigans headlining your useless war.
Sending each other endless thirst traps on snapchat, cheeky nudes, erotic voice notes, teasing touches, sudden naked appearances in close vicinity to each other—absolutely nothing was left off the table.
Taehyung even purposefully brought his work out equipment home to exercise in front of you, coaxing essence out of like sap from a tree—you nearly ripped his shorts down to gobble up his cock once you spotted the glistening sweat on his lean muscles, heard his deep, masculine grunts as he lifted, watched him heavily breathe between each set.
You’d bought the skimpiest lingerie set possible to raid one of his conferences at home. He was seated on your spacious love seat in the entertainment area, eloquently speaking about some transactions with his financial team. He sounded incredibly sexy, even looked it, too—sleeves rolled up, top of his shirt unbuttoned, revealing his delicious chest.
You adored the rageful look in his eyes once you presented yourself, completely unbothered. You made room on his lap as you carelessly sat yourself on his crotch—it was your throne, anyway. He shot you an irritated expression as you courageously tipped your chin, clicking Netflix on your gigantic TV.
You casted your bare legs over the leather armrest, cozying up your ass over his clothed dick. Taehyung twitched when he felt your pussy—your lace panties were unfairly non-existent.
He cleared his throat as he continued listening to the others in his meeting, attempting to ignore your nearly naked body casually sitting on him. He snuck glances at your cleavage, two round globes supported by a push-up bra, though attempted to (unsuccessfully) ignore it. His arms caged around you once he began working on his laptop, effortlessly typing away.
You leaned your head against Taehyung’s warm chest, snuggling into him like a puzzle piece.
Your revenge plan began when you finally arrived at the perfect scene to start it all, considering the movie you chose, of all films.
Fifty Shades of Grey.
You let the sounds of Christian and Anatasia having sex fill the room, even putting up the volume just to hear them better. Taehyung flashed his annoyed eyes at the screen, rolling them when he sees you upping the volume. He remained unbothered until you maneuvered your ass over his crotch for comfort—you rubbed his subtly erect member, feeling it twitch.
He subdued a groan when you did it again, promiscuously adjusting your position. Your husband remained adamant on ignoring you, containing himself. But when you purposefully gyrated your hips over him, Taehyung instantly grappled you, digging his fingers into your skin.
“Y/N, I will literally fuck you against our TV.” He hissed, his irises furiously glowing with warning. “Sit still and watch your movie, or the TV won’t be the only thing I break.”
You swallowed harshly hearing the sternness in his timbre—he was serious about possibly fucking you so hard he breaks your back. You decided to oblige, settling against his chest again to silently watch your movie—you actually liked the Fifty Shades franchise, anyway.
Things remained a little tense after that, but not malicious. Dinner later that day was lukewarm, both of you eating in silence, until somehow, the tension boiled over.
Taehyung had sent Mrs. Choi and Seo home earlier that day, leaving you and him to clean up. Washing dishes should’ve been perfectly normal, if it weren’t for the many times you both constantly brushed each other, already vibrating with so much sexual tension, Taehyung threw his drying towel away to take your lips.
He had pressed you into the kitchen counter, hoisting you onto the surface as he ground his hips into your barely dressed pussy, robe flung open. Your perky breasts rubbed against his shirt—you were still wearing your lingerie set, and clearly he’d had enough. His hands constantly roamed your body, brushing your bare thighs up and down, up and down until his fingers instinctively slid towards you center, swiping through your damp panties.
You gasped into his mouth, eliciting something carnal to ignite his eyes. Before you knew it, a full-on, heated makeout session ensued.
Clearly the 5 days you’d gone without each other had you craving the other in irrevocable ways. Taehyung’s pants were hot against your lips, biting, sucking, licking them as though he were starved, as though the only meal he craved was you.
You hissed when he pressed the pads of his fingers into you, incredibly sensitive down there. Your hands naturally aimed for his belt, your hips shamelessly riding his masterful fingers. It wasn’t until you ripped open his pants did reality strike you both like lightning—you pulled away from each other instantly.
Taehyung accused you of attempting to seduce him, while you spat back that he’s the one who started it. The argument lasted long enough that you both decided to sleep in different rooms—sharing a bed would not only heighten your anger, but the craving to jump each other’s bones.
Now, Friday had arrived, also known as operation Hoseok’s dinner party, and also day 6 without sex.
“Hob-ah, how’s your recent club been doing? Wasn’t there an issue with one of the bouncers?”
“Jimin, c’mon, just choose a goddamn gift for your fiance’s birthday already.”
“Jungkook, stop playing with your dick and fess up—you’re clearly into your wife.”
The ridiculous chatter is endless as you and Taehyung’s friends gather at an exclusive restaurant for a night out, Namjoon and Seokjin accompanied by their wives, while the rest indulge in friendly conversation.
Hoseok was celebrating the stellar news about the progress with his new beau; they’d started officially dating.
Everyone currently bugged the poor girl with nitpicky questions, throwing around harmless jokes and insults at an embarrassed, though elated Hoseok. Taehyung indulge in here and there, though predominantly remained focused on his phone; it seemed he was receiving important emails tonight.
Your husband examined his screen carefully as he reclined in the restaurant’s booth, which should’ve been okay, if it weren’t for the firm hand he kept clasped on your thigh. It was a habit of his: Taehyung claimed he always needed to be touching your scrumptious thighs.
Currently, he danced the tips of fingers across your bare skin. It was something harmless and ingrained in him, your husband drawing useless circles and patterns as he scrutinized the lines of a dense email. You ground your teeth trying to manage the constant touch of his hand; you were a pathetic whore for Taehyung’s gorgeous, veiny, gigantic hands caressing you, and you were near exploding.
His rings looked impeccable, paired with the Patek Phillipe watch you gifted him for Christmas hugging his wrist, his wedding band glimmering under the restaurant’s ambient yellow lights.
You squirm your toes trying to contain yourself. His fingertips are stroking the inside of your thigh, tirelessly teasing you with lewd ideas. Once he travels a mere inch towards your core, you’ve had enough, suddenly shoving his hand off you. Taehyung sends you a puzzled look, asking what’s wrong through his coffee irises.
You respond with a mocking look, annoyed. Taehyung shoots a ‘what the fuck’ expression as you cross your arms, ignoring him. It only makes him press you harder, clasping your arm to encourage you to look at him—the tension between you two catches the eyes of a certain someone.
