JK | The Wolf Within You

JK | The Wolf Within You

word count: 2.2k

Summary: Arranged marriages always seemed to be so boring on the outside. A treaty pairing the two wolf clans together was the only reason you and Jungkook got married in the first place. But once you saw the little omega shy away from you, holding onto his sleeves for dear life, you knew your marriage was going to be anything but boring.

Paring: Omega!Jungkook x Alpha!Reader

Genre: supernatural!au, arranged marriage!au, smut, some fluff

Rating: 18+

Warnings: dom!reader, sub!jk, pwp, vaginal sex, oral sex (m), oversensitivity, orgasm denial, reader is a little minx, repeated orgasms, bondage, jealousy, use of the word “slut” once, pain!kink, humiliation!kink, marking!kink, biting, hickeys, blood, praises, begging

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Standing above your dear husband sends a thrill through you. Him clawing at his retrains, cock hard and free but with no way to relieve himself. It’a a beautiful sight. And he is beautiful with all your past markings upon his skin, the ones you carved out with your teeth and claws to remind him who he belongs too.

If anyone were to tell you a year ago you would enjoy being married, you would have laughed in their faces. You only got married because it was your duty as the head alphas daughter to marry an omega from another clan. You remember screaming, pleading with your father not to marry you off to some random omega. Men always - even omegas - found a way to use you.

Vanilla sex wasn’t your thing, and you often found yourself in the bed of omegas that felt the same. But you knew not every person, especially other wolves, were like that. They saw a young female like you and wanted to claim you, defile you, ruin you and make you their submissive.

You wanted none of that, and thinking that would be your life if you were forced to marry made your blood boil with hate. It wasn’t until you actually met the omega, that your whole outlook on the idea changed.

Jeon Jungkook, your husbands name is. A virgin at the time, and one that was shyer then a bunny being cornered by a bigger animal. Seeing him, you happily gave your vows, and on the night of your wedding you taught him just how wonderful your life together was going to be. Exactly how it is now.

Him underneath you, looking like the bunny you referenced earlier, and you the big bad wolf stalking to eat him up. You lick your lips, excitement coursing through you as you think of all the ways you’ll be mating your husband tonight.

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Haunted - Yandere!Ghost!Jungkook X Reader

Yandere!AU - Part of the Yandere!BTS X Reader Series

Genre: Mature, Horror, Angst, Smut (Things get dreamy~ I mean, steamy…)

Pairing: Jungkook X Reader

Words: 14,123

Warning: This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.

A/n: Happy Halloween~ I know you’ve all been patiently waiting for this story as much as I have been prepared to write it. I really do hope you enjoy this one, and I hope it serves as a good first story to the series! I think it does! As always, I do not believe Jungkook, nor any member of BTS would act like this. This is just my interpretation of the archetype. As always, feedback is greatly appreciated, enjoy!

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Writing Fanfiction Is:

Losing motivation when you have time

Getting motivation at ungodly hours of the day or when busy

Going back to your story trying to remember what the fuck you said

“Am I writing this character good or nah?”

“does the plot make sense?”

feeling guilty sometimes for absolutely no reason

waiting for comments on your fic from specific readers

writing something and thinking “oh yeah, thats definitely going to hurt them”

procrastinating on writing by writing other fics

having too many ideas and not enough time

never finishing your wips

debating whether to add the fucking dumbass joke in that scene or not

wondering if you should or shouldn’t add that angsty scene purely to fuck with the readers bc its not like its gonna kill them or anything

Hoping no one finds it while simultaneously hoping ppl read it

playing music for inspiration and zoning out

planning fics and never writing them

thinking its shit but ppl like it and suddenly ur imposter syndrome acts up LIKE A FUCKING BITCH

loving ur readers so so much

duplicity | jjk (m)

summary: one thing you shouldn’t be doing is fucking the enigma that is jeon jungkook—just seven days after he broke your sister’s heart  pairing: jungkook x f reader  genre: drabble-ish, smut, pwp, angst, enemies to lovers (kinda), taboo themes rating: 18+  word count: 4.8k warnings: lotta swearing, sexual tension, betrayal, angst, seven!jk, the laundromat from seven mv (warning in itself 🥵), double pierced lip!jk, pet names, nasty dirty talk, making out, hickeys, jk loves her 🍑, explicit smut so oral (f receiving), breast play, fingering, handjob, unprotected sex, dom!jk, big dick!jk, doggy, spanking, clit stimulation, choking, hair pulling, degradation, manhandling, dacryphilia, implied tummy bulging, denied orgasm, exhibitionism, voyeurism, overstimulation, creampie (SORRY ITS PURE FILTH)

a/n: um hi so i know i was on a lil hiatus but seven utterly destroyed me n this was the aftermath.. oopsie daisy i hope y’all enjoy! 🙈 pls lmk what you think!

a/n 2.0: thank you to my sav (@jeonjcngkook) for coming along this crazy ride w me & for making the most stunning banner,, i love you so very much 🥺

masterlist | taglist 

“So this is where you’ve been hiding.” 

An all too familiar timbre broke through the humming and whirring of washing machines and tumble dryers; immediately shifting the mood within the laundry room of your walk-up apartment building. 

You gnawed on the inside of your cheek, keeping your back facing him as you continued to pluck your clothes from the basket, organizing them into two piles of whites and colors. You didn’t dare acknowledge his existence—why would you? 

That would only cause more trouble. 

And if there was one thing that Jeon Jungkook consistently brought into your life (most of time against your own will)—it was trouble. 

The sound of heavy weighted footsteps approached from behind you. “Are you really giving me the silent treatment?” 

Were you giving him the silent treatment? Abso-fucking-lutely. It was either complete silence from your end or the world’s most intense screaming match. All you’d wanted to do since he ended his six month relationship with your older sister of two years last Wednesday night, was to shout an obscene amount of cuss words and insults in his smug little face. He deserved the smack down of the century; a harsh knock off his self imposed pedestal.

But your sister had practically begged you to leave it be, as she still quote-on-quote ‘loved him’, whilst hiccuping through chesty sobs and shoveling spoonfuls of Ben & Jerry’s into her quivering mouth. 

You reluctantly complied with her wishes, despite wholeheartedly disagreeing. No matter, you kept your word and satisfactorily avoided hunting Jeon Jungkook down for seven whole days. 

Although now your self control is going to be tested big time. 

Once the last item of clothing had been sorted, you filled the basket with the delegated whites and propped it up onto your hip. 

As you approached the washer, you heard Jungkook scoff. No doubt he was either tonguing his cheek or chewing on his double pierced lip; a habit you’d noticed over the months he was your sister’s boyfriend. 

“Are you seriously gonna act like I’m not in the fucking room?” 

Frustration was clearly evident in his voice and you felt triumphant knowing that you were getting under his skin without even really trying. Jungkook always wanted to be the center of attention; expecting all eyes on him at all times. It was one of the reasons why you so desperately wished to give him a piece of your mind and obliterate his massive ego. 

Closing the door of the washing machine, you pulled out the tray and turned to reach for the laundry detergent—big mistake. 

Jungkook was perched (more accurately manspread) on the table where you’d left your belongings, his gaze transfixed on you. And only you. His plump lips were curved up into a knowing, self-assured smirk. 

He looked irresistible and it made you loathe him even more. How could somebody look so fucking attractive in a white wife beater, a loosely zipped up gray hoodie and ripped dad jeans? It simply wasn’t fair. Stop gawking at your sister’s ex! You internally chastised yourself, snapping back to reality and scowling in his direction. 

“Can you move? I’m trying to do my laundry.” You huffed in annoyance, hastily reaching for the detergent before your wrist became encased by a tattooed hand twice its size. “What the fuck? Let go, Jeon.” 

Jungkook swiped his tongue across his bottom lip, “why have you been avoiding me like the plague?” 

You scoffed in disbelief. “You’ve got to be kidding me right?” 

Tugging you forward by the wrist, Jungkook pulled your body between his parted thighs which evoked a breathy gasp from the back of your throat. 

“I don’t kid when it comes to you, honey.” Good god, that fucking nickname. “I’ve wanted to see you all week.” 

You wished you could put your pussy in time out for clenching at that stupid term of endearment. How could your body betray you already? This is your sister’s asshole ex boyfriend! The same prick who shattered her heart and crushed her soul last week. 

Flashing him a curt frown, you roughly tugged your wrist out of his grasp and stumbled backwards to break your close proximity. “Hm, well I can’t say the same about you.” 

