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The bitter, cold winter air filtered through cracks in the stone walls, seeping into the very bones of the building. The church towered in the dead of night, its high, twisting spires cutting through the stormy sky like jagged teeth. The interior was heavy with centuries of mumbled prayers, but tonight it seemed far from it. It was as if the sanctity had all seeped out through the walls to leave no remnants but shadows and the quietest creaking of old wood.
Young Father Jungkook sat in silence, clasping his hands together in prayer, while the faint scent of candle wax and incense lingered in the air. It was almost midnight and the silence inside the church was oppressive, but outside, the wind was shrieking as if it was the harbinger of a snowstorm.
For days, his prayers had grown louder and more desperate as he tried to drown out a voice that had made itself right at home in his mind. Hoseok .
A demon. An abomination . A temptation Jungkook knew he had to resist. And yet, every night for the past two weeks, Hoseok had appeared, unbidden and unrelenting— the gleam of his burning, crimson eyes a mockery of what the church stood for. His voice, smooth and sinuous, was always the same.
"Father, you’re so tense. Shouldn’t your God bring you peace, and not pain?"
Jungkook swallowed hard, remembering how easily the words had slipped into his mind just the night before, how they lingered long after Hoseok had disappeared. The tempter’s presence grew stronger, harder to shake off as the days moved closer to Christmas—the holiest of days, when light and hope should shine. Despite that, here he was, fighting shadows that took the form of a man, tempting him in ways that no other temptation had.
Stone walls, once a sanctuary of peace, now crowded in on Jungkook, hard and unyielding, shutting him into a fortress of faith that had begun to feel like a prison. The candles cast long, knotted shadows across the pews, their faint light barely enough to pierce the gathering darkness. It was as if with each flicker of the small flames, all silhouettes slithering around the corner came alive, ghostly shadows waiting to drag him into the abyss.
The brilliant stained glasses, full of light, were now muted and with the storm clawing at the panes outside, the colorful saints were contorted into unnatural poses as if to prolong the entrance of something far more sinister than a winter storm. The wind, too, howled like something breathing through the cracks.
The heavy crucifix hung above the altar, the figure of Christ carved into agony, shadows twisted to look as though His eyes followed Jungkook as he knelt. Even in prayer, there was no comfort. No peace. Only the cold, creeping dread that something far worse than the storm was closing in.
The silence was deafening, thick like a smothering blanket. And in that silence, Jungkook could feel it—Hoseok’s presence. The demon’s scent lingered, faint but unmistakable, like sulfur and smoke, hidden just beneath the familiar incense. The kind of smell that crawled under your skin and stayed there, refusing to leave.
Every night, it had been like this—a battle against a presence that grew stronger with each passing hour. Now, the church that was once his shield made him feel as if it was conspiring against him. The holy water had grown freezing cold and the very air smelled tainted with something that smelled unholy, as if the walls were watching him, as if they were waiting for him to break.
Just then, another howling gust of wind shook the church doors. Jungkook reminded himself it was just his imagination, that the storm was merely rattling them. The creaking increased as the heavy wooden doors groaned open made his heart sink inside, a deep weight settling in his chest. He didn't have to turn to know who it was in the entryway.
" Father ," The voice was silky-smooth, like melted dark chocolate, dripping with sin. The word curled around him, thick and inescapable, taunting him over the title that he was given. Jungkook clenched his hands and closed his eyes, mouthing one last whispered prayer to himself for strength.
"Fancy seeing you here," Hoseok's voice dripped with amusement, each word a little stretched out as he slowly closed the distance, savoring every step like a predator stalking its prey. Jungkook kept his eyes fixed in front, refusing to acknowledge the demon's presence, though he knew it was futile.
Hoseok did have a way of crawling under his skin.
Jungkook sneered, eyes fixed on the crucifix above. "You say that as if you didn't already know." His voice came sharp, cutting through the charged silence like a blade. Behind him, Hoseok tutted softly, the sound would be almost playful if not for the dark undercurrent. "You hurt me, Father," he purred, his body inching closer. The heat that came from Hoseok's body seemed to seep into the cold air between them– a stark contrast to the biting chill clinging to the church. Maddening it was, to feel that even in this sacred space, His sacred space, the unholy demon's presence felt crushing, consuming.
“Why do you torment me every night?” Jungkook’s voice trembled with frustration, the one question he had asked over and over in the solitude of his mind. He was no one special—just an ordinary priest in an unremarkable church in a small, forgotten town. Why had the demon chosen him?
“Oh, haven’t I told you, Father?” Hoseok’s voice dripped with amusement. A sudden hand, warm and unnervingly real , landed on Jungkook’s shoulder, freezing him in place.
The demon had never touched him before.
“You’re fun to play with,” Hoseok chuckled darkly. If he had dared to look up, Jungkook would have seen the flash of something dangerous—something hungry —cross the demon’s face. Lust, yes, but something more. Something much darker.
“That's all am I to you then? A mere plaything ?” Jungkook barely dared to move his body even though he was holding on by a fraying thread to not jerk away.
“Oh no no no,” the demon chuckled again, this time the sound was sarcastic. “You’re not a mere anything, Father. How could I ever call you mere?” His fingers caressed the side of Jungkook’s neck. “That would be a terrible sin.” Hoseok whispered, his breath brushing against Jungkook’s nape.
“Sin?" Jungkook laughed, a sound of mockery. "What do you know of sin?" Jungkook stood up, making Hoseok's hand fall. "You're a demon! An abomination !" He snarled.
Hoseok leaned in, eyes trained on Jungkook. "Tell me, Father— who knows more of sin? Who dwells within it? Who was born from it? Me . But you-" The words grew so low, so dark and seductive that they seemed to smoke. "You wallow in it every day. Falsify being free from it. Do you really think a man of God can resist the very thing he fears turning into?"
Jungkook recoiled as if electrified. He gritted his jaw so hard he could feel his teeth cracking against each other, his heart beating like a wild drum in his chest. "I am nothing like you," he snarled, though it rang perhaps more uncertainly off his lips than he was attempting to profess. "I have dedicated my entire life to Him. Every day I battle sin. Every day I battle you ."
Within Jungkook’s words was a slight quiver and a small crack appeared in the armor of his faith. Hoseok's words had sunk deeper than he wanted to admit, touching something deep within what he had tried burying beneath layers of devotion.
He clasped his hands into fists, focusing his gaze on the altar. "I'm not afraid of you."
"Afraid?" Hoseok’s lips curled at the corners into a cruel smirk, his head tilting in mock curiosity, amusement gleaming in the crimson eyes. "Father, I never said anything about being afraid." He moved closer, his presence prickling at Jungkook's skin with warmth. "In fact, I don't want you to fear me. Fear makes things... rather tedious. It takes the fun out of everything."