“Oof, trouble in paradise, friends?” Seokjin notes beside you.
You and Taehyung both turn heads, caught like two deers in headlights.
“You’ve both barely spoken to each other, is everything alright?” Seokjin considerately asks. “Unless you don’t want to talk about it.”
Swallowing, you let Taehyung do the talking. “We’re fine, hyung. Thanks for asking.”
“You sure?” He queries. “You know you both can come to me with anything, I have plenty of experience with my own relationship. I feel a little sad seeing you guys like this.”
Touched by Seokjin’s concern, your eyes soften. Taehyung light-heartedly laughs, landing a friendly palm on Seokjin’s shoulder. “It’s nothing like that, hyung. Y/N and I are just… having a competition, you could say.”
“A competition?” He quirks a curious brow. “What kind?”
Taehyung flashes you a look as though asking your permission to proceed—you send him a confirming nod. Leaning towards Seokjin’s ear, Taehyung whispers the details about your current kerfuffle; Seokjin immediately erupts into hearty laughter.
“No fucking way, you guys are having a competition to see how long you can last without sex?!”
Seokjin being the ever-so loud, rambunctious member of the group, the entire table is privy to your childish war, erupting into amused cackles.
“What? These two?” Namjoon points between you with a snort. “These two who can barely keep their hands off each other? You can’t even take them out without risking getting booked for indecency.”
“No goddamn way,” Hoseok comments, stifling his giddy laughter. “Namjoon’s right, I bet there isn’t a single universe where these two fuck bunnies even last two days.”
“Two days?” Jungkook chips in, clucking his tongue. “That’s being nice, hyung. They could barely last a day with the amount that they fuck—I literally have trauma with calling them because I know I’ll hear a porno in the making like last time.”
“Taehyung, how could you not tell me this?” Jimin acts scandalized, slamming his hand on the table; he may be a bit drunk. “I’m your best friend!”
“Woah, okay, calm down, you clowns.” Taehyung gestures at his friends. “Jimin, it’s between Y/N and I, so I didn’t say anything. And you three, for your fucking information, we’ve gone 6 days without sex, so shut the fuck up, will you?”
“6 days? Holy shit, somebody write this down!” Seokjin hollers, wiping his fake tears. “It’s a historical day for society!”
“6 days without sex? Oh, these lovebirds aren’t lasting. Someone call the psych ward, they’re gonna go insane soon.” Jimin proclaims.
“You kidding me? Give them both some alcohol and I bet they’ll fuck like wild animals when they get home.” Jungkook slams his hefty wallet on the table, scouring for bills. “Who wants to bet money on it?”
Namjoon retaliates. “At home? Please, Jungkook, 70,000 won says they’ll do it in the Mercedes before even getting there.”
“Who says the restaurant’s bathroom is off limits?” Hoseok chimes in. “130,000 that they’ll fuck in there; even Eunbi’s bathroom wasn’t safe.”
“Please, Hob-ah.” Seokjin grievously laments. “I still have nightmares about that.”
“Okay! All of you, shut the fuck up!” You derisively sing-song, scolding the rowdy boys. “You guys just love picking at our sex life because of you’re jealous of it.”
“Exactly; you’re all just bitter you don’t have a relationship like ours.” Taehyung spits at them as he curls an arm around your shoulder; you back him up with vehement nods.
“Ew, I don’t wanna to be like you two nasty, lovey-dovey losers.” Jungkook retorts. “I’ve already got a crazy sex life of my own, thank you very much, which by the way I gotta tell you all…”
And Jungkook goes on to explain an insane update on the current fuss with his wife, finally lifting the hot seat you and Taehyung had found yourselves in. The night continued with fun-filled laughter, chatter, and a plentiful amount of food—shit only hit the fan when alcohol was served.
You and Taehyung both adopted the mindset of drowning your sorrows, inhaling shot after shot. You both became much more free-spirited once liquor entered your systems, finally loosening up enough to have a good time, forgetting all about your petty bet. You laughed into Taehyung’s shoulder as he told you charming jokes and shamelessly flirted with you, he smiled from ear-to-ear watching you cutely giggle—you remained closely entangled together the whole night, lost in the other’s eyes.
Your drunken giggles were endless as you and Taehyung piled out of the restaurant with the rest of your party, your arms slung around his neck, his snug around your lower back as you fooled around. You’re both busy chuckling at Taehyung trying to kiss you when Namjoon patted your husband’s shoulder.
“Hey, Taehyung-ah, you two getting home alright?”
Taehyung shoots Namjoon a narrow-eyed look, slurring his words when he speaks. “Who d’you think I am, hyung? Ovously I wouldn’t dive-drive when I drank alcol.” Your husband hiccups, which causes you to laugh at him.
Namjoon’s lips curve with a fond, dimply smile, laughing. “Alright, lovebirds. Get home safe.” Namjoon affectionately claps Taehyung’s back. The pair of you send him a drunken thumbs up before Namjoon locates his wife. Taehyung suddenly faces you, cupping your cheeks.
“Hey, Princess.” He hiccups, his lips pouting as he stares at your plushy ones. “I’m sowry I drank when I’m the diver-driver; I shouldm’ve been more reponsible.”
Your heart melts as he drunkenly rambles, cupping his cheeks back. “Is okey, Taehyung.” You coo, communicating with him in pout. “You work hard enough; you deserve a bwreak.”
He brightly grins as he bops your nose, causing you both to stupidly laugh. Mr. Kang ends up finding you two, greeting him as though he were your saviour. He sincerely was, because once he began driving, the alcohol caused you both to disregard your surroundings. Your husband tugged you over his lap and connected your lips for shameless kisses, touches, even temporary stripping of clothes.
You both incessantly giggled and smiled throughout the steamy session, happily enjoying each other’s company. Mr. Kang even faintly smiled at you two before placing up the partition.
Arriving home, you burst through the door, liquor having stunted your ability to have a logical conversation. Tossing away your shoes, you run towards Taehyung, hooking your arms around his gorgeously carved neck.
“Taehyung! Oh my god, we’re home, this is our home!” You drunkenly marvel.
“Right? Our home, all ours.” Taehyung joins in on your fun, palms encasing your waist, slowly waddling you both inside after shutting the door. “Wouldn’t it be amazing if it wasn’t just us two, though?”