Jungkook’s pierced lips broke out into a broad grin. “Liar,” he mused, hopping off the table and backing you up against the row of washers, “if I know you the way I think I do… you’ve been wanting to chew me out all week because you love putting me in my place.” 

How the fuck did he know that? “You don’t know shit, Jeon.” 

“No?” He murmured, eyes twinkling with a mixture of mischief and delight. “Pretty sure I do. And I’m pretty sure your sister told you to ignore me because she knows.” 

You furrowed your eyebrows and folded your arms across your chest, trying to create some kind of distance considering how fucking close he was to you. His broad shoulders and muscular arms were shielding you from viewing the rest of the room and good lord, was it stifling. 

“What do you mean she knows? Know what?” 

Leaning his forearm against the top washer, Jungkook had you trapped. He ducked his head down so that his lips grazed your earlobe. You felt his hot breath and almost instantaneously your skin blossomed with goosebumps. 

“She knows I had eyes for her pretty little sister instead.” 

Your heart rate increased rapidly, thundering against your rib cage. You could feel the blood rush to your ears. The fuck? Did he really just say that? Unraveling your arms, you placed your hands against his toned pectorals and gave his chest an almighty shove. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” 

Your words came out in a breathy rage, eyes ablaze as you stalked towards the table to resume your laundry. Oh how you wished you never opened your mouth. You should’ve pretended he was invisible. You should’ve never entertained him. 

Jungkook quickly slid an arm around your waist and spun you expertly into his chest. “I love when you’re pissed at me, so fucking sexy.” He was grinning like a Cheshire cat. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You repeated, majorly scandalized while mildly turned on. “You were still dating my sister just over a week ago!” 

He hummed in response, his hands snaking down your backside and curving around the globes of your ass, “so? A lot can change in seven days, honey.” 

Your breath hitched in your throat when he gave your ass a squeeze. “You’re such a fucking dick.” 

“Mm,” he chuckled, “you’d like that wouldn’t you? Getting fucked with my dick.” 

“Yeah ri—” 

“The bedroom walls aren’t soundproof, pretty girl. I know you were thinking of me when you’d fuck yourself with those vibrators.” 

Your eyes almost bugged out of your head. Oh shit. 

“Wha—” 

Jungkook squeezed your ass again, this time pressing himself flush against your body. You were now chest to chest, face to face and the sexual tension was so fucking thick that you were beginning to feel dizzy. 

“Tried to act so high and mighty when really you wanted me just as much as I wanted you.” He drawled smugly, lips finding your jawline and he nipped at the skin there. “Can’t blame you though, we look so fucking hot together. Way hotter than me and your sister.” 

You thwacked his shoulder for the comment but didn’t push him away this time. You couldn’t find the self control to remind yourself from the situation any longer, not when he was deliciously sucking below your jaw. “Why are you always so cocky?” 

Jungkook released your skin with a pop, smirking at the reddish bruise with satisfaction. His eyes glistened with amusement, “why wouldn’t I be? I have the cock to back it up.” He rocked his hips against yours then, allowing you to feel exactly what he meant. His bulge was impressively large, hard and throbbing through his jeans. 

You swallowed a moan, “Jungkook…” 

“Fuck,” he sucked his bottom lip into his mouth, “fucking love it when you say my name. So pretty, so hot, so good.” His hands were making their way from your backside to your thighs now, causing your skin to tingle.

“You need to stop. This isn’t right.” You weakly tried to be the voice of reason, bringing your hands to the fabric of his gray hoodie in hopes to push him away from you. 

“Why does it feel so right then, hm?” 

When you felt his hands rubbing your clothed inner thighs, you ended up shrugging the zip-up hoodie off his shoulders instead. Call it instinctual desire, since your body fully went against your brain at that moment. The garment hung loosely around his impressive biceps, showcasing the glorious tattoo sleeve on his right arm and exposing the long silver chain dangling around his neck. 

Your eyes drifted from his body back up to his face and you felt your clitoris pulsate at the smoldering way he was staring at you. Jungkook gazed at you like he was a starved man and you were his first meal. The way he was devouring you with his eyes render you speechless and prompted you to clamp your thighs together. 

No words were exchanged between the two of you for approximately a minute before your mouths clashed together in a heated kiss. Jungkook hoisted you up onto one of the washers located in the middle of the laundry room, ironically the only one that was mid-cycle. 

You involuntarily gasped into his mouth, your body instantly reacting to the vibrations from the washer. It was stimulating your lower half much more than you cared to admit. Your hands clutched at his wife beater, holding the man as close as physically possible. 

Jungkook smirked against your lips, relishing in the way you reacted before stealing your breath with the most scorching kiss. His tongue invaded your mouth, licking and teasing behind your teeth whilst one hand busied themselves with unzipping your jeans and the other cupped your left breast. 

He was everywhere; invading your senses and claiming your body in a way you’d only envisioned late at night when you would touch yourself. This whole scenario was taboo and so fucking wrong, yet you couldn’t recall the last time you were this turned on. Your mind was totally fogged and your pussy was leaking like a broken faucet, undoubtedly soaking your panties. 

“Bet you’re dripping for me,” Jungkook mused huskily, expertly shrugging the denim down your thighs and rubbing his index finger over your clothed slit, “fuck. You’re drenched.” 

He wasn’t lying. You were absolutely saturated. Your panties were undeniably ruined. “Do something.” You complained, bucking your hips as he rubbed his fingers over your panties. 

“Bossy,” he chuckled with mischievous eyes, “love putting me in my place like I said.” Jungkook removed his hands from the apex of your thighs (despite your whines) and cupped both your clothed breasts. He squeezed and kneaded at the soft mounds, producing soft, breathy moans from the back of your throat. 

“Touch me.” You pleaded. 

“I am touching you, honey.” His cocksure smirk was basically audible. 

“Fuck off Jeon,” you hissed through gritted teeth, trying to hold back your moans but it was practically impossible when he lifted your shirt and expertly tweaked your nipples through your bra. “Please touch me properly.” 

Jungkook wasted no time in peeling your shirt from your body, discarding the garment somewhere on the table with the rest of your (now abandoned) laundry. He dipped his head down to where your neck met your shoulder, leaving wet, open mouthed kisses along your skin as he unclasped your lacy bra. 

“So fucking pretty.” 

You whimpered when your breasts became exposed to the cool air of the laundry room, shifting your weight on the washer that was still slightly vibrating as it continued its current wash cycle. You wondered if Jungkook had planted you here on purpose. 

Seconds after your bra was flung away, you mewled when you felt the cool contrast of Jungkook’s piercings against your peaked nipple. The heat from his tongue swirling around your areola left you shivering, head knocking back as he suckled on your tit. He groped at the other one, rolling your nipple between his fingers and pinching it to tease you. 

“Jungkook!” You resorted to a moaning mess, bucking your hips in desperation as he played with your breasts. “Please.” 

He released your nipple at your plea, dropping you a cheeky wink and then proceeded to kiss down your naked upper body towards your clothed center. Your hands found purchase in his long, raven locks, grasping at the strands. 

His skilful and beautifully inked fingers hooked the waistband of your panties, dragging the flimsy material down your quivering legs. Jungkook husked out a groan at the sight of your glistening pussy; wishing he could capture the moment in his brain and keep it there forever. 

“You’re such a filthy little slut,” he tsked, “soaking wet for your big sister’s ex boyfriend. What would she think if she saw you right now, hm? What would she do if she saw her sister naked with a greedy pussy craving my cock?” 

Your cheeks burned at the degradation. The hair that resided at the nape of your neck prickled at his provocative words, meanwhile your pussy clenched around nothing. That little traitor loved his filth and wanted nothing more than to be filled to the brim with his girth. 

After a few heavy breaths, you finally managed to answer him: “I don’t wanna talk about her.” 

“Oh?” Jungkook’s eyes twinkled naughtily. He took both hands and spread your legs even further, lifting them up over his broad shoulders. “You don’t wanna be reminded that you’re being a little whore? It’s okay baby, I like you even better like that.” 

Without warning, Jungkook dived straight into your wetness. His lips suctioned around your engorged clitoris, sucking the sensitive bud into his hot mouth. 

“F-Fuck!” 

The man between your thighs hummed in approval at your response, absolutely feasting off your juices and your breathy moans. He groaned lowly when your fingers carded through his hair before yanking hard on the strands. You were tugging him closer and Jungkook was absolutely here for it. 

He dragged his nose along your slit, teasing you briefly before finally giving you what you so desperately ached for: his tongue. 

“So fucking good.” 

“Jungkook.” All you could do was whimper his name unabashedly. 