He raised an eyebrow and blew out a bored sigh. "And we wouldn't want that, would we? After all," he leaned in, voice now low, sultry, "this is our little game."
"Begone!" Jungkook's voice cut through the thick air like a blade, sharp and commanding. Gone were the days of cowering, of trembling in the demon's presence. He had had enough.
Hoseok laughed. A sneer, grating against Jungkook's ears. "Do you think it's that easy, Father?" His eyes darkened as he stroked Jungkook's cheeks– his touch shouldn't have been so affectionate, caressing him like a lover would.
"Who are you to command me?"
The whisper was low. Dangerous . Dripping with menace. "A priest. A messenger of God. Such a God who isn't protecting you from me. A God who lets a demon—an embodiment of sin —enter His holy grounds. Tell me Father, is this the God you wish to serve? Is this the holy being you wish to devote your life to?
"My faith will not be shaken by your villainous tricks," Jungkook said, his voice steady though his heart was racing. "God's will is not for me to question. I serve Him because I believe, not because He shields me from evil."
He took a deep breath, forcing himself to look into Hoseok's gleaming eyes. "You may stand here in His house, but you are nothing. You are a mere embodiment of sin."
“Sin?" Hoseok's lips twisted in laughter. "Who decides what sin is? The flesh craves, the mind yearns, and yet you lock yourself in a cage, shackled by rules written by men. Do you not wonder, Father, why your God would give you desires only to command you to suppress them?"
"Those desires are the root of man's downfall."
"Man's ruin or man's self? What if there is no difference? What if 'sin' is the natural expression of man?" Hoseok’s voice was low and silky smooth, wrapping around Jungkook like a binding spell. As he spoke, his fingers trailed lightly along Jungkook’s neck, the touch barely there but enough to send a shiver coursing through him.
"Is it not sinful to deny, to pretend that your desires do not exist?" Hoseok's words dripped with unholy temptation, his fingertips ghosting up to Jungkook's jaw, caressing his face with a touch so faint it felt like a brand against his skin.
Jungkook froze for a moment, his body betraying him before he jerked himself away, stepping back as if burned. "Stop it," he hissed, his voice trembling with defiance. Jungkook could hear his blood roaring in his ears in the silence. "I don't have to listen to you," his voice wobbled for a moment before he grew stronger. "You can come here and taunt me all you want. I won't play your paltry games," he said as he turned away. "I know what you are and what you want."
"Oh, but this isn't about what I want, Father. What I want is something that you want, too. Something that you have buried deep down ." Hoseok chuckled as Jungkook edged away from him, walking towards the doorway.
“Where are you off to, Father?" Hoseok called out, his voice dripping with sinister amusement. "You're not going anywhere. You can't run from what you are, nor from what I can offer. You can't outrun this storm, Father! You can't outrun me ."
Jungkook gasped sharply as Hoseok's words sank into his chest. He couldn't stay there when the siren-song whispers of that demon continued to echo through his mind. He had to get out; he had to find his haven.
"I don't have to listen to this," Jungkook said, determination hardening his voice as he kept walking towards the entrance. "I won't play along with your sick games."
“Sick games you say? Look around, Father,” Hoseok’s voice was smooth but carried an undercurrent of darkness that made Jungkook’s skin prickle. He was about to sigh in relief as his escape came nearer, but before he could even blink, the heavy church doors slammed shut with a loud boom, the sound echoing throughout the hollow space. Jungkook froze in place, staring at the doors, stunned. He tugged at the handle, but was unable to move it. Not even by an inch. It seemed as if the door had sealed itself with some sort of inhuman power. Panic started to build inside him.
“Temptation is all around us. You can't escape it.” Hoseok's deep, seductive laugh resonated against the rough stone of the church, echoing in Jungkook's brain, a creeping fear he could no longer resist. "Deep down we both know you will cave. It's just a matter of when and how," he whispered in Jungkook’s ear, his voice turning silky smooth again, like a caress Jungkook instinctively flinched away from.
Jungkook whirled around, his breaths short and swift. "You’re a liar," he hissed, backing up until he felt the cold, polished wood of the door against his spine. “I will never fall to your temptations.”
“Never is a long time, Father,” Hoseok murmured, a grin playing on his lips as he stepped closer. His eyes gleamed with something almost... delight, as if this battle of wills excited him. “You say it with such conviction, but your heart tells me a different story. Fear, doubt... they linger in your soul, don’t they?”
Jungkook swallowed, clenching his fists. "My faith is stronger than you realize. You can play your twisted games all you want, but I won't break." He pulled the door with all his might, but it didn't budge.
The storm outside had locked him inside with this nightmare.
"You say that now," Hoseok whispered against his ear, his breath warm against Jungkook's cold skin, the contrasting temperatures forming goosebumps across Jungkook’s sensitive skin. "But with every breath you take, you're a prisoner here and I... I move one step closer to what I want."
Shoving the demon back, Jungkook searched through his robes, hands shaking as they clawed their way down to his phone. Finally, he found it, clutching it like a lifeline as he moved further into the dim sanctuary, Hoseok watching him with a sardonic smile that seemed to burn through the shadows.
In the faint glow of the screen, he read the message that sent his heart sinking.
Jungkook-ah , it began, I'm sorry, but I won't be able to return tonight because of the storm. You'll have to watch over the church until the snow passes. Take care.
The words felt like a death sentence. Alone. In a dark church. With him .
A laugh rang out—sharp, mocking, too pleased. It echoed through the silent church, bouncing off stone walls, filling the empty space with a dark thrill, like a bell tolling to warn of an inevitable battle.
“Oh, Father,” Hoseok’s voice was smooth, dripping with delight. "It seems that fate is smiling on me tonight."
"You-" Jungkook turned round, patience snapping at last.
He slapped Hoseok.
For a moment, they stood frozen, poised over one another in a tableau, suspended in time. Hoseok's head turned slowly, the sinister glint in his eye gleaming more definite and more acute.
“Oh, now you’ve done it.” he whispered, as if to himself, his smile growing sharper and more wicked.
Jungkook didn’t wait for any further reaction.
He ran.
His footsteps echoed through the space as he ran down the aisle, heart pounding, not daring to look back. The shadows seemed to stretch, growing darker with every step he took, as if the very walls were conspiring to trap him. He could feel Hoseok’s presence close behind, moving without sound, like a predator savoring the chase.
There was only one goal in his mind—the room where the older priests lived, just one floor above. If only he could reach it.
Hoseok kept pace, shadowing his every step like a wraith. Jungkook could feel him, just out of reach, like a dark wind close enough to chill his skin. Hoseok didn’t need to touch him to let him know that he was there—watching, following, enjoying every desperate second. It was an evil game, the demon reveling in the hunt like a wolf playing with its victim.