“Yes, yes!” You excitedly shout. “We need babies, we need so many babies!”
Taehyung warmly chuckles, his cheeks flushed with alcohol. “I don’t know about so many babies, Princess—it’s gonna hurt you.”
“But I want your babies!” You angrily pout, leaning your chin on his strong chest. “You don’t want my babies, Taehyung?”
Taehyung softens at your intoxicated expression, sickeningly in love with you. His palms affectionately encircle your waist, holding you close. “Of course I want your babies, baby. But pregnancy is a lot—I don’t want it to hurt you.”
“But I need your babies!” You valiantly proclaim, crashing your lips against Taehyung’s so powerfully, the man nearly tumbles backwards. You end up toppling him over your couch, straddling him as he cradles your body over his.
You both drunkenly make out, sloppy and disarrayed, relishing in each other’s taste before you break away. “I wanna have your babies, Taehyung.” You pout, a sad look dawning on your features. Your soft irises fall to his neck,toying with the top button of his dress shirt. “Why can’t we have a baby?”
Taehyung’s heart sinks hearing your frail voice, lightly brushing some hair from your face. “We’ll have a baby someday, pretty girl.” He comforts you, stroking his thumb across your cheek. “We’ll keep trying, I promise; I’ll give you all the babies you want.”
You attempt to blink moisture out of your eyes as depression washes over you; sometimes Vodka really backfired on your emotions. Lately, things have been difficult trying to conceive with Taehyung; you've been trying for 6 months now, and you’ve gained nothing but disappointment.
“But we keep trying… and no babies.” Your bottom lip slightly trembles, sniffling. “I want a baby, Tae.”
The brokenness of your tone is what shatters your husband; it sounded like a cry from deep within your soul. Taehyung’s palms immediately encase your cheeks, his heart softening. He hates the sad pout on your lips, even watching your eyes gloss over. Heart-broken, he softly exhales, pressing your mouths together sweetly, so gently, you were certain your insides melted.
His kiss ignites something inside you, springing up onto your knees to gain some leverage. You use the height advantage to devour him, Taehyung’s hands sensually roaming your body. Your hips grind into Taehyung’s instinctually, deep groans slipping past his lips.
You shudder into his mouth when he thrusts up into you, your clothed cunt welcomed by his rising member. You take his bottom lip between your teeth to bite him, licking over your teeth marks before plunging your tongue inside his mouth.
Your husband licks your tongue, sharing your saliva without a regard for anything as ferality overwhelms him—you share the same sentiment.
“Taehyung,” you breathe, hormones surging through your veins. “Put a baby in me, I want your babies.”
Your plea is hot against Taehyung’s lips, constant smacking noises filling the room as you nastily makeout. Taehyung groans when you grind down over his crotch, deliciously rubbing against his clothed tip. “I’ll give you anything you want, pretty girl.”
His uneven breaths light you on fire, driven by sheer lust. Paired with the alcohol and six days with absitinence, your mind is stupidly desparate for sex right now.
“Wanna have your babies, Tae.” You moan into his mouth, Taehyung’s hands sliding down your back to cup your ass, squeezing the flesh. He lifts up your skirt to roam your bare cheeks, smacking both as he guides your hips over his lap, growling out deep, masculine groans.
“Oh, I’ll fucking put a baby in you,” he pants, slithering his tongue inside you. You can taste the Whiskey he drank, melting into his strong body as his digits emblazon your ass.
You run on adrenaline, craving Taehyung with such carnal need, you’re uncontrollable. You hotly whisper against his swollen, wet lips, fingers weaved through his sexy hair. “Taehyung, please… fuck me.”
Taehyung’s eyes shine with desire, pupils dilating at the request. His body tenses, his cock twitches, his muscles even readying themselves, but he needs to ask. “Baby… are you sure—”
“Please, Tae,” you beg, tugging his luscious locks. “I’m fucking aching for you.”
Your cunt flutters over his lap, sighing when the shape of him caresses you. You’re so incredibly sensitive, cum gushes out of you like waterworks. You physically shudder, bracing Taehyung’s shoulder as your hips develop a mind of their own, grinding over his crotch.
Taehyung still hesitates, leaving affectionate pecks along your jaw. “Say it,” he commands, thrusting up into your sex once again. “Say you want me, Princess, say how much you want it.”
“I–I want it, Tae, so badly.” You strangle out, pussy drowning with your essence, vibrating for his flesh to be lodged inside you. “Want you inside me… want you to fuck me like a bad girl, fuck me like a dirty slut.”
Taehyung shudders out a sexy, deep groan, his dick twitching inside his pants. “Fuck, Y/N…”
“I’m so fucking horny, baby. I need you.” You beseech, arm slinging around his neck to bury your hand in his hair, your unoccupied one tugging his tucked dress shirt out of his pants. “Fuck me right here, right now. Fuck me like your pathetic whore.” You drunkenly plead, promiscuously rolling your hips over him, body operating on alcohol and insufferable horniness alone.
Taehyung literally growls, an animalistic need overwhelming him. He snatches your waist and spins you to his side, rapidly pinning you to the couch. He crawls over you and cages you underneath, lips crashing into yours.
His hands quickly ride up your skirt, tearing off your clothes before his thumbs cling to your underwear, stripping it off with hot finesse. He instinctively unclasps his belt, removing the irritating thing to push down his pants, freeing his incredibly hard, rock-solid length. Your grabby hands demanded his clothes be off, quickly stripping him as well to reveal his deliciously masculine body.
Everything else that occurred afterwards was a blur to you, only able to remember certain details. You recalled your husband’s gravelly, husky groans, his hands desperately gripping you, the dark, plum-coloured kisses he embellished on your skin.
You remember his powerful body manuevering over yours, the incessant sounds of his laboured breaths by your ear. You seldom remember the hot things he whispered, but you remember the way you felt, they way he felt, the way your pussy throbbed for more, the way your fingers tugged his hair, eventually scraped down his neck to leave red trails along his sweaty skin, the painful, but pleasurable burn between your legs.
But, next thing you knew, the alcohol intoxicated your head so much, unprecedented exhaustion overwhelmed your body. Taehyung exhibited the same symptoms, his thrusts losing precision, harshness, until suddenly, he lost speed altogether. His hips eventually stilled, barely able to keep his eyes open.
