#shadowkoo

“Oh my…” you say to yourself as you come across a striking profile on KinkLink, the newest hookup app that you finally gave in and downloaded a few days ago. His profile cover is a selfie taken from a lower angle that lets you see every groove and ripple across his toned stomach and chest. But, despite being ridiculously hot, it’s the ghostface mask covering his face in every photo you scroll through that steals your attention, causing a wave of wetness to settle in your core.

You’ve always had what some would call a sick fantasy when it comes to masked men…

It’s often that you touch yourself to the idea of a masked stranger fucking you while nearly strangling you to death. And now the universe seems to have given you this gift.

“Fuck meeee,” you whine, as you get to the last photo. It’s one where he’s naked, all but for the mask. Your eyes trail down the deep ‘V’ leading down to where, what you could only imagine, would be where his massive cock is. However his hands hide his goods, only barely showing some of the dark hair down there, which purposely teases you just enough to leave you craving more.

You swipe to like, and match instantly. With no shame, you open the chat with ‘ScreamAndCream99' and start the conversation.

⚪️ Nice screen name, very punny. Any plans tonight?

The ‘read’ receipt shows soon after, and you watch the little dots move as he types out his reply.

🟢 You, apparently. DTF, I assume?

⚪️ Only if you wear the mask

🟢 Of course, sweetheart. That’s a very important rule of mine.

⚪️ I see lol any others I should be aware of?

🟢 Several, curious?

⚪️ Maybe just a little…

🟢 Rule 1, give me your address. Rule 2, leave a window unlocked but don’t tell me which one. Rule 3, go to sleep naked. Rule 4, use the safeword ‘phantom’ if you get spooked, and perhaps I’ll consider stopping…

Your heart races, but before you have time to reply, he sends another set of messages.

🟢 No promises though

🟢 Still DTF after knowing that?

⚪️ Good thing I don’t spook easily

You send your address next, your heart nearly beating out of your chest when your phone vibrates with his reply.

🟢 Good girl

You’re half asleep when you think you hear something–someone–but after sitting up and listening intently, you chalk it up to your imagination and excitement, before lying down and drifting back to sleep.

Mingi watches from the dark corner of your room as your breathing settles again. He’s been here for a little over an hour, watching through the holes in his mask as you slept peacefully. Blissfully unaware of any danger. An easy target for his taking.

You looked right past him when you sat up moments ago. It took nearly all of his self-restraint to stay still as your blankets fell away from your upper half, exposing your breasts and the soft mound of your nipples underneath the small amount of moonlight bleeding in through your window. When you thought you heard something in the distance, they hardened into little round, protruding peaks, and his length hardened simultaneously.

Maybe target isn’t the right word.

You want this. You initiated this.

Willing participant might be the better choice of words…

You stir in your sleep once again, this time rolling from your side onto your back.

It’s time. Mingi grips the knife handle tightly before taking a step closer to your bed.

Slowly, he pulls the covers away from your body, and is pleased to see that your legs are already spread for him. With his free hand, he drags two fingers through your folds. You’re already weeping for him, so warm…so inviting…as his fingers sink into your core.

He can’t help but groan. “Mmm, I can’t fucking wait to have my fun with you.”

Your eyes flash open, hearing his deep voice and becoming aware of the sensation between your legs. You gasp, coming face to face with the masked, shirtless man, and attempt to sit up.

Mingi’s quick though and lifts his other hand, pressing the knife up against your neck. The sharp blade stings from the pressure, but he’s practiced enough to avoid cutting…anymore. It’s just enough to partially strain the breathing pattern to scare his usual victims.

You’re different, though. He doesn’t scare you, and somehow that turns him on even more.

“Hi, sweetheart,” he says, voice dripping with danger. “I’ve got big plans for you tonight. I hope you know what you signed up for.” His fingers curl into you faster now, and your eyelids flutter closed as the heat grows in your center.

“Hi, Mr. Ghostface. Are you gonna give it to me good tonight?” You ask, voice raspy from the lack of air, with a devilishly innocent look on your face. Your hands slide up his bare biceps, nails digging into his flesh as you continue speaking, “I want to be fucked. I want to be ruined. I want to be used. I’ve been so well behaved, and no one can seem to give me what I want, what I deserve.”

Jesus Christ. Whose fucking bedroom did he walk into, and how can he sign up to stay here?

“Be careful what you ask for, baby. My self-control is already hanging on by a very thin thread,” he breathes, his cock straining against the front of his pants.

“Should I find some scissors, then?” you quip with a teasing smile that spreads across your lips as you open your legs wider. One of your own hands trails down between them, joining his.

He watches, completely stunned, as you collect some of your slick before smearing it across your clit, rubbing in small circles as you work yourself up. The divine sound of your little pants echoes in the room.

“Well, are you going to take over, or would you rather watch me get myself off?”

His eyes burn into yours once he’s come out of your spell. Yeah right.

“Get that fucking hand away from your pretty little cunt right now,” Mingi demands.

You obey, bringing your fingers to your mouth to lick them clean, eyes locked on his as you suck off your natural dew.

The final piece of the thread snaps when you release them with a satisfying ‘pop,’ and his entire demeanor changes.

Tossing the knife aside–as it won’t be needed–he works to remove his pants, then towers over your frame. Your mouth involuntarily drops seeing the size of him. He's enormous; his thick tip is probably similar in size to your closed fist.

Another wave of wetness washes through your folds, barely in enough time before he lines himself up. Both of your moans intermingle when he runs his cockhead up and down your slit.

He does it again, and again, and again. Teasing you. Taunting you. Making you lose your fucking mind.

Your body shudders as his leaking tip 'accidentally' rubs up against your clit.

“Rule five,” he grunts, before lowering his length and slamming into you, finally. All the air in your lungs escapes as he splits you open, taking up all the available space inside of you, forcing you to stretch for him. “This cunt is all mine for tonight. You’re not allowed to touch it.”

“Feels…so…good,” you mewl, sucking in a breath as the last few inches push into you.

Without any warning, your masked stranger jerks his hips back, leaving you feeling empty before he thrusts back in. His pace picks up as he pounds into you over and over, driving you further up the bed each time from his insane power.

Your panting quickens, feeling the coil inside you getting dangerously close to unraveling. You clench around him, and panic hits you.

“No,” you whine. “I can’t come yet.” Your inner walls clench again helplessly, despite your words.

“Yes, you can, baby. Come all over me as I tear this pussy apart. Let me feel you lose control.” His words don’t help your situation.

“I don’t want this to be over already!”

He lowers his face to your ear, his whisper slightly muffled because of the mask. “I’m nowhere near finished with you. In fact, later you’ll be begging for me to stop.”

“P-Promise?” you mewl, on the edge, fighting so hard to keep your first orgasm at bay.

He leans back, his pace slowing intentionally as his hand wipes a stray tear from your eye. “I promise, now come for me.”

As he speaks, pleasure courses through your blood.

Mingi is mesmerized by the way your body convulses below him. He grits his teeth, keeping his own release in check as he fucks you through yours.

“Oh my g-god,” you cry out as he returns to his original unforgiving pace, refusing to give you a break.

“What did I say? We’re just getting started.” Lifting a leg onto his shoulder, he takes you from a deeper angle. One that has his tip hitting your cervix. Your eyes widen as the next orgasm already begins building.

“I think you deserve a necklace for being so obedient. What do you think, sweetheart?”

You nod, unable to form words, and his hands wrap around your neck. Both thumbs apply just enough pressure to the right spot so you see stars from the lack of oxygen.

“That’s it,” he groans, “You’re gonna come again, aren’t you?"

You don't even have to answer; your face shows it. The way you bite your lip in response urges him to go harder.

"I knew you were just a sick slut, needy for someone’s cock to stretch you out. No one sane would allow a stranger to break into their home and fuck them like this.”

His grip around your neck tightens.

“But you love it like this. You’re just as nasty as I am. And you take me so fucking well. Look at us.”

His grip around your neck loosens some, allowing you to glance down to where your bodies meet. You moan at the sight of his beast of a cock disappearing inside of you with ease. A bulge appears in your lower belly each time he thrusts.

“See me inside of you, filling you up?”

Unable to look away, your walls flutter around his length. Heat pools once again, this time squirting out of you uncontrollably. You toss your head back and grip the sheets between your fingers, knowing you’re on the verge of coming.