Each desperate step towards the narrow staircase made Jungkook's heart thud against his chest, his breaths shallow as he threw himself onward. Stairs stretched out before him—a narrow ascent to whatever hope lay beyond. With a final, desperate burst of speed, he lunged up the steps, his hand grazing the cold stone wall to keep his balance. The room came into view—one last chance for an escape.
No other thoughts in his mind, Jungkook threw himself inside, slamming the heavy wooden door shut behind him. He pressed his back against it, breaths coming in sharp, ragged gasps as silence fell thick and unyielding around him.
It was silent for a breath. Then two.
Maybe the demon had stopped its chase.
But then—
“Did you really think a door would keep me out, Father?”
Jungkook’s blood turned to ice.
He turned slowly, dread churning in the pit of his stomach as he saw Hoseok standing in the shadows of the small room, his eyes gleaming with dark amusement.
The demon stepped forward, his movements languid, and calculated. Crimson eyes locked onto Jungkook, holding him captive without chains, the weight of that gaze enough to root him in place.
Upon reaching him, Hoseok struck like a serpent, pressing Jungkook back against the door with a force that knocked the breath from his lungs. His hands bracketed either side of Jungkook’s head, pinning him in place. The scent of sulfur and smoke curled around Jungkook as Hoseok leaned in, his face brushing dangerously close to his throat.
“You reek of fear, Father,” Hoseok murmured, his voice a low purr that sent shivers cascading down Jungkook’s spine. He inhaled deeply, his nose skimming along the column of Jungkook’s neck as if savoring the scent. “Delicious.”
Jungkook’s hands balled into fists at his sides, his body trembling as he fought against the paralyzing mix of terror and anger. “Get off me,” he ground out, his voice shaky but stubbornly defiant.
Hoseok only chuckled, dark amusement flickering in his crimson eyes. He brought his hands to Jungkook’s face, his touch uncomfortably tender as he tilted it upward. Before Jungkook could pull away, the demon’s lips brushed against the base of his throat, hot and deliberate.
“The sound of your heartbeat is exquisite, Father,” Hoseok murmured, his voice a sinful blend of silk and desire. One of his hands slipped downward, grazing over Jungkook’s chest. When his fingers ghosted over a nipple, Jungkook gasped sharply, his body betraying him with its response.
“Oh?” Hoseok’s smirk was audible, his lips curling against Jungkook’s skin. “Sensitive here, are we?” He swiped deliberately this time, slow and precise, his eyes never leaving Jungkook’s face.
Jungkook clenched his teeth, trying to push the sensation away, to remind himself of his vows, his purpose. But his body, unaccustomed to such intimacy after years of abstinence, betrayed him. He felt the heat coil low in his stomach, shame and fury rising to meet it.
“You’re wound so tightly, Father,” Hoseok said, his tone a mockery of sympathy. “When was the last time you let yourself feel? Or are you too afraid to admit that even you aren’t immune to temptation?” His face neared Jungkook’s, his lips barely touching the corner of the priest’s.
Jungkook could feel the moment the fight left his body, the tension in his muscles giving way to a wave of guilt that threatened to drown him. His fists, once clenched in defiance, slackened at his sides. The shame burned hotter than Hoseok’s touch, spreading through him like fire, igniting every corner of his soul. He had sworn to resist, to remain steadfast, and yet here he was, trembling beneath the demon’s hands.
“This is wrong,” he whispered, the words barely audible over the pounding of his heart. The weight of his failures pressed down on him, each vow he’d ever taken now feeling like a lie. “I’ve betrayed everything I stand for.”
Hoseok leaned closer, his breath warm against Jungkook’s ear. “Wrong?” he echoed, his voice soft, almost pitying. “Who decides what’s right and wrong, Father? You?” He tilted Jungkook’s face, forcing their eyes to meet. “Perhaps this was always meant to be. Perhaps resisting wasn’t part of the plan at all.”
Jungkook’s breathing hitched. The idea clawed at his mind, threatening to unravel everything he’d believed in. Had he been placed in this moment to fail? Was this another trial, one he had misunderstood from the start?
“No,” he said, though the word lacked its usual certainty. His voice wavered as the thought settled deeper, creeping into the cracks of his conviction. He felt a pang of something else—reluctant understanding, the bitter taste of inevitability.
“Think about it, Father,” Hoseok murmured, his tone soothing yet laced with manipulation. “Your faith brought you here. Every choice, every step—it’s all led to this. Maybe this is how it was meant to unfold. Maybe, just maybe, this is the path you were always meant to take.”
The guilt persisted, but alongside it was a sliver of unsettling clarity. Jungkook’s mind rebelled even as his heart faltered. Could it be that Hoseok’s words were the truth he had refused to see? That his purpose had never been to resist, but to confront the reality of his own humanity?
Jungkook’s knees buckled slightly, his back still pressed against the cold wooden door as he fought the warring emotions inside him. Guilt clung to him like a second skin, but the seed of doubt that Hoseok had planted was taking root, threatening to grow. He clenched his fists again, forcing his trembling hands to stay steady, trying to grasp onto his beliefs before they slipped away completely.
“I won’t… give in to you,” he said, his voice low, strained, but still holding a flicker of defiance. “No matter what you say, I refuse to believe this is God’s will.”
Hoseok tilted his head, his expression a mixture of amusement and something darker. “You’re still holding onto that, aren’t you? That fragile belief. You’re desperate to keep it intact, even when it’s cracking right before your eyes.” His thumb brushed against Jungkook’s cheek, his touch featherlight but suffocating. “But tell me, Father—do you really feel Him here now? Do you think your God is watching?”
Jungkook flinched as Hoseok’s words burrowed into his mind, twisting and coiling like serpents. He forced himself to meet the demon’s gaze, his own filled with anguish and anger. “Faith isn’t about feeling Him. It’s about trusting Him, even when everything else screams not to.” His voice grew stronger with each word, the fire in his heart rekindling, however faint. “You want me to believe I’m abandoned, that I’m alone. But I’m not. I refuse to give you that power.”
Hoseok’s smirk faltered, just for a moment, his crimson eyes narrowing. “You’re stronger than I gave you credit for,” he said, his tone a mix of annoyance and reluctant admiration. “But strength doesn’t mean invincibility, Father. It only makes breaking you all the more satisfying.”
Jungkook’s resistance shattered like glass under the weight of Hoseok’s smirk. The demon loomed closer, his crimson eyes glowing with triumphant glee. Jungkook’s breaths came fast, each one heavy with the guilt and thrill of his collapse. His trembling fingers clenched once more, but this time, it wasn’t in defiance—it was in surrender.
“You win,” Jungkook whispered, his voice broken, trembling. “Is that what you wanted to hear?”