Yours threaten to fall shut, too, only recalling the mutual look you and Taehyung gave to each other. You faintly remember him pulling out of you before he collapsed over your body, your own succumbing to unavoidable fatigue.
The only reminder he was even next to you was the soft, familiar beating of his heart, and the sheltering warmth of his skin.
Taehyung awakens to the feeling of something on his chest, groaning as his eyes flutter open. He rubs one before peeking down, focusing on the particular weight over his heart—his eyes widen immediately.
You’re lying completely naked on his chest.
He curses under his breath, his head finally clear enough to understand his reality. He sees himself naked as well, running a stressed hand over his groggy face with a curse.
“Fuck… did we have sex?”
All Taehyung remembers from last night was his poor decision to drown in Whiskey, and the incredible horniness that attacked him as a result. He remembers making out with you, remembers getting handsy, recalls the faint memory of dirty-talk, but scarcely remembers the actual sex.
He blinks multiple times as he gazes at you, your frame softly rising and falling as you sleep. Once his mind comes up empty of any other excuses, he sighs as he comes to his conclusion.
“Yeah, we definitely had sex.”
Groaning, Taehyung curses when he remembers your petty little competition, worsening his already agonizing headache. It should probably be the least of his concerns, but he’s still pissed he can’t remember who initiated things, meaning another future argument with you.
Kissing his teeth, Taehyung snatches his phone and taps his screen, registering the time. It’s nearly the hour Mrs. Choi and Seo come by the house to begin cooking breakfast. Taehyung’s head falls back against the couch, grievously sighing.
Taehyung carefully maneuvers himself out from under you, affectionate with your slumbering body. He slips on his boxers and pants from last night, next locating a blanket. He drapes a light one over your naked figure, soon hoisting you up in his arms.
He’s making his way towards the stairs when the door suddenly swings open, making dreaded eye contact with his two housekeepers. The ladies pause upon seeing a shirtless Taehyung carrying you bridal-style, though Taehyung’s quick to defuse the moment.
“Good morning, Mrs. Choi, Mrs. Seo.”
“Good morning, Mr. Kim,” The two ladies kindly greet him, removing their jackets and shoes.
“Sorry about the mess,” Taehyung ticks his head in the direction of your sprawled clothes. “We’d drank last night and weren’t exactly in our right minds.”
“That’s alright, Mr. Kim.” Mrs. Seo politely assures him. “You and Mrs. Kim are young lovers, sir, you should enjoy your youth.”
“That’s right, Mr. Kim.” Mrs. Choi chimes in. “Young love is precious, never let us old ladies stop you!”
Taehyung cracks a fond smile, laughing. “Thank you, Mrs. Choi, Mrs. Seo.”
“Would you like us to cook some hangover soup for yourself and Mrs. Kim?” Mrs. Choi asks as she meanders in with her purse.
“Yes, please, though only some for me right now, Y/N’s still sleeping.” Taehyung’s eyes shift to you in his arms, silently doting on your angelic, sleeping face. “I would like her food to be served when she’s awake. I want it nice and hot for her, if you don’t mind.”
“Of course, not at all.” Mrs. Choi benignly reassures, already stepping into the kitchen.
“Thank you. Prepare some ibuprofen as well, she’s a horrible drunk, as usual.” Taehyung jokes, earning a laugh from the ladies. Mrs. Seo guarantees Taehyung that everything will be in place for you, finally making his way towards the staircase.
“Oh, and remember to serve her citrus fruits,” Taehyung calls out as he ascends the stairs, protectively carrying you. “Lots of fruits for her, in general. And don’t forget her vitamins, please.”
The ladies nod affirmatively before returning to their work, leaving Taehyung to vanish upstairs.
“Shit, my car’s in the shop.”
You lightly hit your fist against your palm, kissing your teeth when you recall your lack of transportation today. It’s currently a calm, late Saturday afternoon, having spent the last hour getting ready for your evening out with Hana.
Thank God your massive headache subsided after your delicious hangover soup, your housekeepers really were the best cooks. They must've been magicians, though, because their food had also granted you the ability to regain your memories from last night.
You muffled your scream into your pillow when you remembered you and Taehyung having sex; your sore legs were enough to know it was real, too, and not a dream. You whined at the idea that somebody lost the competition, and you’re unsure of exactly who it was, but 70% sure it was you.
As a result, you decided to subconsciously ignore Taehyung today. Thankfully, he spent his morning out, having gone golfing with some board members before returning home to work quietly in his study.
Memories of last night’s steamy, sweaty sex entered your mind every now and then throughout the morning, though you forced yourself to pretend it didn’t happen, and that it didn’t count, either.
Swallowing your pride, you sigh as you patter over to Taehyung’s study, lightly knocking on the door.
“Come in.” You hear him request, carefully twisting the knob open. You clear your throat as you waddle inside, Taehyung’s gaze lifting from his laptop to observe you. He visibly brightens, as though his body has an innate reaction to your presence, though he schools himself, returning to his work.
“Good afternoon, Princess.”
The addressment curves your lips in the slightest, lacing your fingers behind your back. “Good afternoon, Tae.”
“How’s your headache?” He queries, sifting through paperwork. “Mrs. Seo told me you slept in because of it.”
“Yeah, I could barely get out of bed, honestly. Though the hangover soup helped, and the ibuprofen, too.” You detail. “They told me you specifically requested both. Thank you.”
“No need to thank me, love.” He replies, flexing his neck sideways with a grimace before focusing on his work; his shoulder seemed to be bothering him. You hesitate offering him a massage considering the awkward tension from last night, though his voice interrupts your thought. “Why did you come to my study, did you need something?”
“Oh, yeah.” A figurative lightbulb pops into thin air above you, extending your hand. “Could I have the keys to your Mercedes? My car’s in the shop.”
He furrows his brows. “My car? Are you going out?”
You grab the ends of your blush pink baby doll, lightly swaying the thin satin fabric, even puckering your lips to indicate your makeup. “A bit obvious, isn’t it?”
Taehyung sends you a deadpan expression. “With who?”
His stoic energy ticks you off, letting your sarcasm loose. “My secret boyfriend.”
Your husband shoots you a harsh look. “Be serious, Y/N.”
Letting out a long, deep sigh, you confess. “With Hana; she wants to complain about my brother.”
“Will you be out all night?”
“Don’t think so, I’m visiting the site of the new headquarters building Sunday morning and I want to sleep well.” You honestly inform him—he amicably nods.