He lapped his tongue at your slick folds, slurping obscenely. The sound was so lewd that usually you would’ve flushed in mortification—but you were far too dazed to give a shit. He was making you feel better than any of your battery boyfriends ever could. 

“Best fucking pussy I’ve ever had. Can’t believe I wasted my time on hers when I could’ve had this.” 

As if his words weren’t enough, the way Jungkook waggled his tongue up and over your aching cunt was more than enough indication that he immensely enjoyed eating you out. 

“God!” You whimpered, fisting his onyx colored locks. “Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.” 

Jungkook loved the way you begged for him. He growled gravelly in approval, dipping his tongue inside your seeping hole in hopes to have your thighs squeeze around his head. “Like fuckin’ hell I’m gonna stop. S’obsessed with this pretty cunt.” 

You tightened around him almost immediately, crying out his name desperately. 

“That’s it pretty girl,” he rasped out encouragement, “keep saying my name like that and I’ll let you come.” He replaced his tongue with two long fingers then, curving upwards against your snug walls. He located that spongy spot inside you within mere seconds, jackhammering his digits in a delicious rhythm that had you keening. 

You practically sobbed out his name, head thrown back and breasts bouncing in perfect sync with his handiwork. You were a fucking sight to behold and Jungkook knew that this wouldn’t be the only time. It couldn’t be. He needed to have you every single fucking minute, every single fucking second. Twenty-four-seven, seven days a week. 

“Wanna come,” you strangled out through a string of high pitched moans and squeaky whimpers, “please lemme come.” 

“Yeah?” Jungkook chuckled against your heat, quickening the pace of his fingers. He knew you were close; it was so fucking obvious. The way you were clawing at his scalp and grinding shamelessly against his face was proof in the pudding. “Gonna come for me? Gonna make a mess on my tongue like the dirty little slut you are?” 

You weren’t sure what compelled you to squeal—either the way he grazed your g-spot or the nasty words that fell from his spider-bitten lips. Or both. 

The familiar tightening sensation that pooled in your lower belly only got more intense as Jungkook ruthlessly fucked your cunt with his inked fingers. You were so close and you knew without a shadow of a doubt that this orgasm was going to hit you like a tsunami. 

Your moans increased in volume and octave as you climbed higher and higher—only to have your climax ripped from you within milliseconds. 

Lifting your head up to meet his mischievous expression, you gaped at the man inexplicably. “What the fuck?!” 

“Such a dirty mouth,” Jungkook chuckled in self-satisfaction, bringing his moistened fingers to his lips and sucking off your juices, “for someone with such a sweet pussy.” 

You glowered at him. How fucking dare he not make you come? 

“You’re a bigger dick than I thought.” You hissed in his direction, shoving him back by the shoulders. You didn’t dare gawk at the swirls of marvelous body art that covered his arms—now wasn’t the time to appreciate his body when he just denied you of what would’ve been the best orgasm of your life. 

Grinning devilishly, Jungkook reached behind his head and shed his wife beater from his upper body. The way he peeled off the material was nothing but sinful and your pussy squelched at the motion. He stood before you in nothing but his ripped jeans, the denim hanging low on his trimmed waist. 

You wanted him bad. And you absolutely hated yourself for it. 

“Think I’m a big dick, huh?” He captured your hips with his large hands effortlessly, yanking you (more like manhandling you) off the washer and bending you over the edge of the table. The same table that held your forgotten laundry on the opposite end. 

Your ass was now exposed to him and the compromising position stirred something deep inside of you. 

“How’s this for a big dick?” Jungkook husked, bucking his pelvis and prodding his denim-clad bulge against the swell of your ass. “Are you gonna be a good little whore and take it?” 

“J-Jung—”  

“Gonna take your sister’s boyfriend’s cock?” 

You didn’t bother to correct him. Not when he was grinding his erection against your ass, creating a delectable friction. Your mouth hung open and no words came out; only tiny, strangled noises.  

Jungkook wasn’t satisfied with the lack of verbalization. His hand collided with your right ass cheek, leaving a slight mark and causing you to shriek out a moan. “Use your words, honey.” 

“Y-Yes!” 

He hummed in disapproval, delivering another slap to the other cheek, “yes what?” 

Head lolling forward, tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you whimpered at the tantalizing condition of pleasure and pain. “Yes Jungkook, I’m g-gonna take it!” Your words were jumbled together, slurred and stuttered. 

You were turning into a crybaby and Jungkook was so fucking turned on. Never had you been at someone’s mercy like this before. All you wanted was to feel full of him. You wanted to be owned by him. Little did you know, he wanted that too. And had for the longest time. 

“Good girl.” He cooed, calloused hands gently rubbed at the reddened flesh. “Keep being a good girl for me, ‘kay? Gonna give you what you need, pretty baby.” 

The sound of a zipper being undone followed, leaving you quivering in anticipation. You pushed your backside out towards him, purposefully shaking your hips in order to entice him to fuck you. You were sick of waiting. You needed to feel your walls dragging along his cock. 

Jungkook, on the other hand, had a different idea in mind. He quickly untucked his hardened erection from his boxer briefs, palming himself for a few moments. He hissed gruffly at the sensation, fisting his cock in his tattooed hand until he was leaking pre-cum from the mushroom tip. 

“Got me so fucking hard,” a guttural grunt escaped his lips, “gonna fuck you just as hard.” Jungkook teased the head of his cock between your plushy ass cheeks, causing you both to release a suppressed gasp.

His words ultimately carried promise. One that you wholeheartedly believed he was going to live up to. 

Although you couldn’t deny that you were becoming fed up with the teasing. “Can you hur—”  

Your impatient demand died with a loud yelp as Jungkook nudged his cock between your creamy folds, thrusting inside of you with one rut of his hips. 

“Fucking shit!” The male cursed from behind you, snapping his hips against your backside with fervour. “So fucking tight, honey.” 

He wasn’t over-exaggerating—your slick walls were hugging his throbbing length like a vice. Your eyes rolled to the back of your skull as Jungkook drilled into your cunt, his cock hitting all the right places. 

“Should’ve fucked this pussy six months ago.” He growled. 

Heat spreads across your entire body. Your cheeks flushed, your clitoris pulsed and your grip on the table wavered. His admission implied that he wished he fucked you first instead of your sister and with the way he was slamming his cock in so fucking deep, you couldn’t help but believe him. 

Reaching for the back of your head, Jungkook gathered a fistful of your hair. He roughly tugged you back so that your stare zeroed in on your reflection in the doors of the floor to ceiling tumble dryers. 

You looked totally fucked out. Your lips were swollen, cheeks puffy and forehead sheen with a clear coating of sweat. Your eyes were glossy with unshed tears and your nipples were taut, aching for attention.

“Look at how good I’m fucking you, baby.”

Jungkook commanded through a gravelly rasp, his tongue swiping across his bottom lip as he increased the speed of his powerful thrusts. “What would your sister think if she saw this right now?” 

“Can we—ngh!—not talk about her? Just fuck me.” 

Jungkook laughed, like actually laughed in response. “Yeah, you’re right. Your pussy puts hers to shame any day. Who cares what she would think.” 

With that, he almost pulled out all the way, only to slam his cock back inside your squelching cunt. You were so fucking wet that you could hear every indecorous sound coming from your connected bodies over the whirring of washers.  

Jungkook growled at the lascivious echo of skin slapping skin, sucking in his bottom lip between his teeth. “Mm, yeah, so much better than your sister.” 

You genuinely wished he would stop bringing her up. Everything was already a competition between the two of you (had been since the day you were born) and this wasn’t exactly the kind of clusterfuck scenario you wanted added to the shit-pile. 

You bit back a moan. “I hate you.” You didn’t really. 

Chuckling haughtily, Jungkook released his grip on your makeshift ponytail and snaked his hand around the column of your neck instead. Grasping gently at your throat, he forced you to make eye contact with him through the reflection. 

Tears involuntarily slipped down your cheeks. Not because you were in pain, but because you were beginning to feel overstimulated. Jungkook’s thick cock stuffed you full in the most exquisite way and you were still experiencing aftereffects from the denied orgasm previously. 

“You hate me, huh? Is that why you’re crying over my dick?” He gave an almighty thrust to finalize his question. 

“Ungh!” 

Victoriously, Jungkook attached his lips to below your earlobe, nibbling on the sensitive skin with intentions to leave another mark, while he gently squeezed your throat once more. He fucking loved that you couldn’t answer him, because your body was doing all the talking he needed. His thrusts were starting to become sporadic—meaning his climax was impending—but he was determined to have you creaming all over his cock before he buried his load inside you. 