Hoseok’s smile widened, fangs flashing in the dim light. “Words I never thought you’d say, Father. I knew you had it in you.” He stepped closer, his hands ghosting over Jungkook’s shoulders before sliding down his arms, savoring every inch of his conquest. “You’re mine now.”
But then something shifted. Jungkook’s gaze snapped to Hoseok’s, and for a moment, the guilt that had threatened to drown him twisted into something fierce, almost primal. He reached out, gripping the demon’s wrist tightly, and spun him around, pinning him to the door with a strength Hoseok hadn’t anticipated.
Hoseok gasped, crimson eyes widening with genuine surprise. “Oh?” he purred, his voice tinged with curiosity and delight. “It seems the Father has a darker side after all.”
Jungkook leaned in, his lips brushing against the shell of Hoseok’s ear as he growled, “You think you’ve won? Think again.”
The demon’s body tensed under Jungkook’s grip, but not with fear—no, it was excitement, a thrill coursing through him like wildfire. “How interesting,” Hoseok murmured, his voice breathy now, teasing. “You finally see the truth, don’t you? That this was inevitable.”
Jungkook’s hands tightened, one bracing against Hoseok’s wrist and the other trailing down to seize the demon’s waist. “I see one thing clearly,” he replied, his voice low, rough, “that you’re just as vulnerable as anyone else. You may be a demon, but right now, you’re at my mercy.”
Hoseok’s laugh was sharp and breathless, his head tilting back to rest against the door. “Mercy? Oh, Father, there’s nothing merciful about you anymore.” His lips curled into a grin, his breath hitching as Jungkook pressed closer. “You’re exactly what you’ve been running from.”
“I’m not running,” Jungkook said, his guilt still flickering like embers in his chest, but now they only fueled his movements. “Not anymore.”
As Hoseok shifted slightly under him, testing his hold, Jungkook leaned back just enough to meet the demon’s eyes. The dark amusement there was laced with something else now—curiosity, desire, maybe even respect. It was a challenge Hoseok had underestimated, and the knowledge sent a surge of power through Jungkook.
“Not so confident now, are we?” Jungkook whispered darkly, pressing the demon further, trailing his nose along the demon’s jawline.
“Not confident?” Hoseok’s voice was still smooth, but it carried an edge of breathiness, his words soft against the growing tension. “Oh, Father, you misunderstand.” He tilted his chin back down, his crimson eyes locking onto Jungkook’s, the glow in them dark and insatiable. “This? This is exactly what I wanted.”
Jungkook’s jaw clenched, irritation bubbling to the surface at Hoseok’s persistent defiance, the demon’s mocking grin only stoking the flames of his frustration. Without warning, he surged forward, gripping Hoseok by the chin and tilting his head to the side.
The sharp gasp that left Hoseok was drowned by the heat of Jungkook’s mouth, lips pressing against his throat. The action wasn’t gentle; it was raw, unrestrained, and possessive. His teeth grazed the demon’s skin before he latched on, sucking hard enough to leave a mark—a dark bruise blossoming on pale skin.
Hoseok hissed, his nails dragging lightly against Jungkook’s shoulders as his composure faltered. Jungkook pulled back just enough to meet Hoseok’s gaze, his breath fanning against the still-warm mark on the demon’s throat. “Keep pushing, and I’ll make sure you remember who’s in control tonight.”
For once, Hoseok didn’t have a quick retort. His lips parted, a shiver running through him as his glowing eyes flickered, somewhere between surprise and exhilaration. His smirk returned though, albeit slightly breathless, as he tilted his head back, exposing more of his neck. “Is that the best you’ve got, Father?” he taunted, his voice laced with mockery and a challenge. “I expected a little more bite from someone so… riled up.”
Jungkook’s patience snapped, the last thread of his restraint fraying. His hand shot up, wrapping firmly around Hoseok’s throat, fingers pressing just enough to make the demon’s breath hitch. Hoseok’s glowing eyes widened for a split second before dark amusement settled in them, his lips curling into a wicked grin.
“You’re full of surprises tonight,” Hoseok rasped, his voice strained but dripping with delight. “Didn’t think you had it in you.”
Jungkook leaned in, his lips ghosting against Hoseok’s ear as he tightened his grip slightly, eliciting a strangled sound from the demon. “You don’t get to speak unless I allow it,” he growled, his tone harsh and commanding.
Hoseok’s body arched against the door, his hands instinctively gripping Jungkook’s forearm. But he didn’t push him away—instead, he leaned into the pressure, his grin turning feral. “Oh, Father, this is exactly what I wanted from you.”
Jungkook ignored the taunt, focusing instead on the way Hoseok’s breath quickened under his touch, the way his defiance seemed to waver ever so slightly. “You wanted control?” Jungkook hissed, his thumb brushing against the hollow of Hoseok’s throat. “Let me show you what control really looks like.”
Jungkook’s muscles tensed as his anger took over, that simmering defiance finding its release. Before Hoseok could say another word, Jungkook grabbed his shoulder and shoved him back, sending the demon stumbling onto the old, worn bed in the corner of the room. The sound of Hoseok’s body hitting the mattress was sharp, like a challenge, an invitation , and a dare .
The demon propped himself up on his elbows, his crimson eyes gleaming in the dim light, his smirk wide and wicked. “Oh, you’re feisty tonight, aren’t you, Father?” he teased, watching as Jungkook stood over him, breathing hard.
Jungkook’s heart thundered in his chest, half from the rush of dominance, half from the sudden wave of guilt that crashed over him. His hands clenched into fists at his sides as he looked down at Hoseok sprawled on the bed—his body perfectly unbothered by the way he had just been manhandled.
What was he doing? This is holy ground... The thought clawed at the edges of his mind. His fingers trembled as he ran a hand through his hair, torn between shame and fury.
Hoseok, as if sensing the hesitation, smirked again, pressing his body further into the bed as if daring Jungkook to crumble. “What’s the matter, Father? Feeling a little guilty now?” His voice was low, silk over steel, taunting and malicious. “You came here to fight, didn’t you? But I can see it in your eyes—you didn’t think you’d have to go this far.”
The words sent a jolt of heat through Jungkook’s chest, igniting the feral part of him again. His hands clenched tighter, and the guilt that had lingered vanished beneath the wave of adrenaline, fury, and instinct.
Fine.
He advanced toward the bed again, his voice rough and low as he pressed himself back into that primal state. “Don’t test me, Hoseok.” His voice was a growl as he pressed his hand onto the demon’s shoulder, forcing him deeper into the mattress. His anger and frustration tore away the hesitation, allowing his rage to take over once more.
“You think you can taunt me, press me, push me?” he hissed, eyes narrowed as he leaned over Hoseok. “I’ll show you how far I can push back.”