“Alright, I’ll give you the keys, but do me a quick favour first, please?” He asks, pointing towards one of his shelves on his left. “I need one of those old logs on the 7th shelf, could you grab it for me?”
Nodding, you follow his instructions indicating which specific log, stepping towards his shelf. You kiss your teeth registering that it’s too high, locating a nearby stepping stool. You almost climb onto it until you suddenly freeze, remembering something vital; you’re wearing nothing underneath your babydoll.
You face flushes once you consider that if you climb the stool, you’ll be flashing Taehyung your bare pussy. While on another day that wouldn’t have been a problem, the current sticky situation made you feel shy about it—he could potentially believe you’re seducing him.
Clearing your throat, you timidly clasp your hands together, facing him. “Um… it’s a little high for me, I think you’ll need to grab it.”
Taehyung tilts his head. “You can use the stepping stool; it’s specifically for you.”
Rolling your eyes, you decide to admit the truth. “Well, I’m not wearing anything underneath this, and last I remember you think I’m trying to seduce you 24/7, Mr. Kim.”
Taehyung instantly recognizes your dig, narrowing his eyes at you. He huffs out before drawing back his chair, rising from his seat. His long legs carry him so fast you have limited time to move out of his way, Taehyung simply reaching over your head.
It’s a minor thing, and yet, it’s the soft hand Taehyung clasps around your hip as he reaches up that lights your skin on fire. His touch through the thin babydoll feels exhilarating, suddenly reminded of his body on yours last night. The sex drought had surely made you insane; how could his domestic touch and mere presence behind you make you squirm? His larger body always made you feel so small, but in a way that ignited your bones.
You shrug off his touch once the image of his broad frame in comparison to yours ruins you—Taehyung cocks a suspicious brow as he retrieves the log. He returns to his desk without questioning it, plopping down the heavy binder before opening his drawer, unearthing his keys.
“You know the rules; both about my car and going out.” He reminds you, jangling the keys. “Think you know the car ones, but I think you need a reminder of the going out ones.”
You tilt your head, curiously contorting your lips.
Taehyung tongues his cheek, swallowing. “You need to kiss me before you go.”
Your eyes widen, awkwardly shuffling your feet. “I thought you said no kissing?”
“I said quick pecks are allowed.”
Seeing his point, you roll your eyes. You paddle over to him, watching him turn his chair to face you. He nonchalantly leans back, manspreading his expansive legs as he blankly waits for you, holding out the keys.
With slightly flustered cheeks, you swallow, carefully leaning down—his domineering presence is sincerely wounding your resolve. Your hand cradles his bicep as you tenderly press your lips to his, kissing him. You’re surprised when he actually reciprocates it, kissing you back. Feeding into the sweet liplock for all of six seconds, you pull away before his scent hypnotizes you, snatching the keys.
“Thank you.” You quickly mumble before scurrying away, yearning to be out of his study already. Taehyung doesn’t say anything else, which at first, makes you glad, though on second thought, causes your heart to sink. He didn’t mention last night; would he not have used it to solidify his win? Or is he purposefully ignoring it because he’s pissed?
Did he possibly not even remember last night? There’s no way, you’re certain Taehyung woke up first and tucked you into bed; he surely found you both lying naked together, too.
Swallowing your pride, you swivel around on your foot. “By the way… um, about last night.”
He lifts his gaze, paying attention to you. “Yes?”
“It… it doesn’t count.” You manage to say. “We were both drunk, and it’s hard to remember, anyway.”
Taehyung furrows an intimidating brow of his. “I understand, but it still completely counts, Y/N. We had sex.”
“We fell asleep before we could even orgasm, Tae.” You argue. “It doesn’t count, alcohol just makes us really horny.”
“We were already horny before the alcohol, Y/N.” Taehyung reasons. “It does count; we couldn’t control ourselves and had sex, let’s consider it a draw.”
You exclaim with confusion, hand finding your hip. “What? A draw? No way some drunk sex ends everything at a draw.”
Your husband sighs behind his desk. “Yes it does, Y/N. Like you said, neither of us really remember it, so it’s no use analyzing who seduced who first. Let's act like grown ups and call it a fair draw, okay?”
Scoffing, you fold your arms over your chest. “It was probably you who lost, anyway.”
“It was you, actually.” Taehyung’s quick to bite back. “I have better tolerance and therefore better memory of last night; I remember you starting things, Y/N.”
“We can’t be sure of that,” you retort. “We were both wasted and clearly very horny, you just don’t want to admit that you lost.”
Taehyung crudely laughs. “Win or lose, drunk sex means a draw, end of discussion.” Your husband finalizes. “Even though it was technically you, I’m being nice and letting us end off on a draw; cherish my kindness, sweetie.”
Indignation immediately floods your system, puffing your cheeks at him. “Shut up, you didn’t win for shit, your tolerance isn’t even that much better than mine.”
“Yes it is.”
“No it isn’t.”
“Yes it is.”
“No it isn’t.”
“Yes it is!”
“No it isn’t!”
You and Taehyung immaturely fight again, stuck in a constant back and forth of who gave into who first.
“Actually, it started at the dinner table when you couldn’t even keep your hands off me, you were clearly trying to make me horny!” You screech.
“Actually, it started when you purposefully wore that skirt and those thigh-highs, it wouldn’t be the first time you weaponized your outfits to make me horny!” He retaliates.
Hollering at each other for another five obnoxious minutes, you grow fed up.
“Ugh! You’re an insufferable sore loser, you can never stand letting me be right with your damn ego!” You irritatedly shout.
“My ego? You never stand for an option where you’re wrong, you’re worse!” He loudly counters.
“Goddamnit, you’re so stubborn!”
“You’re more stubborn!”
“Fuck you, Taehyung. You know what? Let’s just never have sex again, yeah?” You condescendingly finalize.
“Okay, fine, no sex.” Taehyung nonchalantly shrugs. “Suffer without it, you horny brat.”
Your jaw drops at his audacity, eyes burning with anger. “Fine!”
“Fine!” Taehyung yells after you, his eyes similarly simmering with frustration.
“Fine, no sex!”
“No sex!” He repeats.
“No sex, ever again, never ever!” You bark.