You gasped brokenly at the sensations that were exploding around your body. Your legs were trembling, thighs quivering, pussy convulsing. Every inch of your skin felt like it had been set alight and there was only one thing that could put it out. 

And that one thing was the man fucking you like no tomorrow. 

“Squeezing me so tight, holy shit,” Jungkook rasped, “is it because you’re watching me fuck you? Does that turn you on, pretty baby? You like getting off knowing if I can see you getting railed into oblivion then anyone who walks in can?” 

You sobbed out a wretched moan of his name. 

“You just pulled my cock all the way in—fuck!” He gnawed on his lip piercings, eyebrows furrowing as he freed your throat and gripped both of your hips with his enormous hands. “Naughty little girl. So dirty. Wanting to be watched as I fuck you full of my cum. Fucking love it.” 

“Jungkook!” 

“I know, honey. I’m gonna get you there.” 

Sprawling his palm across your lower back, Jungkook impelled your weight down onto the table and in effect, allowed his pulsing cock to slide in even deeper than before. 

You could’ve sworn you felt him in your guts. 

The two of you groaned in unison and Jungkook only waited for a split second before increasing the pace of his thrusts. With a newfound motivation, the raven haired male pounded into you from behind like it was his last mission on earth. He grinned ceremoniously when you squealed as he brushed your cervix. 

“Hold on, pretty baby. Gonna make you scream.” And that was a promise. 

Slithering his hand between your thighs, Jungkook located your swollen clitoris with ease and immediately started drawing a figure of eights over the sensitive nub. 

More tears cascaded down your cheeks as your body shuddered in pleasure. Your walls clenched down on his throbbing length as that familiar sensation from earlier reappeared, only this time more intense than ever. 

“S’close…” You slurred, drunk on euphoria. 

“That’s a good girl,” Jungkook murmured hotly against the shell of your ear, delivering hard but sloppy thrusts deep within your quaking cunt, “now come for me.” 

You cried out his name as your climax crashed over your body; knocking the breath from your lungs and causing your heart to pound rapidly in your chest. Tingles exploded from your thrumming clit, to your taut nipples and all the way down to the tip of your toes. 

Jungkook couldn’t tear his gaze away from the dryer door, eyes fixated on the compromising reflection of the both of you. He was enthralled with the way you had come for him; utterly entranced by your impeccable beauty and flawless body. 

He shortly snapped out of his reverie and resumed his movements, rutting his hips in order to chase his own orgasm. He wanted nothing more than to splatter your walls white with his hot cum, leaving traces of him in a way you couldn’t forget. In a way that had you craving him the same way he craved you. 

He meant it. He wanted you seven days a week. 

“So fucking perfect,” he grunted throatily from behind you, his thrusts now erratic as his climax approached, “better than she’ll ever be.” 

You were affronted but also unbelievably aroused. Reaching back, you grasped strands of his hair that resided at the nape of his neck. “J-Jungkook, come inside me. Wanna feel you.” 

He didn’t need to be told twice. 

With one almighty thrust, Jungkook croaked your name when his climax overcame his body. His dick twitched against your walls and spurted his hot cum deep inside your cunt. He leisurely thrusted to ride out both your highs, his hands kneading at your tender breasts simultaneously. 

Your eyes fluttered closed then, head nestling back into his toned chest and puffy lips parting as you relished in the afterglow of amazing sex. 

Jungkook once again peered at the reflection in the dryer with a smug smile. Only this time, it wasn’t because of you. It was because of her. A pair of scandalized eyes staring at the two of you, mouth agape. 

Pressing a delicate kiss to the side of your temple, Jungkook made sure his declaration was loud enough for your witness to hear: 

“Hey honey, just know that every time I would fuck your sister, I was thinking of you.” 

© tattookoo. all rights reserved 2023.

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Christmas Mass | PJM

Every Sunday, like clockwork, as designed and ordained, you sit quietly. Pray. Christmas mass comes, tonight your congregation dresses beautifully, like ornaments placed in a row right in front of God. Your priest stands at the head like an angel atop the tree, commanding and pious and hauntingly handsome. Red. You're a good faithful girl. You were taught to be, punished to be. You pray for respite, for something more than the condemnation this cold and icy town bestows upon you. Sinners. The coldness permeates your bones, you're always scared. Tainted. Terrified of sin, terrified by your thoughts for your priest. Sacrilegious. This Christmas prayers are answered by no God.

Jimin x reader Demon AU. Dark smut.

Hi this is my first really dark plot. I wanted to post this yesterday t-t, but well, I did make it in time for Sunday lol. If you like dark fics than keep reading, you're in for a wild ride. If you don't like dark fics, then stop reading right now :D

Trigger warning: 18+ dark themes, horror, dead body, blood, gore, demons, religion, church, smut, rough sex, sadism, reader manipulation, dubcon, sleep paralysis, blowjob, fingering, oral sex, spit play, edging times a thousand, choking, degradation, dark ending

Word Count: 7.5k

---

CHRISTMAS EVE.

Church bells ring.

Back and Forth, resounding and loud. Hollow echoing, the musical tone spreads out across your small town.

The clanging reverberates like a heartbeat, steadily growing louder with each step closer. You felt the deep vibrations thumping inside you, the church just on the horizon. Like a beacon to others, but to you, to you it felt foreboding. If the church was a beast, the bells were it’s roar.

The procession walks so solemnly for such a festive occasion. Snow crunches beneath the throng of churchgoers.

The bells ring.

You hear your own heavy breathing, a familiar hiss in your ear to move out of the way.

“Yes Mother.”

The ice and rocks hurt your soles. Your heels are too tight, too constricting around your feet.

The women around you dressed in jewel tones, in their best dresses, faces powdered, lipstick heavy, too much perfume.

The men around you wore coats and hats, warm and cozy, blessings for the breadwinners.

But you, you have to freeze.

In thin expensive material, in painful shoes and compressing undergarments, your hair pulled tight, your face itchy and you can’t scratch, lest you ruin your meticulous makeup. The wives clinged to their husbands, shivering in the cold.

You shivered, alone.

You fell further back into the crowd with no man to hurriedly pull you along, to badger you to move faster. God, these women must hate their lives as much as you.

Day one of three.

Three days of this. Three days stuck inside these pious walls. You might as well be one of those bells, aching under strain, always moving and never getting anywhere.

The small chapel was filled.

In every pew, churchgoers stand shoulder to shoulder. Air thick with incense and body heat. You prayed for your soul. This holy communion was not comforting, this was not fun. The only thing you looked forward to was-

Him.

On Cue, Father Jimin Park ascended to the forefront. Draped in gold, angelic in his robes, ethereal in his movements, an icon of faith.

You prayed. You endured the smell of musk and the rising temperature to watch him move across the stage. You listened to his sermon, hypnotized by his voice, in awe of his presence.

He’s commanding. Commanding attention, commanding respect. Eyes sharply watching, peering into the eyes of each member of the congregation, he kept his gaze steadfast. You longed for Jimin to notice you, look at you, see you...

It was unfair, you wished to be like him. Father Park was magnificent. You were a nobody, a disappointment of a daughter, unwed, misunderstood. You prayed for what he had. You prayed for his confidence, his passion. His sermons captivated, and when he sang...his singing made you really believe in a higher power.

He’s beautiful. Your church’s newest Pastor caught the eyes of every woman in town, but he was a man of God. Built like The Gods, more like it. Physique apparent under even the cascading fabric of his robes. But he kept to himself, smiled gently and reproached any woman’s flirting. You watched from a distance, too shy to ever strike up conversation, even if you yearned to befriend the distant newcomer, to-

You prayed. He was a man of faith, you told yourself, a man of God. You felt shameful in your longing thoughts.

And yet your thoughts whispered over your prayers, growing more and more depraved. You were captive to the fantasies running through your head.

You tried to focus on Jimin’s words, but you thought of his lips instead, full and soft, running gently along your cheek.

You tried to focus on the gospel, but you imagined his sweet voice against the shell of your ear instead, calling your name, whispering vile things the holy man in front of you would never think to say.

You prayed, pulling your thighs together, tight, subduing the ache inside, and focused on the man in front of you. His alluring eyes, his enchanting smile. In your mind his eyes turned dark, his smile turning seductive...

He’s sinful. You shook your head, breaking away from your fantasies. You prayed-

You almost jumped when Jimin’s eyes caught yours and held your gaze, his smile widening. You felt caught, trapped under a microscope like a bug, on your back, legs spread, about to be dissected.