Hoseok laughed—a deep, sinister sound that rattled in his chest as if daring Jungkook to lose himself entirely.
“Oh, I love when you get all angry, Father,” Hoseok teased, looking up at Jungkook with a wicked, devilish grin. “I can feel it—your power, your struggle. Let it out.”
Jungkook’s body tensed again, his face mere inches from the demon’s, their breaths heavy, the air between them electric. His hand pressed harder against Hoseok’s shoulder, drawing another hiss from the demon. The conflict surged within Jungkook for a heartbeat—guilt, fear, and anger clashing—before he surrendered entirely to the feral power within him.
“Stay down,” he growled, his voice full of menace.
“And if I don’t?” Hoseok retorted smoothly, his voice a blend of taunting confidence and dark amusement. Before Jungkook could respond, Hoseok surged upward, his face closing the distance between them so fast that Jungkook barely had time to react.
Hoseok’s face was mere inches from his own—so close that Jungkook could count the number of dark lashes framing those glowing eyes, each one glinting faintly in the dim light. His breath was hot against Jungkook’s skin, sending an involuntary shiver down his spine. There was an edge of challenge in those predatory, gleaming eyes, a silent dare, an unspoken promise that the demon could and would keep pushing him until the very end.
Before Jungkook could let his anger reign or step back, he moved instinctively, driven by raw, untamed power. His hands found Hoseok’s waist, grabbing him tightly, pulling him up with a swift, powerful motion. Hoseok let out a sharp sound of surprise as his body was lifted off the bed and spun, his balance momentarily unsteady as Jungkook dragged him, almost effortlessly, placing him on his hands and knees.
Jungkook’s muscles strained with the effort, his breath coming fast as his grip tightened on Hoseok’s waist, pulling him into submission. His eyes locked onto the demon’s, watching as the momentary surprise flickered there— raw, unfiltered —and then twisted into a wicked grin. But Jungkook didn't let any word slip from the fiend’s mouth. The first crack of his hand hit Hoseok, drawing a surprised gasp from him. Jungkook waited a bit, surprised himself.
Did he just spank-?
A peal of laughter burst out of the demon, startling Jungkook. “Oh Father,” the demon laughed. “You’re spanking me?” he looked back, crimson eyes nearly closed from how hard he was grinning. Hoseok wiggled his ass, trying to tempt the man looming over him.
And tempted he was.
Just not in the way the demon wanted.
Jungkook's fingers wound through the demon's dark brown hair, almost lovingly caressing them, before yanking it tight, making the demon hiss. Another hand slipped through the black suit he was wearing.
There was nothing underneath.
Jungkook smirked. His hand caressed his waist, moving up, up towards his nipples. Swiping through them almost carelessly, making the demon almost writhe underneath him. “How does it feel when it's being done to you?” he asked sardonically, not stopping his ministrations.
“Fuck you,” Hoseok hissed, his voice a mix of venom and laughter, though the slight tremor betrayed the effect Jungkook was having on him.
Jungkook’s lips curled into a wicked grin, tilting his head as he leaned closer. “Oh?” he mused, mock surprise coloring his words. His fingers circled the sensitive flesh with just enough pressure to draw another involuntary reaction from the demon. “Is the great demon breaking?”
“In your dreams!” the said demon snarled back, but making no move to break free from the priest’s grip. Jungkook chuckled under his breath. The rush of power was heady. Here was a demon , laying beneath him— at his mercy.
Jungkook’s hands moved to the black suit pants that the demon was wearing, pulling them off in one swift motion. He smirked as he discarded Hoseok’s pants, the sharp sound of fabric hitting the stone floor cutting through the thick silence. He leaned back slightly, his eyes roaming over the demon’s now partially exposed form, as if appraising his work. “Not so untouchable now, are we?” he murmured, his voice low, the words more for himself than the demon.
Hoseok’s crimson eyes burned with a mix of defiance and something darker, something that sent a thrill coursing through Jungkook’s veins. “Careful, Father,” Hoseok said, his voice smooth but edged with warning. “You’re playing a dangerous game.”
Jungkook let out a dry laugh, his hand moving to press against Hoseok’s back, pinning him down again with ease. “You think I’m scared?” he said, leaning in until their faces were just a breath apart. “You came here to tempt me, but look where you are now.”
Hoseok’s lips curved into a wicked smile, sharp enough to cut. “And look at what you’ve become, Father,” he countered, his voice a sultry taunt. “Breaking your precious vows, losing yourself in the thrill of domination. Is this the holy man you wanted to be?”
For a split second, guilt flickered in Jungkook’s mind, the weight of Hoseok’s words pressing against him like a vice. But then the demon arched beneath him, taunting him further, daring him to falter. Jungkook’s resolve hardened, a fire sparking in his eyes.
“Shut up,” he growled, his voice rough as his hands tightened their hold, earning a hiss from the demon beneath him. “If I’ve broken anything, it’s because of you.”
“Is that what you tell yourself?” Hoseok’s laughter was low, provocative, as if even now, pinned and exposed, he held the upper hand in their battle of wills. “Tell me, Father—do you enjoy this? Does it excite you to see me like this?”
Jungkook didn’t answer. Instead, he leaned down, pressing his lips to the demon’s throat again, sucking harshly at the pale skin as if marking him was the only response he needed. Hoseok’s breath hitched, his composure slipping for the briefest of moments, and Jungkook felt the triumph like a rush of adrenaline.
“Enjoy it?” Jungkook whispered against Hoseok’s ear, his voice dark, dangerous. “You have no idea.” He swiped a hand through the plush ass that was being presented to him on a silver platter. Hoseok let out a strangled sound, half a gasp, half a growl, his body instinctively arching into Jungkook’s touch. With a sardonic smirk, Jungkook pushes in one finger- dry.
“Your hole is sucking me in, demon,” Jungkook drawled, a wicked laugh slipping past his lips as his fingers curled inside Hoseok, coaxing out the soft, stifled whimpers the demon couldn’t quite suppress. “Don’t hold back now,” he murmured darkly, leaning closer so his words brushed against Hoseok’s ear, like a command and a taunt all at once.
His thrusts were deliberate, slow, and calculated, matching the cadence of his voice. “I want to hear you,” Jungkook growled, each word punctuated by the deep, steady push of his fingers. The small, broken sounds Hoseok made sent a rush of adrenaline coursing through him.
“There it is,” Jungkook murmured, satisfaction dripping from his tone as Hoseok’s composure began to falter. “Even the great demon can’t resist, can he?” He smirked, his movements deliberate as he left Hoseok sprawled on the bed, the demon's breathing uneven. Hoseok turned his head slightly, crimson eyes narrowing with both defiance and curiosity as the young priest got off the bed to rummage through the bedside table.