You stare at him, and he stares at you. Your blood boils with anger underneath your skin, but your cunt vibrates, grinding your teeth to manage the feeling. Taehyung remains unbothered with his folded arms and reprimanding eyes, but his constant swallowing gives him away.
Nobody says a word, nobody moves a muscle, and yet the tension enlivens whatever frustration is simmering, the energy absolutely palpable.
Holding your gaze, Taehyung grinds his teeth, biceps tensing underneath his dress shirt as he seriously contemplates something. He lets out a long, deep sigh afterwards, shaking his head. “Godamnit, so what if I lose…”
Suddenly, Taehyung kicks out his chair, abandoning his desk to walk over to you. He grabs your face faster than the speed of light, and crashes his lips against yours.
You’re winded, eyes wide with shock at the sheer force of his kiss, but the carnality excites you, wantonly swinging your arms around his neck. His eager hands glide down your body, feeling all of you in your thin babydoll before clasping the back of your thighs, encouraging you to jump.
You instantly moan into his mouth when you hop into his arms, having missed the taste of him. He’d just had something sweet; the hint of vanilla cream and strawberries explodes over your taste buds, slithering your tongue further into his mouth.
Taehyung shudders out a deep groan, swirling his tongue around yours when greedy lust overwhelms him. He becomes impatient, effortlessly carrying you towards his long corduroy couch. Taehyung quickly seats himself as he positions you over his lap, his hands greedily wrapping around, hungirly embracing you.
He presses your body into his, encouraging you to grind your hips over him. He pries away for air, breathily speaking against your lips. “Not wearing anything underneath, huh?”
You lightly chuckle, swiping your tongue over his pillowy lips. “Nothing at all.”
With mischief gleaming in his eyes, Taehyung attacks your lips, making out with you shamelessly as his hands travel downwards, suddenly cupping your bare ass. He squeezes you, even teases your damp core in a way that makes you jump in his arms, squeaking.
He heartily laughs before snatching the ends of your babydoll, his timbre husky when he speaks. “I really love this on you; a babydoll for my babydoll,” he pecks you, “but I’m tearing it off.”
Simultaneously, Taehyung strips off your nightwear in one swift motion, leaving you bare over his clothed figure. Your fingers grapple onto his hair as your pussy earns god-like friction over his dress pants, whimpering like a needy slut.
The feeling ignites an insatiable hunger inside you, biting down on Taehyung’s bottom lip. You tug on it, watching it bounce back to its place with dilated, ravenous eyes. His look of sheer bliss leaves you craving him like a drug, done with denying yourself your gorgeous husband.
Grabbing his shirt, you pin Taehyung down on his couch, his eyes excitedly shimmering when his back crashes into the cushions. “Fuck, baby…”
“I’ll go insane without you.” You unevenly breathe, fingers making quick work of his buttons. “Take this off, now.”
Taehyung doesn’t need to be told twice, ripping open his shirt as your hands visit his pesky belt, nearly ripping it off him. Your husband eagerly watches as you shove down his pants, smirking as he tucks a casual hand underneath his head. “Seems like someone couldn’t go any longer.”
Playfully narrowing your eyes at him, you suppress a laugh. “Says you of all people.”
For your revenge, you clasp Taehyung’s unoccupied hand and tuck it against your soaked, dripping pussy folds. You let out a broken shudder, bracing your hands against his strong, expansive chest. Taehyung curses underneath his breath, fascinated by your wetness.
“Shit, baby, you’re fucking soaked.” He coos. “Is this for me? Do I make my baby this wet?”
You obediently nod, lightly grinding your hips into his hand, adoring the way his gigantic palm easily envelopes your cunt. You bite your lip to suppress raunchy moans, Taehyung’s caramel-smooth voice gracing your ears. “Do this over my cock, baby. Put me inside, yeah?”
You mewl hearing his words, wrapping your palm around his erect member. You free him from the confines of his boxers, gushing brand new arousal when you feel how deliciously hard he is. His thick veins, his impressive girth, the delicious heft of him. Stroking his pulsing shaft, Taehyung melts underneath you; clearly you’re not the only one who’s been dying for sex.
“Seems like someone couldn’t go any longer.” You mock him.
“Fuck me, Taehyung.”
He lightly laughs at your wittiness, and without further ado, you elevate your hips, aligning him with your entrance before piercing yourself on his dick.
You gasp when he enters you, surprised by how large Taehyung feels. He’s always been big, but something about your recent promise of abstinence made Taehyung feel foreignly large, falling forward upon his body.
It’s imperative you stop, digging your nails into his chest when the ache harms you. “Fuck…”
Taehyung worriedly grips you. “What’s wrong, Princess?”
“You’re big… you’re so big, Taehyung.”You struggle to speak, breathing through the intrusion of his flesh.
“Shit, I feel too big after a while, don’t I?” He curses, his hands rubbing up and down your sides, soothing you. “Take what you can, Princess, only what you can.”
His gentle voice nearly waters your eyes, feeling your love for him meld with your incredible horniness. Your walls soak him in thereafter, as though Taehyung were returning home. The pain simmers long enough that pleasure explodes inside you, walls adjusting to his size. They pulse erratically, but adore the familiar insertion, welcoming him with open arms.
Once you’re entirely speared over Taehyung’s cock, animalistic grunts leave you both. Your body feels as though it’s on white hot fire, and Taehyung’s stomach contracts attempting to hold back his load, hungry eyes beaming up at you from below.
“Y/N, I swear to God…” He breathes, barely able to speak, throwing his head back to regain himself. “If you ride me right now, I’ll fill you with an entire fucking soccer team.”
Ligtly chuckling, you elevate your hips, slowly drawing him out of your sex just to slowly sink back over him. You both shudder with pleasure at the electrifying sensation, hormones raging, bodies eager for each other.
Taehyung’s tight groans drive your tenacity, slowly sliding his cock in and out of you until you become addicted to him, addicted to the feeling of him constantly entering and leaving you, filling the very end of you. His dick is akin to ecstasy, riding him as though nothing else could satiate you’re intense hunger.
You reach your hands back to clasp onto his thighs, letting your body bounce over his cock without shame. The drag of his flesh inside you feels earth-shattering, losing your mind to the explosive friction, the slippery, sloppy sliding.
Taehyung becomes obsessed with the erotic scene before him, greedy hands worshipping your jostling body, his tender words praising you for the goddess you are.