You couldn’t keep your eyes connected any longer, too hot under his stare, letting go of what you wanted desperately. You turned back to your bible, buzzing inside from the moment you shared. You were weak and foolish, just like your parents always said.

“Body of Christ.”

You cupped your hands in front, but Jimin raised his hand to your lips instead, smiling again.

The buzzing intensified, so close to him, you were able to admire the new Pastor’s beautiful features, able to reach out and touch him. You willed your body to remain calm.

But the heat inside you grew.

It was so shameful, how much you pined for him, arousal dripping between your legs, pooling in your underwear. A transgression you couldn’t control, your shame overflowing, sticky against your folds. It was wrong!

You prayed for forgiveness! For strength!

You held your breath, parting your lips, resting your tongue, you waited for the sacrament. Father Park stood elevated above you. It was overwhelming, how he towered over you.

He bent down closer.

You suppressed a shudder when his fingers pressed down on your tongue, surprised by the accidental graze. His small touch had your body reeling. You screamed your prayers in your head.

“Blood of Christ.”

You reached for the chalice as Jimin lifted the cup to your mouth. Your body froze as his adept fingers guided your jaw, tipping your head back to drink the red wine. Your sick fantasies resurfaced, thoughts of his hands all over you, caressing your jaw just as he did, wrapping around your throat, reaching inside of you, pulling you apart, bruising your body as his.

Jimin smiled sweetly down at you, eyes sparkling with warmth. You were distraught, heated by his attention, sinning in front of the eyes of The Lord, a weak heathenous woman, a sinner-

“A-Amen.”

CHRISTMAS DAY

“Forgive me Father, for I have sinned.”

“Y/n?”

“Father P-Park?”

“Forgive me, these should stay anonymous, but I recognized your voice. You seemed troubled the other day in mass.”

You kept quiet, too scared to speak. How did he recognize you? You've barely spoke to him, except in your confessionals. Had he known it was you all along?

“Are you still having your night terrors?” He had.

“Oh. Um y-yes.” You called them nightmares when you asked for The Lord’s forgiveness, but they were worse, dreams fueled by cardinal sin, torturing you for nights on end. “But t-that’s not w-why-”

“What is so wrong that you seek out forgiveness on Christmas Day?” His voice was playful, an attempt to calm your nerves, but the thought of answering him made your stomach turn.

How could you tell him you needed reprieve from your lust-filled thoughts, when he was the subject of your desires? How humiliating. So you improvised.

“I-I want to run away.”

“Run?” This peaked the pastor’s attention, “From what?”

“This town!” You cover your mouth in your outburst. Looking over to the curtain, you try to make out the expression of his shadowy figure to no avail. “From m-my f-family,” you exhale. “I just - I just feel like I’m meant for more. I’m so tired - I’m so sick of this place. I hate it,” you spit out.

There’s silence behind the pleated curtains, a softness to Jimin’s words once he finally speaks. “Hate is a strong word.”

“I’m sorry,” you apologize immediately. However, you meant what you said, you felt the truth behind your words as soon as you spoke them. “I want to leave, but my parents-” You scoff at the realization, running away really would be your only means to escape this town. “They would never allow it. I-I’m an adult, I should be able to make my own choices, live my own life-”

“It is only natural for a parent to want to shield their child, try to understand it from their perspective.”

“I-I’m sorry, please forgive my transgressions.” Your heart rate quickens, you bit your tongue and waited for your penance, keeping your thoughts to yourself. A devout man like Father Park could never understand the doubts you held.

Jimin sighs, “You are wise to stay. You are very blessed, I have only just come and I see the opportunities here.” What opportunities could be in this slowly decaying town? “The world is full of dangers that could lead sweet girls like you astray.”

Your chest tightens, anger bubbling up inside you. Rage so sweet, another opportunity for Jimin.

“Have you spoken to your parents about this?”

“They’ll never listen-” you say bitterly.

“Try.”

---

You cried, walking the quiet streets of your town after fighting with your mother. The bitter cold was nothing compared to the bitterness inside you. Why couldn’t your parents see your unhappiness? They were as blind as their faith, and as judgmental too.

You were tired, yet this small freedom you didn’t want to let go. You walked the edge of the town, wishing for the courage to step over it’s boundaries once and for good.

“Father Park?” A man stood under a street lamp, illuminated by the yellow glow. When he turned, his beautiful face was unmistakable. He dressed in black, so different from his long white robes. The signature white collar of his priesthood around his neck.

What was Jimin doing on the edge of town? So far away from The Church, which sat at the town’s center. “Aren’t you cold?”

“I’m used to it, I’ve lived in colder areas,” he smiles, folding his arms, his forearms bare, the sleeves of his black dress shirt folded up despite the cold. How is he not freezing? You hugged your body, you could feel the coldness through your coat into your bones. “You should go inside, y/n. You’ll catch a cold.”

His hands run up and down your arms. It was a kind gentle gesture. The thoughts that followed were not.

Jimin noticed your bloodshot eyes, “What’s wrong?”

You shook your head, pulling away. “I-I’m fine, sorry I bothered you.” You turned to leave, but his hands remained on your shoulders, yanking you back.

“Wait! Here, come sit down.”

You could feel the bench's cold metal frame through your clothes, Jimin's warm body pressed close to your side. You wanted to lean into his warmth further, but held steadfast in shame, for your body was seeking more than just comfort.

“Why are you out here all alone? You know it’s dangerous to walk alone in the night, even on The Lord’s Day.”

You laugh softly, “I very much doubt this night could get worse.”

Jimin frowns. “This does not have the discretion of a confessional, but know I am here to talk, if you’d like.”

You stay silent, holding back unshed tears.

“Y/n?” His finger pulls at your chin, shocking you out of your stupor. “Please talk to me. I want to help. I would be remiss if I left a pretty young woman crying alone on Christmas Day.” He speaks softly, soothingly. It made you feel worse, the pity he was giving you. It was pitiful, how you were acting.

“I-I’m sorry. I’ve just had a fight with my parents. I’ll be okay, don’t worry. I-I’m fine.” You hope he believes your wavering smile, the excess cheer in your voice.

“Let’s go inside, c’mon, before you catch a cold. I think we’ve both hidden for too long.”

“No, I’m f-fine-” You didn’t want to go back yet, back into the stuffiness of your room, stuck like a prisoner.

His fingers interlocked around yours, pulling you up. “Then come with me, let’s go to the church.”

You followed him obediently, like a lamb to slaughter.

The streets were empty, everyone gone inside their homes, doing what you should be doing, spending the holiday with their loving families.

Instead you walked in the darkness. The night was still. Serene in your mind, the pastor’s presence made the quiet feel pleasant, the deserted town feel quaint.

You walked slowly back into town. The darkness of the winter slowly brightened along the path. Father Park did not let go of your hand.

You shifted your eyes down, unbelieving of your circumstance. You knew he was only doing this out of pity, you knew it meant nothing, but your heart wouldn’t listen. Your heart jumped inside your chest with each step and swing of your connected wrists.

The church felt so empty now, the smell of incense gone, a cool draft wafting over the pews. You followed Father Park inside, straight to the Church’s altar. He held your hand still, much to your delight. At the head of the church, you looked back, to see what he sees every weekend.

He pulled you further. You walked along the walls, past the crucifixion. Behind the large cross there were a hidden quarters.

---

“Are you thirsty? There’s not much here but wine, but it will warm you up.” He poured two glasses.

“T-Thank you.” Inside the small backroom there was only one seat at the table and a small cot in the corner. You stood awkwardly. Should you sit on the bed?

The red liquid burned your throat, you could feel it trickle down to the pit of your stomach, warming you instantly. This was much stronger than the watered down communion. You held the cup to your heart, letting the warmth cascade down your limbs.

Father park smiled sweetly, leaning back on the old wooden chair, legs extended and spread.

“What to do with you.”

“S-Sorry?” You look up immediately, startled that you had been caught looking at his body.

His expression changed, before you could properly understand, before you could realize his ulterior motives. He smiled warmly at you again. Father Park Jimin was smiling at you, seeking out your company, one of the most beautiful men you’ve laid eyes upon. Was it a Christmas miracle?

The coat you wore felt too warm now, you pulled it awkwardly off your body. You still wore your church dress, your shoes changed to more comfortable boots. You ran a shaky hand along your brows, smoothing down your eyebrow hairs and wiping away the growing perspiration, shifting your weight between your legs.

“Here, sit.” Jimin stands, offering you his chair.

“Oh! No, it’s alright.”

Jimin has already moved the chair to your side, he sits against the table instead.

You should have just taken a seat on the bed.