”What’s this? Compassion?” Hoseok’s voice, though strained, still carried his trademark mocking lilt. 'I didn’t take you for someone so—'
“Quiet,” Jungkook snapped without looking back, his tone brooking no argument. His hand finally closed around a small jar of vaseline—something innocuous left behind by the older priests. It wasn’t ideal, but it would suffice.
Turning back to the bed, Jungkook let his gaze sweep over Hoseok. The demon, for all his earlier bravado, was now tense, his body coiled as if uncertain whether to continue taunting or surrender fully to the human's dominance.
“You act as if I don’t know what you’re doing,” Jungkook said softly, almost conversationally, as he climbed back onto the bed. He put some vaseline into his hand, warming it between his palms, his dark eyes locked onto Hoseok’s. “All this rebellion, all this fire—it’s just a mask, isn’t it?”
'”You think you understand me?” Hoseok hissed, his voice wavering as Jungkook’s slick hand returned to his body, the warmth of the oil making him shudder. “You’re just a—”
“A virgin?” Jungkook interrupted, his lips curling into a sardonic smile. “Yes. But even a virgin can learn how to make a demon beg.” His hand moved with newfound confidence, sliding and pressing inside Hoseok in a way that made the demon’s sharp retort die in his throat, replaced by a guttural sound that betrayed him entirely. Jungkook leaned closer, his breath ghosting over Hoseok’s ear as he whispered, “Now, let’s see who really holds the power here."
And that’s how it continued. Jungkook’s fingers—first one, then two, then three—moved in perfect rhythm inside the demon, each thrust deliberate and precise. Hoseok, the mighty tormentor, was reduced to a trembling mess, his body writhing beneath Jungkook’s control.
Every time his fingers brushed against the demon’s prostate, Hoseok’s moans grew louder, his resolve crumbling further. His claws gripped the sheets beneath him, shredding the fabric in frustration, pleasure, and a hint of submission he couldn’t suppress.
“Stay still,” Jungkook growled, his voice firm, pressing a hand between Hoseok’s shoulder blades to hold him in place as he continued his relentless ministrations. The strength in his touch was tempered by care, and yet it left no room for rebellion
Hoseok’s breath hitched, his once-defiant sneers now replaced with helpless, drawn-out gasps. “Damn you,” he managed to choke out, but the venom in his voice had long dissipated, leaving behind something raw and needy.
Jungkook smirked, watching the demon fall apart beneath him. “What’s the matter, Hoseok?” he teased, his tone laced with mockery. “Isn’t this what you wanted? To see me give in? Funny how it looks like you’re the one surrendering.”
Hoseok let out a frustrated growl, his body arching despite himself, claws digging into the shredded sheets beneath him. “Do you think you can take my fist?” Jungkook wondered aloud, his tone casual yet edged with dark curiosity.
Hoseok froze at the words, a flicker of something—shock, anticipation—passing through his crimson eyes. Jungkook didn’t miss it.
“You like that thought?” Jungkook pressed, his voice lowering as he worked his fourth finger in with deliberate care. The stretch was unforgiving, even for a demon, and yet Hoseok’s body responded, loosening to stretch even more.
“Y-you’re insane,” Hoseok stammered, his voice rough, but his body betrayed him, pushing back against Jungkook’s hand as though defying his own protests.
Jungkook smirked, leaning closer to murmur against Hoseok’s ear, “I think you’re the one who’s insane—for wanting this as much as you do.”
With unrelenting pressure, Jungkook added his thumb, his hand forming a perfect shape as he eased further inside. He paused, watching Hoseok’s reactions closely, his other hand stroking soothingly along the demon’s spine as if to both ground and torment him.
“Breathe,” Jungkook commanded, his voice firm but calm, a stark contrast to the trembling, writhing mess beneath him.
Hoseok exhaled shakily, his body relaxing fractionally around the intrusion. When Jungkook finally pushed past the last barrier, his entire hand enveloped within, Hoseok’s back arched off the bed, a guttural moan ripping from his throat.
“Good,” Jungkook praised, his fingers flexing gently inside, feeling every contraction, every surrendering twitch of the demon’s body. The power in the moment was intoxicating. “Look at you, Hoseok. Taking it so well.”
Hoseok could only gasp in response, his composure completely shattered. The priest began to move his hand, slow and deliberate, each motion drawing out moans from Hoseok that increased in volume with each thrust. Hoseok’s crimson eyes flickered. All he could do was let out broken sounds as Jungkook continued.
Jungkook’s movements were deliberate, slow, and devastating, drawing out sounds from Hoseok that were wholly unrestrained, his usual defiance nowhere to be found. It was intoxicating, watching the great demon unravel beneath him.
But then Hoseok’s hand moved, trembling fingers guiding Jungkook’s free hand up to his throat. The demon’s crimson eyes met his, blazing with something raw and wordless.
“You’re asking for this?” Jungkook murmured, dark amusement lacing his voice as he tightened his fingers around Hoseok’s throat, just enough to make him gasp. The sight of the demon’s parted lips and the way his body arched beneath him sent a shiver of heady control through the priest.
Hoseok nodded faintly, his gaze unwavering despite the flush creeping across his cheeks.
“You’re something else,” Jungkook muttered, his hand pressing firmer against Hoseok’s throat while his other resumed its slow, devastating rhythm. The contrast—the roughness of his grip and the precision of his thrusts—drew a choked cry from Hoseok that made Jungkook’s breath hitch.
Hoseok’s body writhed, caught between the overwhelming sensations. His sharp claws clawed at the sheets as his orgasm built, a relentless pressure winding tighter and tighter within him.
“So close, aren’t you?” Jungkook whispered, leaning closer, his breath hot against Hoseok’s ear. “You can’t hide it from me.”
Hoseok let out a desperate, garbled moan, his body trembling as he teetered on the edge. Just one more thrust, one more movement, and—
Jungkook stopped.
He pulled his hand away from Hoseok’s throat, his fingers stilling inside the demon, leaving him stranded on the precipice of release. Hoseok’s cry of frustration was guttural, his body jerking as though trying to chase the pleasure that was just out of reach.
“You didn’t think I’d let you have it so easily, did you?” Jungkook taunted, removing his hand when he was sure the demon was off the edge, his tone cold and calculated now, though the smirk on his lips betrayed his satisfaction.
Hoseok snarled, his crimson eyes flaring with fury, but the desperation in his trembling frame betrayed his need. “You’re cruel, Father.”
“And you like it,” Jungkook shot back, his smirk widening as he brushed a thumb teasingly over Hoseok’s swollen, twitching entrance. “I think you’ll learn that I’m in control now. You’ll come when I allow it, and not a second before.”