Mingi chuckles as you struggle to find a grasp on reality, but this is a fight you won’t win.

“You’re going to come again, even if you don’t want to,” Mingi sneers, releasing one of his hands from your neck, taking it to your clit. His thumb draws a few circles before pulling back to curl it and his middle finger together. He flicks your swollen bundle of nerves, and the sensation sends shockwaves through you. The pain soon turns into pleasure as he squeezes it between his fingers, and you’re done.

You scream out, your next orgasm crashing over you whether you want it to or not. This one coats his cock in a thick layer of your slick, the excess spilling out onto your sheets, leaving a damp spot.

That visual, along with the obscene sounds of skin smacking skin, has him teetering on the edge.

“I want you to come in me. Please come in me, please fill me up,” you beg as more tears fall. "I need it so bad. Please give it to me!"

“Fuck!” Mingi grunts, his lower abs tensing as his seed shoots into you. He fucks it further inside, wanting to claim every inch of you with his cum. His cockhead pulsates between your walls, which shudder around him one final time before you pass out from the intensity of it all.

Huh, that’s a first, he thinks.

You’re still breathing, so he’s less concerned. He’d be disappointed if he fucked you to death. His eyes scan over your face as his cock twitches inside you again, shooting out the last sting of his release.

He pulls himself out of you and takes off his mask, rubbing a hand over his sweaty face.

You gradually blink back into consciousness, and he smiles, revealing a gorgeous set of teeth against a beautiful mouth and an even more stunning face. You blink a few more times as you wake up, but your room is now empty.

If it wasn’t for the mess left between your legs, you might have wondered if this was all just a really good dream…

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The bathroom door opens suddenly, and a pissed-off-looking Jaemin is standing there. His eyes drift to you sitting on the bathroom sink with your dress hiked up, then to Jungkook, standing in between your open, exposed legs, with his jeans loosened around his waist.

Jaemin’s face flushes crimson, the fury unmistakable as his eyes lock onto the scene unfolding before him. His fists clench at his sides, every muscle in his body tensing with barely contained rage.

Across from him, Jungkook lets out a nervous laugh, the tension crackling in the air around them.

“Oh, brother….”

𝑶𝒏𝒆 𝒚𝒆𝒂𝒓 𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒓…

Jungkook taps incessantly on your shoulder, not stopping until you switch your attention from the view from the small window to him and take out your airpods.

“God, this flight feels like it’s never going to end. How much longer?” Jungkook whines, shifting in the seat next to you.

“We only have an hour left. Suck it up,” you reply, popping your airpods back in and restarting your music.

He gives you that classic puppy-dog face he always uses when he’s not getting enough of your attention.

You sigh, taking them out again. “What?” you ask, raising an eyebrow when he still says nothing. Before he can answer you, the overhead speaker crackles to life as the flight attendant makes an announcement.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we will begin our descent into Las Vegas shortly. Please make any final trips to the lavatories before returning to your seats, fasten your seatbelts, raise your tray tables, and ensure your seat backs are in the upright and locked positions.”

You're headed to Vegas for a post–college graduation celebration for Jaemin, Jungkook, and Jaehyun. It was originally supposed to be a guys’ trip until they found out you were coming. Then, suddenly, everyone invited their girlfriends. You didn’t mind, though. Honestly, you only wanted to come because you didn’t trust Jaemin and Jungkook not to get into another fight.

Jungkook had been unbelievably sweet the first time, he took everything from Jaemin without throwing a single punch back. He knew it was against the bro code to date you, sleep with you, or even think about you. You were so off-limits, yet he couldn’t resist you.

Once Jaemin finally cooled off, he and Jungkook talked things out after a month of silence. Since then, things have been smooth for the most part. Just a couple of minor arguments over dumb stuff, like best friends tend to have.

Still, you can’t shake the feeling that this trip has disaster written all over it. That’s why you were so dead-set on coming along. Jungkook caved first; he’s never been good at saying no to you. Jaemin agreed the next day, realizing that if Jungkook was bringing a girl, then he had an excuse to invite Kira, the girl he’s secretly in love with. And not wanting to be the odd one out, Jaehyun decided to invite his not-so-sneaky link along too.

“Will you come to the bathroom with me?” Jungkook asks, already rising from his seat, clearly expecting you to follow without question.

You blink at him. “What for?”

He doesn’t bother answering, and instead throws a look over his shoulder that makes your stomach flip.

With a sigh, you unbuckle and trail after him toward the back of the plane. He stops outside the lavatory and taps the door, eyes then noticing the small green indicator light that reads Vacant.

Glancing around to make sure no one’s watching, he quickly opens the door and ushers you inside. He slips in after you, locking the door behind him.

You’re immediately squished together, your back nearly hitting the tiny sink.

“What are you doing?” you whisper, annoyed and slightly breathless. “Both of us can’t fit in here.”

“I need you,” he murmurs, eyes dark and intense.

“Now?” you hiss. “You couldn’t wait until we’re in the luxurious king-sized bed that’s waiting for us?”

He leans in, brushing his lips along your neck. “I always need you,” he breathes. “I always want you. I always crave you.”

He presses hot, desperate kisses into your skin, moaning like he’s been touch-starved for days as your fingers tangle in his hair. His breath stutters against your neck when you tug just a little, pulling him closer.

“C’mon,” he murmurs, lips brushing your ear. “Don’t you want to join the Mile High Club? Now’s the perfect chance…”

His hands drift lower, fingers teasing the waistband of your sweatpants with maddening slowness.

You roll your eyes, breath hitching. “And what if we get caught? Then we’re joining the No-Fly List instead.”

But before you can talk yourself out of it, his fingers dip between your thighs, and your argument dies in your throat.

Your back hits the mirror as he kisses you hungrily, all lips and tongue. The cramped space is forgotten the second he slips two fingers inside you, teasing you with shallow thrusts and curling them to hit your sweet spot.

“Jungkook,” you mewl, clutching his shirt to pull him closer, needing more.

“Tell me what you want, baby,” he murmurs against your lips, his fingers now circling your clit, taunting you for what’s to come.

“Please fuck me,” you breathe, eyes glazed. You're already too far gone to care about consequences.

That’s all it takes. In one swift movement, he yanks your pants down, followed by his own. Wasting no time, he buries his thick cock deep inside you.

You bite your lip to keep from crying out as he starts to move, fast and rough, rocking into you over and over. Thank god you’re in the air, where the engines are loud and the small bumps of turbulence cover up any noises coming from the small space you two occupy.

“Oh my god,” you gasp, as he adjusts his hips to a new angle that has you on the verge of coming undone.

Jungkook is mid-thrust when someone starts aggressively knocking on the door.

Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang.

You freeze. He doesn’t.

“Ignore them, baby,” he growls into your ear, voice thick with lust. “I can’t stop now. Not until I come in this sweet little cunt of yours.”

His pace doesn’t falter as he speaks, hips slamming into yours.

“Fuck, I’m so hard for you. You’re dripping for me, so tight and so perfect. You hear that?” he grunts as he bottoms out again. “That wet little pussy’s begging for it. You’re such a cock-hungry slut, look at you.”

You moan, vision blurring, every filthy word driving you closer to the edge.

“I can feel you gripping me,” he pants. “You gonna come, baby? You want me to make you come all over my cock?”

You nod frantically, unable to form words. Everything in you is coiled tight, seconds from unraveling.

Your body arches against him as waves of pleasure crash through you, every nerve lit up, every muscle trembling. You clamp around him, moaning his name as your orgasm rips through you.

Jungkook doesn’t stop. He groans against your neck, fucking you through the aftershocks, his pace stuttering as he loses control.

“Fuck–” he chokes out, hips jerking as he buries himself deep one last time. His release shoots into you in hot, pulsing streaks, his whole body tensing as he moans your name one last time.

When it’s finally over, you gather yourself with a flushed face and shaky hands. Jungkook presses one last kiss to your temple before using some toilet paper to wipe his come that’s leaking out of you. You both try to straighten your clothes in the tiny mirror before unlocking the door to escape.

After opening the door, you’re met by the impatient glare of a teenage girl.

“I’m so sorry,” you mumble, sliding past her quickly. And then your heart drops.

Standing directly behind her, arms crossed and jaw tight, is your brother.

Jaemin stares at you both for a beat, his expression unreadable. Then he mutters, “God, you two act like newlyweds—fucking everywhere all the time.”