This position was much worse. You kept your head awkwardly tilted up, scanning the room. It was so bare and empty compared to the church's decorated walls, covered in artifacts, in this room only hung one lone cross, tilted on its axis by a missing nail.

You let out a strained breath, looking anywhere but the man in front of you, his thighs spread, leaning back across the table, looking like a picture of relaxation. But you, you are more tense than ever. You kept your legs crossed, your body folded into itself. You didn’t want to accidentally brush against his leg, to make him uncomfortable.

You take another sip of the wine. “Can I ask you a question?” Jimin asks. You nod. “You have no husband. No boyfriend, at least from what I’ve noticed during mass-” You didn’t know whether to feel elated by the fact that Father Park had noticed you, or humiliated that it was glaring obvious that you were alone. “Is that one of the reasons you want to leave?”

“N-No. I just want more, to see the world."

Jimin sighs. “The choir girls like to talk...” Jimin rubs the back of his neck, looking away. “I heard what happened to your fiance, I’m sorry.”

You played with the buttons of your dress, looking down. You tried not to stare at his thighs, spread open in front of your trembling body. “It was a long time ago.”

Your parents had arranged a suitor for you. He was nice, average, a decent man. He was everything your parents ever wanted for you. It was an easy bland relationship, a perfect union, and then there was an accident-

You thought of the crash many winters ago. The images you tried to forget flashed through your mind.

The red headlights, the tires sliding against the ice.

You came to, cut and bleeding.

Broken glass, blood, clouds of smoke.

When you turned to look at the driver, your fiance, his face…his eyes…his grey lifeless face…his swollen dead eyes…

You screamed, you cried for help. Cold, hurt. The happy life you were promised was over before it began.

You hated yourself, because the horrible truth is you never wanted to marry that man. You prayed. You wanted another chance, you wanted to find real love, but not like this, not this way.

You jumped when Jimin placed a hand on your head.

“I know it might feel like you’ll never find someone like him again, but a beautiful girl like you? Just have faith.”

“Yes, faith.” You gave him a strained smile, but inside you were screaming, just like that day of the crash.

You hated this town, the gossiping, the way everyone needed to know everyone else’s business and yet they treated other people’s problems like a nuisance, your pain like a nuisance. And now their meddling had reached Father Park.

Now there was no one left in this town that didn’t know your sordid past.

How long did he know? Were all those commiserations his way of trying to fix you? Did he see you as broken? It wasn’t you, but your dirty little secret that made him notice you?

“I need to get home,” you mutter.

You jump up from the chair, and at that same moment Father Park decides to move off the table. Your bodies crash into one another. The awkward scramble to right yourselves lessens the tension for just a bit, only a little, a small laughter shared between you and gentle hands adjusting each other. But when you look into his eyes, you can’t help but feel exposed again, dissected into parts, unable to make yourself whole. “I’m sorry, I have to - Goodbye, Father Park.”

Without hesitation you run, unwilling to look back or accept that Father Park called you beautiful.

“Excuse me, s-sorry!” you apologized to the man you ran into in your haste, the quiet organ player of your church. He held you steady and your body swayed into his.

“Sorry, I m-must be tired.” The day was almost over, you need sleep, you wanted rest now more than anything. Your body leaned against his chest, your eyes growing heavy, you could barely keep them open. Your head rested against his chest, you felt the shake of his soft laughter against your temple.

“Did you want me to take you to bed?”

“Let her go, Min.” Father’s park voice sounded so far away, like you were in a dream-

The organ player let you go.

You offered your apologies again, clutching your aching head, and left running.

“She smells so sweet. She’s easily corruptible.” The organ player stretches his tired body. “When will I get my fun?”

“Quiet Min, let me work.” Jimin walks towards Min Yoongi, his oldest friend. He sways down the center aisle in a dance, his palm running along the pews, singeing the wood with each touch, applying small disfigurements to the House of God. He grinned in satisfaction.

“Your methods take so long,” Yoongi yawns. “How tiresome.”

“I disagree, I think the hunt is the best part.” He smiles wickedly, swinging his arm over the organ player's shoulder. “A small push here and there to weaken her bit by bit,” Jimin dances his fingers in the air as if he were stroking keys on a piano.

He inhales deep, eyes rolling in the back of his head, groaning loudly. “I can smell her desperation from here. You could never understand the thrill of the chase!” Jimin laughs, the echoes carry through the empty church like a distorted melody.

Yoongi rolls his eyes, “I prefer to use my energy where it counts. It could have been done tonight.”

“Do you pick a fruit before it’s ripened? She is so close to letting her lust consume her, and then she’ll be mine!” He rolls his tongue across his teeth, sighing from the thought.

Yoongi scoffs, “Ours.”

---

That night your dreams came back.

It was always Father Park at the center of your fantasies. This time your thoughts drifted to the vision of him as he was tonight, in all black, tight clothes, hard muscles. He chuckled in the shadows as your body twisted on its own, aching for relief. Your heartbeat fluttering, ribcage tightening from the pressure of your desire. A vision of him stood over you, his dark brown eyes glowing like amber as he watched you, your twisted fantasy of him slowly undressed for you as you whimpered like a dog in heat.

Unable to speak, unable to call for him or call for help, you could only gasp softly as you watched him move closer to you, slowly and purposefully along the edge of the bed.

“So beautiful. So divine.” Jimin moaned your name. Your blanket pulled away, followed by your pants, and then your panties, leaving your body exposed to the cold, nipples hardening under the thin fabric of your sleep shirt. The only warmth you felt was the growing ache between your legs as your limbs stayed locked in sleep. Pliable. Ready to be used.

Jimin gripped your thigh and pulled you open. He smiled, reaching for your other leg, pulling you wider, standing over you his heated eyes watched you like a piece of art, studying your splayed out form.

You whimpered, trying to call out to Jimin. His hand on your skin felt so real, a reflection of gentle hands on your earlier, your fantasy twisted the memory into harsh unforgiving fondling.

You panted as his fingers dug into your soft flesh, fingers like claws, scrapping along the length of your leg, nails digging into your skin. You’re left to grunting helplessly as he scratches along the expanse of your skin, down one leg and up another.

It was just a dream, a figment of your imagination. You knew he couldn't hurt you. Or rather, his pain felt good, a part of your fantasies, like scratching an itch.

Your breathing escalated when his black eyes came closer. A dream, you told yourself, this was all a depraved dream. A version of Father Park your sick mind created, a taunting teasing sadistic version. No matter how real it felt…

His hot tongue ran along your scratches, up and up and up your body. You stayed frozen, tormented like Tantalus, with everything you ever wanted in front of you and still unable to grasp your desires. His toned body seductively moving against you in a sensuous dance. A heaviness veiled over you, heaviness in your groin, no amount of clenching would take away the ache, your body became desperate. You begged your mind for more.

Tears cascaded down your face as you endured Jimin’s teasing touches, wishing you had been a more courageous woman when you had your chance. You had wanted Father Park even knowing how forbidden he was, and now your mind was punishing you for it.

His hot tongue ran along your breast, lapping at your sensitive nubs, up your neck, across your jaw, so painfully slow you wanted to scream. He licked away your tears. “Crying for me? Crying for cock? Such a desperate slut.” You whimpered as his fingers slid down your tongue, opening your mouth for him.

“Whining to be filled by me? You want me to punish you for all those dirty little thoughts in your head, don't you, slut?” His thumb pressed down, fingers holding your jaw, moving your head to nod.

Your eyes closed, overwhelmed by your desires. Your chest felt heavy, his thighs pressing you down, shortening your breath. Your arousal intensified, you were becoming so wet you felt it on your thighs, sticking to your sheets.

You open your eyes to his legs around you, a devilish grin on Jimin’s face, so unlike Father Park’s warm smile, this vision of him looked elated, drunk on the power he had over you.

This leaking cock laid over your face, painting your skin with his essence. “This is what you want, isn’t it? For me to use you like a filthy whore, yeah?” He laughed at the agony across your features. Jimin took his time playing with you, pulling the chords of your sanity until each one snapped, until you were crazed for him.

Gathering spit, he let it fall on his cock and between your parted lips, fingers wiping the liquid over your cheeks, painting your face with his cum and saliva.

His fingers run along the corners of your wet mouth as he bends over and releases more of his spit into your open cavity. “This is better than the blood of Christ, don't you think?” He laughs, biting his lip, delighting in your struggle. “Swallow, and I’ll give you my cock.”

He giggles wickedly as you do as he says. “Ahh so perfect! So willing to be corrupted. My sweet little lamb.”