Jungkook stepped off the bed, leaving the demon sprawled beneath him, his body still trembling from the tension, the aftermath of their exchange hanging heavy in the air. As Jungkook moved away, Hoseok collapsed back into the sheets, his breath shallow and ragged, chest heaving as he tried to steady himself.
The priest’s movements were deliberate, slow , as he undressed, the sound of fabric brushing against his skin harsh in the silence that hung between them. Hoseok’s intense gaze never wavered, those crimson eyes tracking every motion, burning with a mixture of defiance and something deeper, darker . There was no escape in the way he watched, as if he couldn’t tear his eyes away, even as his body betrayed him.
Jungkook felt the weight of that gaze, each look from the fiend on the bed fueling something primal inside him. He was aware of the demon's every breath, the rise and fall of his chest, the faintest tremor in his hands as they lay at his sides. And as he finished undressing, he palmed himself, making the demon on the bed moan out loud.
Loudest he had in the entire night.
Jungkook smirked. "Still so desperate, even after everything," he murmured, his voice a low growl. The tension in the room thickening as he climbed on the bed again.
“I’d have you suck me off, like the pretty little demon you are,” Jungkook continued, his voice a whisper of command, “but I can’t wait any longer. I need to be inside you.”
Hoseok remained silent, his breath ragged, the only sound filling the room. The storm outside roared louder, its crescendo almost matching the tension between them.
“Turn around and face me,” Jungkook purred, his voice dripping with authority.
Hoseok’s lips curled into a taunting grin then. “What, Father? Missionary? Surely you’re more creative than that.”
With deliberate grace, he shifted beneath Jungkook, settling onto his back and spreading his legs just enough to expose himself fully. His cock stood hard, proud, and flushed, the deep shade of purple contrasting against his pale skin. The smooth, thick shaft twitched slightly, almost eager, as if it too knew the game being played. Precum dripped from the cockhead, white strands almost coating his thighs. Jungkook noted with mild curiosity that it was not barbed or did not have any such anomaly which was normally expected of a demon.
Jungkook’s smirk deepened. “I want to see your face as I wreck you,” he replied, his voice dark with promise— full of intent. The demon’s chest, now bare from the suit being undone, rose and fell with labored breaths, the heavy storm outside mirroring the growing storm between them.
Hoseok's gaze flickered to the priest, his crimson eyes locked onto Jungkook with a challenge that only heightened the tension. “Put it in!” He snapped, the apprehension getting the best of him.
Jungkook’s eyebrow arched slightly, a silent challenge flickering in his gaze. “You’ll regret that,” he muttered, his voice low and controlled, barely above a whisper. His gaze, intense and calculating, locked onto the demon’s as he guided his cock into the hole. The warmth engulfed him, making Jungkook pause to collect himself before he continued pressing himself inside until he bottomed out.
The air was thick with tension as Jungkook’s breath came in ragged gasps. He tried to ground himself, his fingers digging into Hoseok’s waist as if to steady himself. He pulled away for a moment, trying to collect his thoughts, but the warmth of the demon’s body beneath him, the rush of emotions swirling between them, made it impossible to think clearly.
Hoseok was a sight to behold—his body trembling, his breaths shallow and uneven as his crimson eyes burned with a mixture of defiance and something else. His cockhead ran nearly purple, hard and sensitive. The demon’s chest rose and fell rapidly, his fingers still twitching as they left angry, red marks on Jungkook’s back. Even in this state, Hoseok’s presence was intoxicating.
Jungkook leaned down again, pressing his forehead against Hoseok’s, his fingers tracing the demon’s jawline as if he were memorizing the feeling of it beneath his touch. He looked down at Hoseok, the way his chest heaved with each breath, the way the storm outside still howled in the distance. The intensity of everything—the demon, the storm, the weight of his tangled emotions—was almost too much to process.
“I’m not done with you,” Jungkook finally said, his tone low and commanding. He had crossed so many lines already, had given into so many urges. But at that moment, he realized he didn’t want to stop. Not yet.
Hoseok’s eyes flickered, a mix of defiance and something else that Jungkook couldn’t place, but he could see it—the edge of surrender.
"Then do it," Hoseok whispered, his voice hoarse, desperate.
The storm outside raged louder, as if echoing their intensity, but inside the room, everything fell silent except for the heavy, shared breaths of two beings bound by something neither of them could fully control.
Hoseok’s grin deepened despite the tremors that ran through him, his eyes sparkling with mischief and defiance. “I can see it now, Father ,” he whispered, his voice low and taunting. “You’re just like the rest of them—ready to break when it’s too much. Tell me, does it feel good to give in? To feel this— me —under you?”
His hips rocked subtly against Jungkook’s, his body pressing up, almost mocking, his gaze never leaving Jungkook’s. The movement was slow, calculated, as if he knew exactly how to push Jungkook to the edge. “You think you can control this, but I can already see it in your eyes,” Hoseok murmured, his voice a breathy chuckle. “You’re not as in charge as you think.”
Jungkook’s hands clenched into fists, the pressure building in his chest. Hoseok’s words were like daggers, his body twisting beneath him with purpose, daring him to lose control. Every inch of him was taunting, testing, pushing Jungkook closer to the edge of something he was desperately trying to hold back.
Finally, Jungkook snapped. He pulled back and thrust forward in one violent motion, the force making Hoseok’s body slide up the bed. Jungkook’s grip tightened, dragging him back down with bruising force. His breath came out in a sharp hiss as he leaned down, his lips brushing against Hoseok’s ear.
“Shut the fuck up,” he growled, his voice dark and threatening. “I control this, understand?”
Hoseok only laughed, the sound thick with mockery. “Keep telling yourself that, priest. But deep down, you know—you're not as strong as you pretend.”
Jungkook’s teeth ground together, a low growl escaping him. His hands clenched into fists at his sides, every inch of him burning with the need to shut Hoseok up, to make him feel who was in charge.
With a guttural sound of frustration, Jungkook pulled away from Hoseok’s taunting grin, his hands trembling with rage. The storm outside seemed to echo his fury, howling as he turned, pacing toward the corner of the room. His robes—his sacred robes, the very things that kept him tethered to his faith—felt like a shackle in that moment.
He grabbed the fabric, his hands shaking with barely controlled anger, and in one swift motion, tore it apart. The sound of the cloth ripping felt almost satisfying, the fabric giving way under his strength. He pulled off large strips, his eyes never leaving Hoseok’s defiant gaze.
Hoseok’s eyes gleamed with amusement as he watched, a wicked smirk playing at the corners of his lips. “That’s it, Father. Let it out. Let yourself go.”
Jungkook didn’t respond. He moved quickly, tearing the fabric into long strips and walking back toward Hoseok with a deadly purpose in his eyes.
Without a word, he was on Hoseok, his hands gripping the demon’s wrists and binding them to the bedposts with rough efficiency. Hoseok’s mocking tone faltered as he realized what was happening, but he quickly recovered.