You can practically feel Jungkook smirk beside you. Cheeks burning, you drag him back to your aisle before he says something that would escalate the ordeal.

Turning your head back around once seated, you make eye contact with your brother who’s face looks just as pissed off. Like he’s silently calculating whether joining the mile-high version of Fight Club would be worth the federal charges.

The first few nights in Vegas were a blur of flashing lights and endless drinks. You danced until your feet ached and woke up with memories that felt like a dream. Last night was a well-needed break. The group opted for a low-key evening, which involved a quick dinner, a few drinks by the resort pool, and an early night to recharge.

Today, you’re still taking it easy. Lounging in the private pool that wraps around your suite, a hidden oasis high above the Vegas strip. The sun is warm on your skin, the water cool against your lower half as you lean on the edge and take in the view.

You close your eyes, breathing in the stillness, until the balcony door slides open.

“Where is everyone? All the rooms are empty.” Jungkook asks as he steps out, towel slung around his neck, sweat still clinging to his post-gym glow.

You tilt your head toward him without opening your eyes, resting your head on your arms. “Jaemin and Kira went to brunch earlier. And Jaehyun’s taking Sophia shopping as a way to make up for flirting with the hostess last night.”

He chuckles, stripping out of his gym clothes and easing into the water beside you.

“I told everyone we’d meet in the lobby at 10. DJ Johnny doesn’t go on until 11, so we’ve got plenty of time to get to the club.”

He hums in agreement, arms sliding around your waist as he pulls you close. For a moment, the two of you just float there in silence, the city stretching below and the desert sun catching the water in shimmering flecks.

“You look happy,” he says softly, his eyes scanning your face.

“I am happy,” you reply, smiling up at him.

He kisses you lightly at first. It’s sweet and unhurried, like he’s savoring this moment with you. But then it shifts. His lips grow firmer, more insistent. The hand on your waist slides lower, fingers pressing into your hip as his tongue parts your lips. The kiss deepens, turning molten. Your body responds instantly, pressing into him as heat begins to build beneath the surface of your skin.

His mouth trails down your neck as he pushes you gently against the pool’s edge. The water laps around you as his hands roam, exploring you, teasing you beneath the surface. You gasp when his fingers find their way between your thighs, and he smirks against your skin.

“Think you can handle me? I’m fully recharged and overflowing with energy,” you tease with a grin.

“You know the gym doesn’t drain me. If anything, it just pumps me up,” he murmurs, voice low and full of promise as he presses his hard length against you. “Think you can handle me?”

You chuckle, wrapping your legs around his waist and pulling him in for another kiss. He pulls the material of your bathing suit bottoms to the side before thrusting into you, the water adding a slow, gliding rhythm to every thrust. The city sparkles behind him, but you can’t take your eyes off his face.

“I love you,” you moan, breathless, pulling his face back to yours for another scorching kiss. Your lips crash together, tongues tangling, bodies clinging beneath the water like you’re trying to melt into each other.

“Let me show you how much I love you,” Jungkook growls against your mouth.

He grips your waist, lifting you just enough to slip out of you, only to slam back in, hard and deep. The water ripples violently around you as your hips meet with perfect timing repeatedly. You toss your head back with a gasp, eyes fluttering shut.

A low groan escapes him as he watches you come undone. One hand braces behind your back, the other reaches up to tug at the strings tied behind your neck. With a practiced flick, your bikini top slips loose and floats off beside you, forgotten.

His eyes darken as he stares at your bare chest, his mouth instantly descending to taste you. Jungkook leaves hot, wet kisses trailing over sensitive skin as he sucks a nipple between his lips.

You're lost in it, lost in him, until a familiar voice breaks your spell.

“Oh, shit,” Jaemin curses, immediately turning away, hand thrown up to shield his eyes. “What the fuck, you guys? Seriously?!”

You shriek, instinctively trying to cover yourself, but Jungkook barely flinches, holding you firmly against him, knowing that his broad shoulders hide you from your brother’s view.

From inside the suite, Kira peeks out, drawn by Jaemin’s raised voice. Her eyes widen the second she takes in the scene of you straddling Jungkook in the pool, easily able to figure out what you guys are up to.

Moving quickly to Jaemin’s arm with both hands. “Let’s go,” she says brightly, dragging him back toward the suite. “Give them some privacy.”

Jaemin mutters under his breath, still scowling. “Fucking hell. I take it back, you’re worse than newlyweds. At this point, you’re like like fucking horny teenagers.”

He throws a glare over his shoulder. “Jungkook! Don’t make me fuck you up again, bro. I will! Geez!”

“Oh, come on, Jaemin,” Kira laughs, tugging him away before his temper flares. “Don’t be such a cockblock. See you two later!” She shoots you a wink just before disappearing inside, her voice echoing faintly, still teasing Jaemin for his unlucky streak of catching you two.

You make a mental note to buy her a thank-you drink tonight.

But that thought vanishes the second Jungkook thrusts up into you again, dragging you back into the moment. The water splashes around you with every movement, slapping softly against the tiled edges of the pool.

Your head falls back, mouth parted in a silent moan as your body clenches around him again. And this time, there’s no holding back.

You’re not exactly sure how you ended up here.

When you and Jungkook slipped out of the club earlier tonight, ditching your friends in a whirlwind of whispered giggles and stolen touches, you figured it would end in another wild quickie somewhere. And to be fair, it started that way. He had his hands all over you in the back of the taxi, his mouth on your neck as the Strip blurred by.

But then, the car dropped you both off at the far end of Las Vegas Boulevard, where you ran straight into a group of strangers who swore they’d partied with you on your first night in town. Whether they were right or not didn’t really matter; they bought you shots like old friends and kept them coming, one after the other, until the world tilted sideways.

And somehow...you agreed to Jungkook’s crazy idea.

Now you’re standing inside a chapel bathed in neon pink light, next to a man in a bedazzled Elvis costume who smells faintly of old cologne and too much hairspray. Jungkook is holding both of your hands in his, his fingers warm and solid around yours. His grin is so wide it practically splits his face in half, his eyes crinkling with drunken joy as he watches the impersonator read the vows.

“Do you, Jeon Jungkook, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?” Elvis says in a dramatic drawl.

“I do,” Jungkook replies without hesitation, his voice thick with emotion, and maybe tequila. “With my whole heart.”

He slips a thin silver ring onto your finger. One he bought just minutes ago from a display stand outside. It’s slightly too big and also a little tacky, but somehow perfect.

Now it’s your turn. You blink up at him, your heart thudding wildly in your chest.

“I do,” you say softly, biting back a giddy laugh. “With my whole heart.”

“I now pronounce you husband and wife,” the Elvis impersonator declares with flair, throwing out his arms. “You may kiss!”

Jungkook’s hands envelop your face as he kisses you, sealing your fate.

The handful of drunk couples that are waiting for their turn cheer loudly as Jungkook lifts you straight off your feet. You wrap your arms around his neck, squealing as he carries you bridal-style down the narrow aisle and out of the chapel, laughing the whole way.

“I can’t believe we just did that,” you say breathlessly, still laughing as you cup his jaw and guide him into another messy kiss.

“I can’t either,” he says against your lips, eyes shining. “But god, I’m so ridiculously happy right now.”

He sets you down and pulls you close, forehead pressed to yours.

“Mrs. Jeon Jungkook, you make me so fucking happy. I love you, baby. So much.”

You can’t stop smiling and neither can he.

The next morning, your head feels like it’s still spinning. The light bleeding through the hotel curtains is too bright, stabbing straight into your skull. You groan and crack an eye open, trying to piece together where you are, and more importantly, what the hell happened last night.

Bits and pieces flash into your memory.

The pounding bass of the DJ set. Clinking shot glasses. Jungkook’s laughter against your ear, both of you cracking up about something that felt hilarious at the time. Though now you can’t recall a single detail.

You shift beneath the sheets, rubbing your eyes, when something cool and metallic catches your attention.

You pause, blinking.

There’s a ring on your finger.

A ring.

You yank your hand back and jump upright, heart now thudding in your chest like it’s trying to break free. In your sudden panic, your elbow smacks straight into Jungkook’s face.

“Ow! What the–” he groans, rolling onto his side. “Babe, what was that for?”

“Oh my god,” you whisper, scrambling out of bed.