Jimin rolled his hips into the wetness of your mouth, pressing deep into the hollowness of your throat. You inhaled his scent as your nose met his skin, he smelled so good, he felt so hard and thick around your lips.

You choked on his thickness with every deep thrust. You were a mess of drool and spit and cum as he used your mouth for his own pleasure. No matter how good it felt to hear his moans, feel his cock slide down your tongue, you ached for pleasure too. You craved release. You needed him.

He released down your throat, his hot cum coating your mouth, your body twitched as your breath was stolen.

You coughed for air when he finally released himself from your mouth. You felt the coldness of his abandonment. The chilly air wrapping around your sweaty body, you shivered and ached for Jimin as he stood over you watching you again, pumping himself over your spread body.

Jimin slapped the sensitive skin of your thighs, leaving a welt across your skin. Your body flinched, a yell came out as a soft whine. Another harsh slap down on your dripping cunt was all you got from Jimin.

Your skin stung with each slap, eyes begging Jimin for his cock instead. Until finally, when you felt the last threads of your sanity unraveling, Jimin plunged his cock deep inside your slick walls, searing your body with remarkable pleasure. You closed your eyes, appreciating the fullness.

“Such a desperate fucking slut.” he groans. “Look at you, I bet you could cum on my cock if I stayed just like this.” He stayed still against you and no matter how hard you tried you couldn’t will your hips to lift. “Not yet, you’re not ready yet.”

You woke up, drenched in sweat and face messy with tears. You body buzzing and shaking with need. Your limbs now listening, you immediately reached for your core, fingers running over your lips, your clothes drenched in your juices. It was almost immediate that you came, so quick and fast your release wasn’t even fulfilling.

You whimpered, maddened, fingers swiping along your drenched core over and over, trying for another orgasm, but your weak fingers were not good enough, and your second release never came. Your body ached, core sore, your arms and fingers tired, you cried all night, praying for release. Praying for Father Park to fuck you. So lost in lust and depravity you never noticed black eyes watching you from the darkness, soft laughter in the corner of your room.

CHRISTMAS MASS

“How long has it been since your last confession?”

“F-Father P-Park?”

“Y/n?”

Your insides twisted painfully, sore and throbbing. You felt invigorated that it was him again answering you behind the veil.

You yanked the curtain open, meeting the surprised face of Father Park. He wore silver robes for the special Sunday mass, sparkling like a vision of divinity.

“Father Park, I-”

“Are you okay, y/n, do you have a fever?” his hand reached out to you, caressing your forehead. You pull your lips into your mouth, quivering with despair.

And like a dam bursting, you cry, falling into his silver robes. He runs his hands soothingly along your hair, your back, but his touch felt like fire, and your body burned with need.

“F-Forgive m-me Father, f-for I have s-sinned.”

He shushes you, holding you close.

“Go ahead and speak, tell me your sins.”

“I c-can’t get these thoughts out of my head. I c-can’t.” you cried.

“What thoughts? Describe them to me.” He hugs you closer, arms resting low around your hips. You shuddered in his embrace. Your hands fisted into his robes, afraid you’ll pull him to you if you let your grip relax. Idle hands are the Devil’s plaything, they say. And right now, your body felt like a doll on a string, moving of its own accord.

“I can’t tell you. It’s too shameful...”

“The Lord’s judgement can be harsh, I know that scares you,” he whispers soothingly, “But there is no judgement from me here. You can trust me, y/n.”

You looked up, into Jimin’s eyes, now so close from your proximity. His eyes looked at your caringly, searching your for answers. You breathed in his smell, his scent conjuring visions of your dreams. His lips so close all you needed to do was lean over.

You moved away quickly, pressing yourself into a corner, unable to look Father Park in the eye.

You squeezed your eyes closed. “I h-have lustful thoughts.”

“Be specific, I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me.” You felt his body move closer.

“I have lustful thoughts about you!” You wail, head in your hands.

Jimin slowly pulls your hands away from your eyes, lifting your chin,

‘And what lustful thoughts do you have of me?”

He is so close, body now pressed against you in the tiny confessional. He didn't seem upset by your confession, instead he waited patiently for you to answer him.

“You’re touching me. I’m so sorry, I-”

“Where am I touching you?” He holds the back of your head, so you can’t look away. So you have to meet his eyes when you tell him.

“Everywhere. Everywhere on my body.” you whisper, entranced by his deep piercing eyes.

“Exactly where? Touching you on your shoulders?” His palms rest on each shoulder blade.

You shake your head, biting your lip so hard you taste copper. You shift uncomfortable, already wet again.

“Y-your touching my breasts-”

You gasp when he moves his hands from your shoulders, placing them atop each breast, gripping your mounds tight, almost painfully.

You cry out involuntarily, a hand covers your mouth to stop your sounds, smacking your head harshly into the wooden wall of the confessional, his other hand never slowing down, pulling and kneading your breasts. You moan into his palm, whimpering, eyes wide with shock, unable to think, unable to make sense of what’s happening. You can’t believe it, Father Park is sinning, with you.

“Where else do I touch you in your thoughts, Sweetheart?” You can’t answer him with his hand tight against your mouth. “Do I touch you here?” His hand harshly grips your thigh. Digging into your flesh. You nod your head against his palm, wide-eyed.

“Do I touch you...here?” His thick fingers press inside you. Your entrance is so wet and slippery, three fingers glide in, your walls easily stretching around his digits. Your wetness doesn’t stop the pain from erupting at the intrusion. You moan and whimper against his palm, body seizing, twisting between the wall of the confessional and Jimin’s body.

“You think of me touching you right-” his eyes lower to your core, “-here, yes?” You quickly nod, head thrown back, tears of pleasure escaping the corners of your eyes as he pumps his digits harshly in and out of you. He finally removes his hand from your mouth. You grunt, shakily exhaling, whimpering as his fingers delve in deep. It was easier when you didn’t have to try to silence yourself and Jimin was doing it for you.

His body pressed in closer, as he whispered into your ear. “What else happens in your sinful thoughts, hmm? Do I fuck you?”

“Y-Yes.”

You yelp as his hand grabs your face harshly, pressing your cheeks together, squishing your lips into a perfect O. You looked up into his eyes peering down at you, scrutinizing each labored breath you took. He kisses your open mouth, his tongue pressed in deep, stealing the rest of your air. His thumb began rubbing deep circles into your bundle of nerves, leaving you shaking, desire overtaking your surprise.

Suddenly, Father Park stops his ministrations. “Quiet Angel, or we’ll get caught. What will The Town think of you then?”

You were close to combusting under his pressure. “Please Father. I-I want to cum.”

He presses his nose to your throat, inhaling you deeply. Your desperation smelled so sweet to his senses. “Not yet, think of it as penance for your sins. See you tonight, y/n.”

And before you could react he pulled away from you, drawing the curtain back. When you moved, searching him out, the confessional was empty alone for you.

‘Tonight...’

---

Your legs shook as you walked amongst the procession in your Sunday best. The winter wind stung your skin, the tips of your fingers felt like ice, but your body felt heated inside, your core throbbing.

You stop just shy of The Church’s entrance, watching as the procession marched inside.

You tried to make sense of Father Park's actions. He was like the man in your dreams, so ruthless, rough, unmerciful. It had felt so good.

You were scared. Something told you to leave. You almost turned on your heel and ran, but the desire for his touch pulled you in again.

The church was packed once more. Every row full, every seat taken, except one. You moved to the empty spot next to your mother. She scowled at your tardiness as you adjusting your body to fit in the crowded space.

The congregation stood up, the women dressed in extravagant clothes, dressing to outshine one another. You wore your favorite dress. It wasn’t for God, no it was for-

Him.

Father Park walked in shining, draped in the silver. Angelic. Commanding. Beautiful as sin.

One look at him and your body responded. Your insides churned, your stomach tightened, you felt you aching core becoming slicker. You laid your head against the front pew, praying on your knees.

Your thoughts drifting to him all night, heightened by the memory of the confessional. You felt yourself slipping into a lust filled haze, your desires running wild, you couldn’t catch up, you couldn't stop them, you were stuck in an impossible race.

When it came time for communion, you could no longer stay idle.

You left.

You ran.

At the edge of town, you stood unable to move for hours, too scared to go forward, to pitiful to go back. Father Park's words rang in your ears, 'What will The Town think of you then?'

This goddamned town was all you ever knew! You tried to muster up the courage to leave it now, praying for strength. You clenched your jaw, holding in a scream. God never answered your prayers, why would he now?!

You looked back one more time, you feared it would be now or never.