“Holy fuck, Y/N.” He groans with blown out eyes, gripping your maneuvering hips. “This so fucking hot, you literally drive me insane.”
Eating up his words, you are gyrating your hips, serving your clit the attention it deserves. This time you lean forward, fingers digging into Taehyung’s taut stomach as you relish in his perfectly shaped member, feeling his thick veins and throbbing meat serve you heaven on a silver platter.
Taehyung’s hand snakes up your body, lightly clasping around your neck. He listens to your moans heighten in pitch as he carefully grips your throat, watching your hips roll over his spasming meat.
“My fucking god,” he swallows, timbre deep and husky—needy. “You’re the most gorgeous woman on Earth.”
Simultaneously, Taehyung slips his fingers into your adjacent mouth, prompting you to swirl your tongue around his digits. Your moans become muffled as a result, eyes falling to your crazed husband beneath you. He eats up your fucked out expression, tears brimming your eyes as your orgasm deliciously simmers inside you, burning brightly between your thighs.
You suck his fingers, riding him like a Harley, so close to losing yourself in the throes of your pleasure, it’s hard to maintain your equilibrium. Your head is spinning, your body is aching, blood is rushing so rapidly inside you you can’t even manage to keep up—you’re only able to register your cunt smothering Taehyung’s cock as though it were fostering a symbiotic relationship.
Light-headedness plagues you before Taehyung suddenly rises from his laid position, drawing his fingers out of your mouth. He cautiously cradles your weak body against his front, protectively enveloping you in his warmth.
“Stay with me, baby.” Taehyung purrs, softly throbbing inside your sex. “I know it’s good, but don’t let it all rush to your head; you’ll have a sub drop, babygirl.” His loving voice resurfaces you, feeling him guide your chin downwards to find his eyes. “Stay awake for me—I need more of you.”
He casts some strands from your face as you deliriously nod, mimicking his calmer breaths. Once your breathing is more leveled, Taehyung’s gigantic hands weave around your ass. He grips you hard as he taked the wheel, controlling the tides of your sex, languidly, sensually fucking up into you.
You whimper, sighing as Taehyung masterfully maneuvers your hips downwards as he thrusts up, burrowing a home inside you. He continuously sheaths himself inside your velvety walls as you gasp against his mouth, suppressing your moans.
“Why are you being quiet, Princess?” He lightly reprimands, pecking your lips.
“Mrs. Choi… and Seo,” you moan, hiding your flushed face in his neck. “They’ll hear us.”
“Let them,” he growls in your ear, nibbling on the lobe. “Let them hear it; let them hear how good I fuck you.”
Tired of holding yourself back, you relax every limb in your body, letting yourself openly react to your husband’s godly love-making. Your breasts jostle as you bounce up and down his cock, skin slapping against skin, addicted to the heat of his body.
“God, how was I ever gonna survive without this, huh?” Taehyung groans, holding your body hostage as he jackhammers into you. “You and your perfect pussy? My pretty girl?”
You gasp for dear life when Taehyung pierces himself so deep inside you, you nearly scream. “Fuck-!” Your body’s vibrating, ecstasy coursing through your veins as you lose all sense of sanity, hands clutching his sturdy shoulder for dear life. “Taehyung, let me reverse cowgirl you, turn me around.” You breathily request.
Taehyung lets out a proud huff as he maneuvers you over him, positioning your back to face his front. You sigh out pronographically as he guides your hips over his cock this way. The leverage you gain is powerful, your palms grappling his knees to develop a crazy, pornographic pace over his dick.
You indulge in the angle change, freely bouncing as you please. His flesh constantly scrapes your frontal walls, losing your mind. Taehyung lets out a string of breathy curses, fucking you from underneath in accordance with you. You reach back for support, your husband instantly intertwining your fingers as you incline forward, and he reclines back, both of you fucking each other like horny bunnies.
Your salacious noises are endless, no doubt echoing throughout the house and reaching the working housekeepers in your home, but neither of you care when the sex was so god-tier, your orgasms feel as though they’ll be cosmic.
“Fuck, fuck fuck fuck, baby, slow down.” Taehyung warns you, hissing with pleasure. “I’m literally gonna cum, holy shit I can’t hold back.”
“Then don’t,” you coo, swiveling your hips over his perfect cock, toes curling with undeniable pleasure. “Fill me up, Taehyung. I meant what I said last night, I want your babies.”
“I meant what I said, too.” He suddenly tugs your back flush agains his front, embracing you from behind. He morphs his fast and hard thrusts into slow, deep strokes, moaning into your ear. “I’ll give you all the babies you want.”
You bite your lip as you whimper, hugging his hands around your stomach as he intimately fucks you, laying affectionate kisses across your naked shoulder. Your hand snakes into his hair behind you, sighing pleasurably as he kisses your pulse point, languidly making love to you.
“Tae… don’t drag this out.” You beg, gripping his locks. “I need to cum, it’s been too fucking long.”
“Yeah? Want me to make cum?” He huskily whispers, hands closing around your breasts to fondle them, seductively caressing your nipples. You jolt with white hot electricity, whimpering over him with a nod.
He suddenly lays a hand on your tit, lightly slapping it. “How many times do I have to tell you about words, Y/N?”
You shudder as essence oozes out of you, coating his throbbing dick. “Yes, Taehyung, please.”
You feel him smirk against your skin, suddenly gripping you. “Then you better hold on tight, babe.”
Swiftly, Taehyung lifts you up from the couch and shoves you against the coffee table in front of you, pinning your front to the frigid, cherry wood surface. It takes you some seconds to realize you’re bent over, ass out for him before he plunges back inside your pulsing pussy, grappling onto your hips.
Your fingers scratch the table as Taehyung delivers hard, rough thrusts from behind, fucking you with delicious ferality. He pleasures himself to the nines, grunting animalistically as he gives it to you. “God, your ass, Princess, I’m in love.”
You moan loudly, shoving your face into the table. “Fuck, Taehyung, my clit, please fucking touch my clit.”
Taehyugn doesn’t need repetition, slithering his hand towards your throbbing pearl and fondling it with tight circles, drawing tantalizing patterns. You practically screech, shivering with pleasure as he fucks you senseless, does you right in every possible way.
Your husband’s hips slam against yours with each thrust, each precise stroke coiling that wire inside you so, so tight, you’re crying out with unprecedented pleasure.