Still half-drunk, half-hungover, and fully spiraling, you make a beeline for the bathroom and immediately hurl the remnants of last night into the toilet.

Your knees hit the cold tile as you clutch the porcelain bowl, your mind spinning even faster than your stomach.

Jungkook is at your side a moment later. Sleepy, shirtless, and concerned, he crouches beside you without saying a word, gently pulling your hair back and rubbing slow, soothing circles across your spine.

“Breathe,” he murmurs. “It’s okay. Just breathe.”

Once you’re fairly certain your insides are empty, you lean back on your heels, wiping your mouth with a towel and groaning.

“I feel like death,” you mumble.

“You look beautiful,” Jungkook says with a lazy smile, though his eyes are scanning your face carefully. Searching. Bracing.

He stands, reaching into the shower to turn on the water. Steam starts to fill the bathroom as he undresses and steps inside, then turns to hold out his hand for you.

You hesitate.

Your eyes drop to the ring on your finger again, then flick back to his face.

He doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t need to. You can tell he’s watching you closely, reading every micro-expression, seeing if you have any doubt. There’s no trace of regret in his eyes, but there’s a quiet question behind them.

What are you feeling? And are we okay?

You reach for his hand and step in beside him.

You wash up quickly, letting the hot water rinse away the hangover haze clinging to your skin. Feeling clean doesn’t solve everything, but it helps ground you.

After drying off and throwing on fresh clothes, you sit on the edge of the bed and breathe for a moment. Jungkook's quiet, giving you space, but you can still feel his eyes on you.

Then, finally, he breaks the silence.

“C’mon,” he says gently. “Let’s get some breakfast and cure your hangover before you spiral again. I got a text from Jaemin, they’re waiting for us in the lobby if we want to join everyone for brunch.”

You nod, grabbing your phone and purse before the two of you leave the suite and step into the elevator. Oh god…how are you going to tell everyone…

Jungkook speaks again once the elevator doors close. “Well, last night happened.”

You exhale, almost laughing. “Yeah. I guess it did.”

You start picking at your fingernails, nerves creeping in again as the elevator begins its descent. Jungkook notices instantly.

“Hey,” he says, catching your hands in his. “Don’t do that. Don’t second-guess this. I’m happy. Let’s be happy.”

You look up at him. He gives you that soft smile, the one that always manages to settle your heart.

He pulls you into a hug, wrapping you up like he’s trying to shield you from the chaos of the outside world.

“It’s not how I imagined it, not even close,” he says, resting his chin on your shoulder. “But you know what? I love that I get to call you my wife now. I like that I’m your husband.”

He leans back just enough to nuzzle into your cheek, his lips brushing against your skin in a quiet, reassuring gesture.

And for a moment, your worries melt away. Because if nothing else, you’ve got him. And maybe that’s more than enough.

His hand squeezes your waist as the elevator descends, and you feel his fingers trailing lower, skimming the hem of your skirt with intent.

“Jungkook…” you murmur, glancing toward the mirrored walls, but he’s already moving, slipping his hand beneath the fabric like he owns you, because, well, after last night…he kind of does. And you kind of like that.

His fingers find your heat instantly, and your breath catches in your throat.

“So wet already,” he hums against your ear, voice low and dangerous. “You want to get caught, don’t you?”

You press your back against the elevator wall, heart hammering as his thumb begins to circle your clit.

It feels so good that you can barely stand. The pressure is building fast, your thighs trembling as he slides two fingers inside you.

“Fuck,” you whisper, eyes fluttering shut as he curls them just right.

“Don’t close your eyes,” he says, nipping your earlobe. “Look at yourself. Watch how fucking wrecked you look when I touch you.”

Your gaze finds the mirrored wall. You see your parted lips, the way your chest rises and falls, the dark hunger in Jungkook’s eyes as he watches you unravel.

He moves faster, fucking you with his fingers, thumb pressed tight to your clit.

“Scream my name, baby. Who makes you feel this good? Who makes you come uncontrollably?”

“Jungkook!” you cry out before you can think.

He sinks his teeth into your neck, not hard enough to hurt but enough to make you gasp.

“Wrong,” he growls. “Try again.”

“M–my husband,” you stammer, on the verge of falling apart. “My husband makes me come uncontrollably.”

“That’s right,” he whispers, voice thick with pride and lust. “That’s fucking right, wife. Now come all over these fingers. You’ve earned it.”

And you do, trembling, legs barely holding you up, biting down a scream as wave after wave crashes over you.

As the elevator nears the lobby, he slowly pulls his hand from between your thighs, sucking one of his fingers into his mouth like he’s tasting the best thing he's ever had before returning it for more.

“Wow,” you pant, trying to catch your breath. “Being married already has its perks.”

He smirks, using his other hand to brush a strand of hair from your face. “Baby, we haven’t even started collecting the benefits.”

The elevator dings softly as it reaches the lobby, and the doors slide open with an almost theatrical slowness, just in time to reveal a very pissed-off-looking Jaemin standing directly in front of you.

Judging by the way his jaw is clenched and the murderous glare aimed at the two of you, he definitely heard the tail end of that little scene. Probably more.

“You’re married?!” Jaemin’s voice echoes through the lobby, loud enough to turn heads. A few bystanders pause mid-step, curious and mildly entertained by the drama unfolding in front of the elevators.

Thankfully, he hasn’t seemed to notice Jungkook’s hand still slick from where it was between your thighs before he reluctantly slips it away.

Jungkook glances over his shoulder, letting out a sheepish laugh. “Well, the honeymoon’s off to a strong start. Guess your newlyweds joke actually fits now…”

Jaemin takes a slow, threatening step forward and Jungkook tenses beside you, instinctively bracing for whatever’s coming next, whether it’s a punch, a lecture, or both. But when his eyes flick back to yours, and he sees the worry written all over your face, his shoulders square a little more.

Whatever’s coming, he knows it’s all worth it.

“Oh, baby…”

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Schedule: Oct 1 - 31

DAY 1 - 𝖌𝖍𝖔𝖘𝖙𝖋𝖆𝖈𝖊 ↳ mingi (atz) + masks

DAY 2 - 𝖌𝖗𝖎𝖒 𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖕𝖊𝖗 ↳ mingyu (svt) + fuck or die

DAY 3 - 𝖘𝖈𝖎𝖘𝖘𝖔𝖗𝖍𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖘 ↳ jungkook (bts) + knife play

DAY 4 - 𝖇𝖊𝖊𝖙𝖑𝖊𝖏𝖚𝖎𝖈𝖊 ↳ bang chan (skz) + name kink

DAY 5 - 𝖎𝖓𝖈𝖚𝖇𝖚𝖘 ↳ hongjoong (atz) + somnophilia

DAY 6 - 𝖒𝖔𝖓𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖍𝖚𝖓𝖙𝖊𝖗 ↳ yugyeom (got7) + gun play

DAY 7 - 𝖒𝖔𝖗𝖙𝖎𝖈𝖎𝖆𝖓 ↳ vernon (svt) + body worship

DAY 8 - 𝖛𝖆𝖒𝖕𝖎𝖗𝖊 ↳ seokjin (bts) + lovebites

DAY 9 - 𝖔𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖗 𝖇𝖗𝖔𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖗 ↳ wooyoung (atz) + step/fake siblings

DAY 10 - 𝖘𝖆𝖙𝖆𝖓 ↳ hyunjin (skz) + ownership

DAY 11 - 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖈𝖍 ↳ taeyong (nct) + hexed sex

DAY 12 - 𝖍𝖊𝖑𝖑𝖍𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖉 ↳ jackson (got7) + scent kink

DAY 13 - 𝖒𝖆𝖉 𝖘𝖈𝖎𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖎𝖘𝖙 ↳ jongho (atz) + aphrodisiac

DAY 14 - 𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖑𝖐𝖊𝖗 ↳ taehyung (bts) + hidden cameras

DAY 15 - 𝖕𝖔𝖑𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖌𝖊𝖎𝖘𝖙 ↳ felix (skz) + punishment

DAY 16 - 𝖉𝖔𝖕𝖕𝖊𝖑𝖌𝖆𝖓𝖌𝖊𝖗𝖘 ↳ jaehyun (nct), keeho (p1h), taemin (shin), jungwoo (nct) + gangbang

DAY 17 - 𝖕𝖚𝖕𝖕𝖊𝖙 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗 ↳ seungcheol (svt) + manipulation