You turned to the forest and then you saw something that changed your decision. Pairs of red orbs began circling closer to you in the darkness.

Frightened, you ran for the only home you ever knew. Then you thought of your parents and stopped just shy of your destination. If you couldn’t feel safe at home, what were you to do?

The only place left to go was…The Church.

---

The church was pitch black inside, Sunday Mass long over, you were all alone.

Your heels clicked on the wooden floorboards as you walked inside. Then like magic, the candles around the walls caught aflame, casting the church in a fiery flow.

You heard a shift. You turned around, searching for the source of the sound.

“Father Park?” Jimin no longer wore his robes. He stood in front of you wearing a suit of deep red, dark hair lightened to blonde.

“Call me Jimin, y/n.”

“Jimin,” you swallowed.

“You left mass early,” he whispers sweetly in your ear.

You jumped at his sudden appearance behind you, “I’m sorry. I just-”

“I hope it wasn’t because of what happened.” Jimin licks his lips and places his hands in his pockets, circling your body. “Because you know, I've been thinking about it all day long,” he sighs. “How good you felt wrapped around my fingers.”

Your face heated at his brazen words. “But y-your vow to God-”

Jimin laughs, appearing in front of you suddenly. "Don’t worry about me, Angel. I’ll just ask for a little absolution. See, that’s the wonderful thing about your god, a little Hail Mary or two and-” You squeak as Jimin appears behind you again, gripping your fingers, waving your hands in the air, bringing his lips together with a pop. “All is right again. It’s almost like, hmm,” he lays his chin against your shoulder, “it’s too good to be true.”

You swallowed down your growing fear. “I don't understand what's going on, Father Par- Jimin.”

“Then let me show you.” He wraps his arms around your middle. Yanking you to his front.

In that instance, his tug felt otherworldly.

You looked around at the stained glass windows illuminated by red moonlight, then back at Jimin. You almost screamed when you noticed his black eyes.

You run towards the doors, but they shut abruptly, the bang echoing through the empty church.

“Oh little lamb, did you think I’d let you go now?” he tuts, “I've just gotten started.”

“Please don't hurt me.”

“I would never,” he whispers, caressing your cheek. “Your pleasure is more valuable to me than your pain.”

“Now, drink.” Jimin grins, pulling a chalice from behind his back, making you jump. “You missed your Communion.” He lifts the glass in mock cheers. You reach for the glass and he pulls away teasingly, taking a long drink. He drops the chalice on the floor, letting it bounce and roll away as he stalks closer to you.

You stand frozen, too scared to disobey. The way he watches you, you felt staked to the ground, unable to move from his penetrating gaze. He lifts your chin, pressing his mouth to yours in a kiss, parting your lips with his own. You felt the warm liquid fill your mouth, searing your throat. You pull away coughing.

“This is not real, this is not real,” you cough, wiping your mouth. Have you finally let your fantasies turn into delusions?

“This?” You jumped as Jimin gripped your hips, pulling you into him. “Is not real?”

You looked into his black eyes as they turned back to the familiar deep shade of brown you remembered. Jimin held your hand in his, bringing your fingers to his soft lips, you watched as he licks the tips of your pads, wetting your digits with his mouth, he closes his eyes in bliss. “This doesn't feel real?”

You couldn't help but moan at the sight, as he dragged your fingers to your core, running along the wet fabric. “Lace?” Jimin chuckled, “What a sweet sweet gift for me.” He presses your fingers together, entering inside you, guiding you in and out.

“When your ex-lover died in your arms, what did you feel?” he murmurs against your temple, softly kissing your cheek.

“I felt...happy.” the words left your mouth without thought. It was something you tried to deny over and over, a feeling so deep inside you, so unlike you, you couldn’t trust it. “No! I d-don’t know.”

Jimin tuts, pressing his fingers in deeper, “Naughty naughty, what happened to your honesty?” His licked the lobe of your ear and you felt his undeniable pull again.

“I f-felt free.”

“Good girl,” he whispers, “You prayed so loud, it was hard to ignore.”

“Please...”

"Your cries brought me here, little lamb. You wanted passion did you not? You wanted more than that boring dud of a man could offer, hmm?” Jimin pulled your fingers out of you swiftly, twisting your wrist, gripping your hair, he yanks you closer to him.

What have you done?

“Mmm you smell so fucking sweet.”

You swallowed hard, “What do you want from me?” You try to pull away but he yanks you by the hair back to him.

“It's not what I want from you, little lamb,” he laughs, his eyes back to the horrifying shade of black. “It's what you want from me. I'll give you what ever you desire, you just have to say the words.”

"No! Stop!"

“What do you want, y/n?” He moves closer to you, you retreated until you could no longer, legs hitting the alter. “What do you desire?”

You tried to fight it but his enticing scent filled your head, his sweet words wrapped around you, like snakes, slithering across your skin. “What do you pray for at night, when you're all alone? In your bed?”

He stands so close to you his nose bumps into yours, staring into your eyes, his hot breath on your skin. “Please, kiss me.”

Jimin smirked, lips hoovering over yours.

And then he fell to his knees, lifting your dress, placing a kiss on your mound.

You legs give out as he pushed the lace away from your core, pressing his lips to your clit. You grip the altar's edge, holding yourself up as Jimin lays greedy kisses against your core, drinking your wetness.

You cry out, falling back as Jimin lifts your body up, placing you atop the altar, his lips never parting from your center. He works his mouth over your sensitive bundle of nerves, your back lifts from the altar as he fucks his tongue into you, holding your legs over his shoulders. You moan and shake, body practically upside down, the blood rushing to your head. Jimin's skillful tongue brings you to the edge of ecstasy, stopping before you ascend.

“Please, don't stop,” you plead.

“Give your soul to me and I'll never stop giving you pleasure. I'll be yours forever.”

“Yes! Please!”

“You sure little lamb? Tell me how badly you want me.”

“Yes! I want you, Jimin, I need you!”

“You'll give up your soul all for me?”

“Yes!”

You sealed your fate, giving into your lust. Jimin had you now and for all eternity.

“Your soul, your body, your cunt is mine.”

“Yes, yes!”

---

Your body shakes, covered in sweat, your legs spread wide while Jimin rolls his hips. You lie on your back, naked, moaning his name. Jimin digs his nails into your sides, pulling you over his thick cock, rattling the altar table as he defiles your body over and over again.

You lost count how many times you came on his cock, Jimin's demon body had never-ending stamina. He came over your thighs, painting your skin in white, and swiftly turned your body around, pressing his hard cock back inside your swollen cunt. Your body dragged along the table cloth, smearing your chest and stomach in a pool of cum.

You cum violently, screaming, shaking around his cock. Jimin fucks into you, in and out, never stopping.

“You belong to me, y/n,” he growls, pistoning into you rapidly, “Tell me!”

“I belong to you!”

He thrusts in deeply, pulling your head back, lifting your body flush against his chest. “And now that you're mine, I'd like you to meet my friends,” he whispers into your ear.

He smiles against your clammy skin as your eyes scan the room. Appearing from the shadows, six men stand, handsome faces darkly watching you fall apart on Jimin’s cock.

“We can give you all the pleasures of life,” he whispers. You recognize the face of one of the men, the organ player who meets your eyes and smirks at you, licking his lips, eyes roaming over your naked cum covered body.

Even as your mind went blank, the cost of your sinfulness weighed heavy on your heart.

Your Christmas prayers had been answered, but you were now trapped in this desolate town forever.

---

Next Christmas story will be more uplifting, I promise :’D

Naughty Girl Christmas Masterlist

Mommy Issues Series Installment

Adventures with college student, Jeon Jungkook, and his growing obsession with his professor - you.

Warning: professor/student, cheating au, age difference, smut, yandere tendencies,

Total Word Count: 15.349

Hi, I was bored and never really did anything like this, so I thought why not start now 🤪🫶🏽

Installment 1 - mommy issues (1.363)

Your student is a little more convincing than he should be.

Installment 2 - homewrecker (1.961)

If Jungkook couldn't be happy with you, why should your husband be?

Installment 3 - cruel world (1.845)

It's sad your brother wasted all this time getting into college just to be expelled.

Installment 4 - sad girl (2.126)

Jungkook may be going away, but he'll forever be with you.

Installment 5 - freak (1.260)

Jungkook finds a way back into your world - and you let him.

Installment 6 - whore (1.535)

When you're lonely, Jungkook is always there.

Installment 7 - burning desire (2.071)

You allow Jungkook back into your life - fully.

Installment 8 - pity party (3.188)

When all things fail, and everyone leaves you - you're left with no one but Jungkook.