“Fuck, I need to see your face,” Taehyung breathes, releasing a throaty groan. “Let me see your pretty face when you moan like that, baby.”
Taehyung grabs where he must to turn you on your back, effortlessly man-handling you. He hands slam either side of you, now entangled in an incredibly intimate missionary position. Your legs automatically lock around Taehyung's waist, and his hands cradle the back of your thighs, spreading you wider.
He brokenly groans when he shoves himself deeper inside you, his face mere inches from yours. “Holy fucking shit, fuck…”
“Such a foul mouth, Mr. Kim.” You tease, voice lilting with a moan when he thrusts into you.
“Sex this nasty with a gorgeous wife like you can do that to a man.” He snarks, burrowing deeper to reach the end of you. Your eyes physically glimmer with wanton need as he strokes your fluttering sex, feeling your heart glow brighter which each delicious fuck. Taehyung hoists one of your legs up on his shoulder, cradling it to him as he becomes impossibly close, smothering your smaller body underneath. He cleverly rolls his hips, serving both himself and your throbbing clit.
You moan against his mouth, Taheyung relishing in your breathy little reactions. His other hand slips underneath your head to cushion you, holding you as though you were the most precious thing in the world to him. His beautiful coffee irises pierce yours, ensnaring your heart.
“Princess…” he breathes, grunting as he rocks his hips. “I love you; I love making love to you.”
Your chest explodes with colours, eyes revealing your emotion as you keep his gaze.
“That’s why… I like having sex. It’s not about getting my dick wet… or blowing my load in you…” he shudders out a painful moan as he slows down his thrusts, no doubt pulsing with his release. “I love feeling your skin on mine, being intimate with you, feeling our bodies move like they belong together.”
You swallow back tears; something about the sincerity in his voice softens you, puddy in his hands.
“I love making you feel good, I love seeing the pleasure in your eyes, the way your body craves me. I love it all, baby, I love you.” He affectionately coos, passionately shoving himself inside you. “And I want us… to have a baby. I want a little me and you running around, I want to have a family with you, to share my life with you.”
It’s no surprise moisture floods your vision, sniffling it away. “Taehyung…”
“So please, never think I’m only here for the sex. I’m here for you, I’m in this because I love you, Y/N.” His tone seeps with saccharine sweet truth, watching his coffee orbs softly swirl. “And I wanna show it to you like this, by making love to you—making love for hours and hours until you finally grasp how I feel about you.”
Emotions clogs your chest with undeniable tears, narrowly able to manage them before a sudden long, deep stroke of his ultimately unravels you—both physically and emotionally. Your hands clutch his bread-like cheeks, eyes glistening with genuity. “I love you more, Tae.” You coo. “I love making love with you, I want to share a family with you, too.” You speak from the heart, feeling every cell in your body vibrate with such intense arousal, you suddenly erupt with an earth-shattering orgasm, nearly blacking out.
This feels far too powerful compared to a regular orgasm, though, left completely winded, body jelly-like. It’s only when you feel something incredibly wet dribbling down your thighs do you sense what’s really happening.
“Fuck, oh fucking hell… baby, you just squirted.” You hear your husband enthusiastically voice. “Oh that’s sexy, that’s so fucking sexy.” Taehyung’s voice is rich with fascination, his cock picking up the pace inside you. “Oh shit, I’m coming, I can’t hold it back—”
“Come, Taehyung, come inside me.” You sweeten your tone, sloppily kissing him. “Come inside my tight pussy, baby.”
And Taehyung paints your walls entirely white with his hot, abundant cum, letting out a feral grunt that indicates the sheer size of his load. He hisses as he slowly fucks you, watching your fluids mix together between your bodies.
“Shit…” he lightly curses, viewing your chest constantly rise and fall, your legs terribly trembling. He gains enough viable strength to draw out of you, your cunt immediately leaking out his seed, but Taehyung’s quick to swipe it back inside you, tucking his palm against your battered hole.
“Soak my cum back in, baby.” Taehyung softly requests. “Let me feel you do it.”
Following alon , you squeeze your walls as firmly as possible, letting him feel your fluttering pussy.
“Fuck,” he breathes, fascinated as he watches. You’re barely conscious, only able to register his words and movements, but your surroundings are fading, limbs utterly spent.
You nearly fall over when you attempt to rise, Taehyung catching you in his arms with panic. “Woah, woah, are you okay, Princess?”
Taehyung seats himself back on his couch, cradling you in his sheltering arms over his lap. He curls your hair behind your ear, analyzing your sleepy, exhausted features. “Was it too much, baby?”
You can’t even speak, simply shaking your head—only one thing remains fresh on your mind. “Let’s… never… do that again.”
Fondly chuckling at your weary state, Taehyung presses his lips to your temple, affectionately kissing you. “Never again, babe.”
Smiling at that, you cozy into his chest, letting sleep drift you away from the real world. You’re almost a happy goner when you hear your husband’s rich, caramel voice, his palm rubbing your back.
“So… wanna go for round two?”
You pry an eye open, shooting him a puzzled look. “Wh-what?
Taehyung snorts. “Round two, babe, in our sex dungeon. Did you really think you could make me go sexless for a week and I wouldn’t want to fuck you for hours?”
Swallowing, your eyes soften with pleading. “Taehyung, you’re insane!”
“What’s insane is that I didn’t get to make love to you for 6 days,” he counters, grabbing your chin to lift it, his amused eyes meeting yours. “Now I’m going to make up for each day I didn’t get to, starting with a little surprise.” He suddenly leans down towards your ear, letting his lips ever-so-faintly brush you.
“I’m edging you with the very same vibrator you dared touch yourself with.” He grits, fierce eyes piercing your very soul. “And we’re gonna do it for each and every time you disobeyed me.”
Choking on air, your eyes widen, begging for Taehyung to grant you mercy, but he only shoots back an evil, devilish grin, spelling your inevitable doom—you’re not surviving this at all.
Your erotic, needy moans resound around your home later that day as Taehyung deliciously punishes you, bouncing off the walls to even reach your silent listeners downstairs.
Mrs. Choi and Seo can’t help but giggle together as they vacuum the first level, their cheeks coloured a bright red.
“My my, what young love they have.” Mrs. Choi light-heartedly jokes.
Mrs. Seo snickers in response, knowingly smiling. “I have a feeling they’ll stay young for a long, long time.”

domain: literature