DAY 18 - 𝖉𝖆𝖗𝖐 𝖋𝖆𝖊 ↳ yeosang (atz) + sex pollen

DAY 19 - 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝖒𝖆𝖓 ↳ yoongi (bts) + drugging

DAY 20 - 𝖒𝖚𝖒𝖒𝖞 ↳ jeonghan (svt) + bondage

DAY 21 - 𝖕𝖊𝖓𝖓𝖞𝖜𝖎𝖘𝖊 ↳ yuta (nct) + fear play

DAY 22 - 𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖆𝖑 𝖐𝖎𝖑𝖑𝖊𝖗 ↳ yunho (atz) + blood play

DAY 23 - 𝖘𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖊𝖘𝖍𝖎𝖋𝖙𝖊𝖗 ↳ jongin (exo) + roleplay

DAY 24 - 𝖈𝖔𝖗𝖕𝖘𝖊 ↳ jimin (bts) + breath play

DAY 25 - 𝖍𝖞𝖇𝖗𝖎𝖉 ↳ jeongin (skz) + predator/prey

DAY 26 - 𝖊𝖛𝖎𝖑 𝖙𝖜𝖎𝖓𝖘 ↳ seonghwa (atz) + threesome

DAY 27 - 𝖜𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖜𝖔𝖑𝖋 ↳ johnny (nct) + knotting

DAY 28 - 𝖘𝖑𝖊𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖒𝖆𝖓 ↳ namjoon (bts) + suspension

DAY 29 - 𝖈𝖚𝖗𝖘𝖊𝖉 𝖕𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘𝖙 ↳ baekhyun (exo) + corruption kink

DAY 30 - 𝖙𝖗𝖎𝖈𝖐𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖉𝖊𝖒𝖔𝖓 ↳ san (atz) + humiliation kink

DAY 31 - 𝖇𝖎𝖌𝖋𝖔𝖔𝖙 ↳ hoseok (bts) + monster fucking

ⓘ 𝖆𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗 𝖓𝖔𝖙𝖊

Happy (almost) Freaktober! Posting this a month early on purpose so I have extra time to prepare and get a head start on these. I've also been dying to share this ever since I finalized the schedule mid-July LOL. This is my take on the popular Kinktober event many writers do, where they take requests & post fics daily for the entire month. As you can tell, I’ve had my own ideas from the start that I’m really excited to bring to life so taking requests wasn't something I was interested in doing, and I wanted extra time in advance to write. So, my Freaktober Challenge is simply posting for 31 days straight and diving into darker content that I haven't really posted much of before! I’m hyped and hope you are all as equally excited as I am. Let’s get our freak on! – Raven

ⓘ 𝖉𝖎𝖘𝖈𝖑𝖆𝖎𝖒𝖊𝖗𝖘

These fics may contain dark content and heavy themes like dubious consent and/or consensual non consent; sexual + emotional manipulation; obsession; stepcest + taboo family dynamics; sacrilegious behavior; objectification + dehumanization; sex with supernatural beings; beastiality/zoophilia; drugging; intentionally impairing judgment for sexual gains; power dynamics; glamorized fetishes/kinks; unsafe kink practices; unsafe use of weaponry; stranger danger; cult behavior; murder + other death themes; violence; stalking; blood + gore; plus other horror-related elements or kinks that may trigger some readers. Please read at your own risk!

These works are fictional and written for adults who enjoy exploring horror-inspired kinks in a safe and imaginative space. They do not reflect the IRL behavior of these kpop idols, and I do not condone non-consensual advances, harmful behavior, or sexual violence in real life. These works are created for entertainment only. Always practice safe, sane, and consensual sex.

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You slam back the first shot, barely flinching before accepting the next from the stranger beside you. He’s cute, just not your type. Still, you’re not above a little harmless flirting if it keeps the drinks coming. Lucky you.

Unlucky for him though, you have zero intention of going home with him. You flash a smile, murmuring a quick thanks before slipping between the bodies on the dance floor, losing him in the blur of lights.

Arms lifted and hips circling to the beat, you toss your hair back, letting the music take over. The mix of alcohol and pills from earlier hums through your veins, softening everything around you. It feels good.

A firm hand slides onto your hip, syncing with your movements like he already knows your rhythm. A man who can match your tempo? Instantly hot. You silently hope his face is as good as his dancing.

Sneaking a glance, you’re more than pleased. He’s insanely good-looking too. Messy black hair. A lip ring shining under the strobe lights. Probably has tattoos too, if you cared enough to look for them.

Fuck yeah, you’ll dance with him. And better yet, you’ll even let him take you home after.

“I’m Mingyu,” he says, leaning in with a cocky grin. “What’s your name, Gorg?”

“Y/N!” you shout over the music, turning back around to grind against him. His fingers trail down your sides, brushing the bare skin between your tiny skirt and your cropped, backless halter. He moves as if he knows exactly where this night is going, and you’re not about to stop him.

His lips brush your neck as you dance, followed by the teasing flick of his tongue and a playful bite that sends heat straight through you. You spin in his arms again, this time facing him, and crash your mouth to his without hesitation.

Mingyu’s arms lock around you, pulling you flush against his solid body. Your hands roam, tracing the hard lines of his biceps, his broad shoulders, the tension coiled in his back—then lower, to the firm curve of his ass.

You're sharing body heat, breathing each other in, getting lost in one another.

“Mmm,” he murmurs against your lips, “Baby, you should know I’m nothing but a bad influence.”

You pull back with a dangerous twinkle in your eyes. “So influence me then, Mr. Bad Boy,” you dare him.

🎵 Bad influеnce, you had to do it, You wanna have a good, good night 🎵

His thumb drags slowly across your lips, smearing the last of your gloss.

You part them slightly, tongue flicking out to taste the corner of your mouth, knowing exactly what you’re doing.

He takes the opening, pressing his thumb past your lips.

Instinct takes over. You close your mouth around it, tongue swirling, sucking slowly. His eyes darken, hunger and lust flashing through them.

With a soft pop, he pulls his hand away. You turn around without a word, body rolling as you grind down to the beat, taunting him to make the next move.

He grabs a fistful of your hair and yanks you back up, mouth at your ear, voice low and rough. “Don’t start something you’re not gonna finish, dollface.”

You push your ass back against the growing bulge in his jeans, grinning wickedly. “Right back at you, darlin’.”

He groans, no longer holding back, completely indifferent to the people surrounding you both. One hand wraps firmly around the front of your neck, tilting your head back and keeping your body flush against his. The other glides down your bare stomach, slipping beneath the hem of your miniskirt.

“Fuck, you’re soaked,” he growls, fingers sliding through the heat between your thighs. “This for me, baby? You want a good time? I’ll give you a fucking unforgettable one.”

The pressure at your throat flares for a moment, just enough to make your vision edge with stars. Then, mercifully, he loosens his grip, letting you gasp a few shaky breaths before tightening again.

“Make all the noise you want, Gorg. No one here gives a shit. I’m gonna fuck you right here too, make you lose your goddamn mind on my cock. You want that?” His fingers pick up their pace, curling relentlessly against your inner walls.

The bass from the music thuds in your ears, but it’s nothing compared to the pulse pounding between your legs. Mingyu’s breath is hot against your neck. His lips brush your skin as he mutters filthy praise into your ear.

You can feel him too, hard and throbbing through his pants, grinding against your ass in rhythm with every stroke of his fingers.

Your legs threaten to buckle as he hits that perfect spot again and again, sending tremors through your core. You're dripping, thighs slick as he pumps his fingers in and out of you. A small gasp escapes your lips, then a whimper, louder than you intended. But he was right. No one notices.

“Yeah, that’s it,” he growls, voice laced with pure desire. “Let ‘em hear how good I’m making you feel.”

You’re unraveling. The pleasure is building, sharp and blinding. You throw your head back against his shoulder, mouth parted, eyes fluttering shut as your body starts to shake.

You nod, too breathless to speak, reaching back to clutch the back of his neck. Your nails dig into his skin as he pinches your clit hard.

White-hot ecstasy tears through you, the orgasm hitting like a jolt of lightning. Your legs tremble violently, mouth falling open as a cry escapes you. Without Mingyu’s strong grip holding you up, you’re certain you’d collapse right there on the dirty dance floor.

🎵 Bad influencе, you had to do it, It's four in the morning, what the fuck we doin'? 🎵

But he’s not finished with you. Not even close.

“I wasn’t kidding, Y/N,” he growls against your ear, pulling his hand from the front of your skirt. You hear the soft, unmistakable sound of his zipper lowering as he frees himself with a quiet, practiced motion. His hand slides to your ass, tugging your soaked thong aside with a rough, impatient grip. You feel the thick head of his cock press against your slick folds, teasing, threatening.

“I’m gonna ruin you right here, between all of these people,” he whispers, his voice full of dark promise. “And you’re gonna let me. Aren’t you?”

Then he pushes in.

You both moan in unison as he begins to stretch you open. The intrusion is intense, overwhelming, and everything you didn’t know you were desperate for. The loud music around you pulses through your bodies, but all you can feel is him.

It’s so much better than you imagined.

“Fuck,” he hisses, thrusting deeper, inch by inch, until he's almost fully sheathed inside you. “You feel that? You think you can take all of me, baby?”

“Give me everything,” you mewl, voice shaking with need.

And he does.

He starts fucking you from behind, his tip hitting deep inside you while his girth stretches against your walls. You’re trapped against his body and the faceless crowd. Bodies blur around you, lights flash, bass pounds. Everyone’s too drunk, too high, too far gone to register the way your breath hitches or how his hand fists your hair to keep you upright.

His mouth brushes your ear again, “Goddamn, look at you. So perfect around my cock, so fucking greedy for it. You were made to be fucked like this, weren't you?”

“Y-yes, made for this,” you gasp, voice cracking. “Made for you.”

That last word snaps something in Mingyu.

He growls, going feral as a switch flips. His movements grow rougher, harder as he pounds into you recklessly, chasing your release like a man possessed.

You fall apart all over again, body writhing, head tossed back against his shoulder as you come undone. A hot gush of wetness spills out around him, dripping down your thighs, making an even bigger mess. But that’s a problem for later.

“Gonna come,” he grunts through clenched teeth, thrusting once, twice, then burying himself deep as his hips jerk. You feel the molten heat of his release pulse inside you, in thick and hot threads. The sensation alone is enough to make your legs buckle, arousal spiking all over again at the thought of him filling you up.

He pulls out slowly, and you feel some of his come leak out after him.

But he’s still not done.

Mingyu drops his hand between your legs, massaging your combined mess into your swollen folds. Then, with zero hesitation, he slides two fingers back inside you.

“Fuck, still so warm, so tight,” he murmurs, eyes dark as he watches your body react. “Think you can give me one more?”

He already knows the answer. Your walls flutter around his fingers, clenching in anticipation even as tears prick the corners of your eyes. It’s almost too much, but you crave it.

It’s so fucking good.

Your body tenses, shuddering violently as a third orgasm rips through you, smaller but more intense. You cry out, unable to hold back, clutching his forearm like it’s the only thing keeping you tethered to the ground.

Mingyu groans, pulling his fingers free. They’re coated in slick and come. Before you can move, he presses them back against your entrance, pushing his release back inside you with a filthy smirk.

“Can’t let it all go to waste,” he says smugly. “Gotta hide the evidence.”

You glance over your shoulder, flushed and wrecked, barely able to stand.

“Wanna get out of here?” he asks, already zipping up, eyes locked on yours.

“Your place or mine?” you ask breathlessly.

🎵 Bad influence, you had to do it, You turn and say "a good, good time" 🎵

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You sigh, checking your phone once more (the tenth time in the past five minutes), willing a notification to appear. But your screen remains stubbornly blank, mocking you with its silence.

Chan was supposed to text once he landed, but hours have passed, and still no word from him. He’d been visiting his family for the past week and was returning home tonight. You’d planned to stay up, wanting to be awake when he walked through the door, to ask him how his break was. But as the time creeps closer to midnight, your eyelids grow heavy by the minute, and the cozy warmth of your couch makes staying awake feel impossible.

As much as you’ve enjoyed the past few days of having the apartment to yourself, something felt off. Maybe it’s been the way it’s too quiet, too clean.

Something’s missing. Him.

You bury yourself deeper into the oversized black sweatshirt you stole from him before he’d left. Well, technically, you borrowed it on a chilly night and haven’t given it back yet, but it’s been long enough that you’re semi-confident that it’s a permanent acquisition. The sleeves swallow your hands, the hood flopping over half your face, cocooning you in familiar comfort. It faintly smells just like him, warm, clean, and just a little bit like citrus from the fancy shampoo he swears he doesn’t use.

At some point, without really meaning to, you fell for him. Hard.

Maybe it’s the way his laughter lingers in the air even after he’s left the room, the way he always saves you the last slice of pizza even though you know he wanted it for himself, the way he never complains when you steal his hoodies, even though he absolutely notices.

And you’re pretty sure he likes you back. Like, 99% sure.

But that lingering 1%? That tiny, infuriating sliver of doubt? It’s enough to keep you from doing anything courageous, like admitting that you’ve been secretly crushing on him. You’re too afraid to make the first move, just in case it all blows up in your face. In case he only sees you as a friend. Or worse, as just a roommate.

God, you really, really hope that’s not the case.

At some point, your exhaustion wins, and you drift off without realizing it. You don’t hear the soft click of the door unlocking or Chan’s quiet footsteps as he comes inside.

He exhales, shaking off the lingering weariness from his delayed flights. Kicking his shoes off, he drops his bag by the door before stepping further inside. The apartment is dimly lit from the streetlights, the soft glow filtering in through the curtains. Then, he sees you.

You’re curled up on the couch, nestled in his sweatshirt, your face half-hidden beneath the hood, breathing slowly.

His heart pounds at the sight.

Chan planned to surprise you by coming home early, hence why he didn’t text you back. But fate had other ideas; his flight was delayed not once, but twice tonight. The dinner reservations were long past. The flowers he bought were starting to look a little sad.

But none of that matters now. Not when he was standing in front of you, watching you sleep so peacefully.

He had decided on day two of being home that he missed you badly. That the apartment, his routines, even his favorite coffee shop, all felt off without you in them. And somewhere between the restless nights, long days, and delayed flights he realized something else.

He wasn’t just missing his friend, his roommate.

He was missing you, the person he hadn’t been able to get out of his head.

Chan was planning to tell you that tonight, along with all the other words he’d left unsaid for far too long.

After gently setting down the bouquet of soft, pastel and white colored flowers, he kneels beside the couch.

Carefully, he lifts the edge of the hood covering your face, pushing it back. The warmth in his chest grows as you stir, slowly waking up. Your brow scrunches slightly before your eyelids flutter open, widening when you realize he’s in front of you.

He smiles. God, you’re perfect.

“Hi, dove,” he murmurs softly. “Did you miss me?”

Still caught in the hazy lull of sleep, you loop your arms around his neck as you pull him down onto you, pressing yourself into his warmth like you never want to let go.

“Mmm, so much,” you confess, your voice thick with drowsiness, and the honesty slips past your lips before you even realize it.

Chan freezes for half a second before melting into your embrace, a low chuckle rumbling through his chest. His arms wrap around you, holding you just as tightly, his face buried in the crook of your neck.

“Good,” he whispers, pressing the softest kiss against your skin. “Because I missed you more.”

He pulls back as his fingers graze along your jaw, tilting your chin up to guide you toward him. Chan’s touch is gentle, his thumb brushes over your skin like he’s memorizing this moment. Your half-lidded eyes meet his, hazy with sleepiness and something softer, something that makes his heart race.

Before he can think better of it, he leans in again. This time he closes the space between you with a long-awaited kiss.

His lips press against yours tentatively at first, like he’s giving you the chance to pull away, to stop this before it becomes something that can’t be taken back.

But you don’t. You won’t.

Instead, you sigh into him as your arms tighten around his shoulders, like you’re afraid this is a dream and he’ll disappear.

Your hands grip his beanie and tug it off without a second thought. You toss it somewhere—anywhere—because all you care about is threading your fingers through his hair. You tug lightly at the soft strands you’ve been dying to touch for longer than you care to admit.

Chan groans into your mouth, the sound vibrating between you. It sends a delicious shiver down your spine. Heat coils low in your stomach, setting every nerve on fire.

He moves without thinking, climbing over you, pressing you deeper into the couch cushions as he molds himself against you. His body fits perfectly against yours, warm and solid, as if he were always meant to be there.

His grip slides down to your waist, fingers tightening like he needs to hold onto something real, something grounding, as he shifts closer. And then, god, he rolls his hips down against yours, a teasing friction that steals the breath from your lungs.

Your fingers tangle in his hair, nails scraping lightly against his scalp. Chan exhales sharply, like he’s barely holding himself together, which sends a thrill through you.

He’s so familiar, yet right now, he feels like something entirely new. Something you’ve wanted for a while.

The kiss deepens, his tongue traces along yours, tasting you, learning you. It’s slow but searing, a quiet confession wrapped in every press of your lips, every lingering touch that’s shared.

There’s no more uncertainty. It’s just you and him, tangled together in the quiet of your apartment, finally giving in.

Chan leans in again, lips brushing over yours, voice barely above a whisper, “Tell me you want this too.”

You nod, knowing there’s no going back.

Thank god.

Your hands trail down his firm back, fingers exploring the warmth of his skin through the thin fabric of his shirt. Needing more, you tug at the hem, silently asking for it to go.

Chan pulls back just enough to strip it off, tossing it aside. His gaze drops to you, dark yet soft, and then he’s helping you out of yours, the one you’ve practically lived in since he left.

He temporarily forgets to breathe when he realizes you’re bare beneath it.

A low, appreciative sound rumbles in his chest as his fingers lightly trace over your skin. “Fuck, you’re perfect,” he murmurs, his voice thick with something heady, something possessive.

Then his lips are on you again, trailing down the curve of your neck. He leaves a path of open-mouthed kisses that make you shiver while his hands skim your sides, mapping the dips and curves of your body like he’s memorizing you. Like he’s waited too long for this moment to rush through it.

He pauses just above your breasts, his breath warm against your skin. Looking up, he asks a silent question with his eyes, waiting for permission.

You give him a small nod, tilting your head back in anticipation.

That’s all the confirmation he needs.

His mouth closes around the soft peak of your nipple, his tongue flicking over the sensitive bud, drawing a gasp from your lips. The heat of it sends a rush of pleasure straight through you, making your fingers tighten in his hair.

His other hand moves to your other breast, kneading gently, his thumb circling and teasing in tandem with his mouth. He groans against you, the sound vibrating through your skin, making your body arch into his touch, desperate for more.

Chan lifts his head just enough to meet your eyes again, his lips curling into a knowing smirk.

“You’re so damn beautiful,” he says, his voice a velvety rasp against your skin.

Then he lowers his mouth again, determined to worship every inch of you.

Chan doesn’t rush. He never does, but definitely not tonight, not with you.

He switches sides, his mouth leaving a wet trail as he latches onto your other breast, giving it just as much attention as the first. His tongue flicks over the sensitive peak before he sucks gently, pulling a soft moan from your lips.

You writhe beneath him, your back arching into his warmth, silently begging for more. He groans against your skin at the way you respond to him.

When he feels like you can’t take anymore of his teasing, his lips begin their descent, leaving a slow, burning trail of kisses down your stomach. His tongue sneaking out every so often to taste you, to savor the way your skin shivers under his attention. His hands smooth over your sides as he moves lower and lower, until he reaches the waistband of your sweatpants.

Chan pauses, glancing up at you with hooded eyes, a teasing smirk playing on his lips. His fingers hook into the band, dragging it down just slightly, just enough to make your heart skip a beat.

“You’re already so needy for me, dove,” he murmurs, his voice thick with something dark and addictive.

You don’t get the chance to respond before he tugs your sweatpants down in one fluid motion, helping you out of them with ease.

And then he sees it.

The damp patch coating the thin fabric of your panties.

Chan sucks in a sharp breath, his jaw clenching as his fingers ghost over the evidence of your arousal, his touch barely there but just enough to make you squirm. His eyes flick back up to yours, burning with unspoken promises.

“Fuck,” he breathes, his voice raw with restraint. “Look at you…”

He presses a teasing kiss just above the wet spot, whispering against you, “I need to taste you.”

“Please, Channie,” you whimper, your voice laced with desperation. Your fingers tighten in his hair, tugging him closer. “I want you to.”

A deep groan escapes his lungs. He loves the way you plead for him, the way his nickname sounds falling from your pretty lips.

His fingers find their way between your thighs, pressing against the soaked fabric of your panties. He rubs slow circles over your aching core, teasing you, testing you, driving you to the edge before he’s even truly begun. The sensation sends another shudder through you, and when your moan spills into the air, it intertwines with his own.

“Anything for you, dove,” he breathes, his voice thick with devotion and desire.

Chan hooks his fingers into the waistband of your panties, gently dragging them down your legs. He takes his time, savoring every inch he reveals, watching as you tremble beneath him.

Then he sees all of you.

He sucks in a breath, his pupils blown wide with hunger as he drinks in the sight of your slick, glistening folds. He swallows hard as his arousal painfully strains against his pants, twitching at the mere thought of tasting you.

Lowering himself between your thighs, he presses soft kisses along the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, his lips barely grazing where you need him most. The anticipation is maddening, and he knows that he has you squirming. He smirks as your hips instinctively tilt toward him, silently begging.

He chuckles, but obliges.

Chan’s nose nuzzles against your swollen, needy clit. As he breathes you in, his own restraint hangs by a thread. His tongue delves into your slick heat, firmly parting you as he groans into you, the vibration sending jolts of pleasure straight through your core.

You cry out his name, your back arching off the couch. Your nails dig into his shoulders, anchoring yourself to him as waves of pleasure crash over you.

Chan tightens his grip on your thighs, holding you open as he’s determined to make you fall apart beneath him. He’s waited to fucking long for this.

“Oh, fuck,” you mewl, you voice becoming shaky. “Chan, I’m gonna come.”

His chest swells with pride, impressed at how quickly he’s unraveled you. He’s barely touched you, and yet here you are just about to fall apart for him.

“That’s it, dove,” he rasps against your slick skin, his tongue relentless, pushing you right over the edge. “Let go for me.”

Your body tenses before shattering into pure pleasure. Waves of ecstasy wash over you as you cry out his name. He groans as he feels you come undone against his mouth, your release coating his tongue. Hot, sweet, and so intoxicating.

Chan doesn’t stop, not until he’s wrung every last drop from you, his tongue lapping up the remnants of your pleasure, drinking you in like he’s starving. He finally lets up once you're a quivering mess beneath him.

He sits up, satisfaction glinting in his darkened eyes as he admires your flushed skin, your chest rising and falling in uneven breaths. Especially the dazed, blissed-out look on your face.

Fucking breathtaking.

You don’t give him long to revel in his work before you sit up to face him. Your fingers grip the nape of his neck as you pull him closer, pressing your lips to his in a feverish kiss. You don’t care that you can taste yourself on his lips; in fact, it only fuels the fire burning between you.

Your hands slide down his toned stomach, finding the waistband of his pants. With a teasing tug, you pull back just enough to meet his gaze, eyes wide, lips parted, pure temptation in your expression.

“I want to return the favor,” you murmur, voice still heavy with the remnants of your pleasure.

Chan groans, his head falling forward, his resolve hanging by a thread. His hands cup your face, thumbs brushing over your swollen lips as he exhales a shaky breath.

“Dove,” he rasps, his voice straining with need, “as much as I’d love that, I need to be inside you.”

Your lips curl into a playful, breathy giggle. “Even better.”

Without another word, you push his pants and briefs down in one smooth motion, freeing him, finally seeing him in all his aching glory.

And fuck, you want him just as badly as he wants you.

Chan positions himself at your entrance, his tip teasing your slick heat for just long enough to make you shiver with anticipation. But he’s too desperate to feel you, to claim you.

With one smooth thrust, he buries himself deep inside you. He fills you completely, stretching you in the most delicious way. Your fingers digging into his arms as a broken moan falls from your lips.

“Shit,” Chan groans, his forehead dropping against yours as he fights to steady himself. “So tight…so perfect for me.”

He rolls his hips, setting a slow rhythm, his thick length dragging against your walls in a way that has your toes curling. His body trembles with restraint, every muscle tense as he battles the overwhelming urge to let go, to ruin you right here and now. But he knows better, there will be plenty of time to fuck you into the couch like there’s no tomorrow.

Right now, he wants to savor this moment.

Chan nuzzles into your neck, his teeth grazing your skin as he exhales shakily. A hand grips your waist, holding you steady as he thrusts again. His cock brushes against that divine spot inside you, causing you to let out a sharp gasp.

“Chan, ohmygod,” you whine, your voice breathy and ultimately wrecked. “Feels so good,”

He lifts his head, his dark, lust-blown eyes locking onto yours as a smirk tugs at his lips.

“Yeah?” His voice drips with affection and need. He rolls his hips again, slower this time, ensuring his thick head hits that perfect spot with maddening precision. “Then let me make it even better, dove.”

Chan’s grip moves to your thigh, his fingers press into your heated skin as he lifts your leg over his shoulder. The shift sends a jolt of pleasure through you, the new angle allowing him to sink even deeper into you.

Your breath stutters, a strangled moan spilling out as white-hot pleasure floods your senses. His name falls from your mouth like a mantra, broken and breathless, as the coil inside you winds up impossibly tight. Then it snaps.

A cry rips from your throat as pleasure crashes over you, your body trembling. The intensity leaves you breathless, your head tipping back as you succumb to the sheer bliss of Bang Chan.

Chan watches you with hooded eyes, mesmerized by the way you fall apart beneath him. His control is slipping, unraveling with every squeeze of your walls around his cock. His lips reattach to yours, swallowing your moans as your fingers dig into his sweat-slicked skin.

He groans, his rhythm faltering as he feels you tighten around him, gripping him so perfectly. He clenches his jaw, fingers digging into your hips as he thrusts through your orgasm, chasing his own.

“Shit, baby. I’m—”

Chan’s voice breaks into a strangled moan as he finally tumbles over the edge. He buries himself deep, his release spilling inside you. His body shudders against yours, every muscle trembling with the force of his pleasure.

Completely spent, he collapses onto you, his weight warm and comforting as you both catch your breath, your bodies still tangled together in the aftermath. For a moment, you lay there wrapped in each other, the only sound filling the room is your mingled, steadying breaths.

Chan shifts slightly to press soft, lingering kisses along your jaw. His lips are warm and tender against your skin, his breath sending a shiver down your spine. And then he whispers something that makes your heart swell.

“I love you,” he murmurs, voice thick with sincerity.

Your lips curl into a smile, warmth spreading through your chest. Before you can respond, he adds teasingly, “But just so you know… I will be confiscating my favorite sweatshirt back from you.”

You let out a sleepy giggle, fingers lazily tracing patterns along his back.

“Good luck with that.”

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Every October, the souls of the underworld celebrate the month in their own hellish ways, particularly the days leading up to Halloween. Even the devil has his own ritual; handpicking a new consort from his court of sinners, who then becomes a personal pleasure vice.

This year, he chose you.

One of the newer souls to disgrace his presence, but your youth didn’t

It’s been two weeks, and so far, you’ve enjoyed every indulgence the Prince of Hell provides when you follow his commands. But tonight, the temptation of disobeying has been taunting you. You’ve heard that Hyunjin tends to have a temper, and you just might be willing to find out for yourself how true that just might be.

“Why aren’t you upstairs?” his deep voice bellows from behind. “Head to my chambers immediately, and wait for me.”

“Oh, I thought that was just a suggestion for later. You want me upstairs…now?” You act surprised, pretending to brush off his demand.

“When have I ever been known to offer a mere suggestion? You do as I say, or else,” he growls.

“Or else what?” You question, knowing just how to push the limits of his already thin patience. You lift a hand, letting it graze against his cheek before moving up to caress one of his horns. Hyunjin’s whole body shudders at the sensation.

“What did I tell you about touching me there?”

“That I should save it for the bedroom.”

“Then why are you doing it here, in the hall?” He asks, dipping his head down to your neck, his lips nipping at your flesh.

“To press your buttons,” you admit as your head falls back, letting him have more access to your sensitive skin.

He snakes a hand up to your neck next, gripping it gently yet firm as he stares into your eyes. “If you want it rough, darling, all you have to do is ask.”

You moan in response.

“Is that what you want? Disobeying me twice to get what you truly want? Answer me.”

“Yes, master. I want it rough. I want you to fuck me so hard that I cry.”

“Then that’s what you’ll get, whore.”

He yanks the side of your dress up, and his tail twists around the side of his body to find its way between your legs. His tail teases your dampened slit, and a mouthful of swear words spills past your lips.

“Oh, god. Please! Fuck. I need you right now, Hyunjin.”

The sound of hushed giggles down the hall disrupts his playtime. He hisses loudly, and the voices disappear, but the wave of sudden possessiveness still washes over him.

Nobody else dares to see you like this. Nobody else shall hear your needy whimpers as you beg for more. Your his, only his.

Refusing to share any part of you with a crowd, he hauls you upstairs and straight into his chambers, where he drops you onto his bed without further notice. Hyunjin only parts from you to shut the door the rest of the way, locking you in here with him for the remainder of the evening.

Once the lock clicks into place and he’s satisfied that no one can come in (and no one can get out), he saunters back toward where you lie, sprawled out on his bed.

“Oh my god,” you say, sucking in a breath at the sight of his naked form.

“Not God, Satan,” Hyunjin corrects with a smirk.

His spiked tail swings behind his hips with each step, his growing cock bounces slightly between his legs before standing tall, ready to take you.

With a snap of his fingers, the rest of your garments disappear. He grips your ankles, pulling you harshly to the edge of the bed where he stands.

“Spread your legs wide for me. We’ve got to stretch you out first.”

You listen this time, opening your knees and giving in to whatever he has planned.

“Such a gorgeous cunt. Too bad it’ll be out of commission for a while after I’m done with it,” he half-jokes with a sneer.

He lines himself up, and begins to sink inside your slick heat. Warmth envelops him, and he’s only met with a little resistance as you relax around his thick tip, letting him further inside. But he’s got so much more to go.

Hyunjin sinks further in, forcing you to take his entire length in a matter of seconds, but he knows you can handle it. You can handle anything he does to you; you’re different.

It burns for a moment as he stretches your inner walls wide, but the fiery flames of pain soon turn into something bearable, something that feels so wrong to be right. Yet it’s exactly what you want—what you need.

His girth takes up every millimeter of available space inside of you, filling you to the absolute brim. Tears prick your eyes once he begins to move, his hips slamming back into you unrelentingly, giving you no time to catch your breath.

“Look at this fucking cockslut, crying so soon after we’ve just begun. You begged for this baby, now it’s my time to deliver,” he grunts.

One of his hands tangles into your hair, holding your head back to keep your body from arching below him. Your breasts bounce with each thrust, but that’s not what has his attention. It’s currently glued to the pain etched across your face, the way it blends with pleasure, like you can’t make up your mind if you love or hate this.

That’s just how he likes it.

Your hands find his back, scratching along his flesh as an outlet while you cry out.

“F-fuck, it’s s-so,” you suck in a quick breath, finishing with a long moan, “Mmmm. Master, just like that.”

He grunts, feeling your insides tighten around his aching cock.

“Don’t you fucking dare come,” he huffs, “Not yet.”

“I can’t,” you mewl, unable to hold your orgasm back for very long. “I need to come. Please, Hyunjin. Make me come, I need it so bad. Make me come all over you.”

Your words echo in his ears as his own orgasm rips from his soul, dying to be released. He manages to hold it back for a few seconds before his muscles tighten as a warning.

“Come now,” he demands. In an instant, you're both falling over the edge, letting your mixed pleasure envelope your bodies, taking you into another dimension. Your body quivers uncontrollably around him, your face a fucked-out blend of pain and pleasure.

Hyunjin slows down, dragging your shared orgasm out, never wanting it to end. His release spurts into your ruined pussy. Some of his creamy seed leaks when he pulls out from your warmth, but he’s quick to stuff it back inside your walls, right where it belongs.

“So fucking perfect,” he sighs, taking one last good look at your disheveled state before settling down next to you. “I like it when you test my patience.”

“My pleasure, master,” you whisper softly, the details of tonight become a blur of sinful pleasure in your memory as you drift into slumber.

Hyunjin lies beside you, memorizing your features as tonight’s festivities replay in his own mind, over and over. You’re divine and dangerous. His perfect match. Unlike the others that have come before, you stir something in him. Hunger, obsession, maybe even something sweeter; something he hasn’t dared to feel in centuries. Perhaps he won’t get rid of you after Halloween passes. Perhaps, you’re right where you’re meant to be. Beside him.

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