“You think this is going to—”
Jungkook moved without hesitation, his hand silencing Hoseok’s words as he grabbed another strip of cloth, this one longer and thicker. Before Hoseok could protest, he shoved it into his mouth, and binding it with another strip that went around his head, muffling the demon’s voice and cutting off the taunt that had been on the tip of his tongue.
Jungkook stepped back, his breath coming in harsh, controlled bursts. “Now,” he said, his voice dark and commanding, “you’re going to learn what it means to be silent .”
Hoseok’s eyes widened in surprise, but Jungkook wasn’t finished. He reached for another piece of fabric, this one darker in color—perfect for what he had in mind. Hoseok didn’t get the chance to say another word before Jungkook was tying the blindfold over his eyes, pulling it tight.
Hoseok’s breath hitched, his head jerking slightly as the world around him went black. The sudden loss of vision made him vulnerable in a way he hadn’t anticipated.
Jungkook stood over him, the power shift undeniable now. “You wanted control?” he growled, his voice thick. “Now you’ll see what it feels like to lose it completely.”
The storm outside seemed to fade into the background, their shared breaths the only sound filling the room. Hoseok was bound, gagged, and blindfolded—completely at Jungkook’s mercy. Jungkook stood over him, his chest rising and falling with rapid breaths, his gaze never leaving Hoseok’s prone form.
The demon, helpless in his current state, looked almost... beautiful. Jungkook’s eyes traced the curve of Hoseok’s body, the way his chest rose and fell with each strained breath, his arms pulled tight against the ropes. The vulnerability was unexpected, and for a moment, Jungkook just admired it, the way Hoseok’s defiance had been silenced, stripped away, leaving only a body that seemed to beg for more.
But that wasn’t enough. Not yet.
Jungkook’s hands clenched at his sides before he moved. His eyes shifted toward the bedside table where the quiet glow of the candle flickered. His gaze landed on the rosary beads, medium-sized, their smooth, worn surface catching the light. His fingers brushed over the beads, the weight of them feeling almost like a promise. The steel rod they used to support incense sticks gleamed faintly beneath the candlelight.
He took both items, his hands steady as he walked back to the bed. The beads felt cool in his palm, smooth and solid, and the steel rod in his other hand seemed almost too perfect for what he had in mind.
Jungkook returned to Hoseok, his eyes dark, lips set in a tight line. He stood over the bound figure of the demon, looking down at him with a calm that contrasted with the storm raging inside him. With deliberate slowness, he placed the rosary beads on the bed beside Hoseok, their soft clink sounding too loud in the thick air. Jungkook watched his eyes—the blindfold doing nothing to dull the way the demon’s lashes fluttered in response to the noise, his muscles tense beneath the ropes. Hoseok was waiting, listening, as though he could feel the shift in the air, the momentary stillness before the storm.
The sound of the steel rod being handled—its sharp, metallic clink against Jungkook’s rings—was next. Hoseok’s breath hitched, just enough for Jungkook to notice. The tension in his shoulders tightened, his fingers flexing slightly, as if he was trying to make sense of what was happening, what was coming. Every shift, every movement Jungkook made, seemed to electrify the room, sparking a current of fear and anticipation in the demon.
Jungkook could see it in the way Hoseok’s body trembled just slightly, the pulse of his neck visibly jumping. The gag muffled whatever words or protests might have tried to break free, but Hoseok didn’t need to speak to show how much he was feeling. The way his breath quickened was enough—a mixture of confusion and anticipation
A soft exhale escaped Hoseok as the rod shifted in his hands, and Jungkook could practically taste the challenge in the air—the dare in Hoseok’s silence, the way he seemed to almost revel in being restrained, in the unknown.
“Now I’m going to teach you a lesson,” Jungkook murmured, his voice smooth and almost detached, as if the words were as ordinary as talking about the weather. But the dark undercurrent in his tone sent a shiver down Hoseok’s spine.
“We’re going to see how many times you can cum,” Jungkook continued, a dangerous gleam in his eyes, his voice now almost playful, as though the very idea amused him. Hoseok’s body went rigid, a sharp breath catching in his chest, his pulse visibly quickening as he turned his head toward Jungkook.
The air between them thickened with tension, the storm outside a distant hum compared to the thundering beat of Hoseok’s heart. His body trembled beneath the ropes, the gag stifling the words that threatened to spill from his lips. Jungkook smirked, watching the way Hoseok’s body betrayed his pride. The way he wanted to fight back but couldn’t.
It was beautiful.
Jungkook climbed back onto the bed, positioning himself between Hoseok’s spread legs with deliberate slowness, his every movement calculated. The weight of his body above Hoseok was heavy— a suffocating presence that filled the space between them.
He let his hands brush over Hoseok’s thighs, feeling the tension there, the way his skin tightened under his touch. With a final, almost tender touch, he ran his fingers up the inside of Hoseok’s thighs, just enough to tease, just enough to make Hoseok wait. Jungkook’s fingers brushed the rosary beads again, the smooth, cold surface catching the candlelight. He smirked, the weight of the beads in his hand almost comforting, their polished texture too perfect for what he had planned.
Hoseok shifted beneath him, his breath uneven as he fought against the restraints, the gag still muffling any protest or plea that might have come. The beads in Jungkook’s hand were silent, but the purpose of them was clear. He ran the string through his fingers slowly, almost deliberately, savoring the anticipation building in the air.
“You’re going to learn your lesson now,” Jungkook whispered, his voice thick with intent, as he shifted between Hoseok’s legs. He reached down, teasing at Hoseok’s entrance with the rosary beads. Hoseok’s body tensed as the cold beads touched his rim, his muscles straining against the ropes as he shifted, desperate for anything that would bring him release, but still bound by Jungkook’s control.
With careful, precise movements, Jungkook pressed the first bead inside, watching Hoseok’s body react—tensing, then relaxing, the slow burn of the intrusion sending a shudder through his form. Jungkook’s gaze never left Hoseok’s face, studying every tremble, every hint of discomfort and desire that crossed his features.
He moved the beads slowly, inching them inside one by one, the rhythm agonizingly slow, watching Hoseok’s breath hitch and falter with each new bead that disappeared inside him. Each motion was calculated. Jungkook’s chest tightened with the power he held, and yet, there was something almost tender in the way he manipulated Hoseok’s body—an intricate dance of control and submission.
“You’re going to cum for me when I pull these out,” Jungkook growled softly, his voice low and commanding as he added the last bead. Hoseok’s body shuddered beneath him, the tension unbearable as Jungkook remained still for a moment, savoring the sight of the beads inside him.
“Cum,” Jungkook crooned, his voice smooth and commanding as he yanked the rosary beads from Hoseok’s body all at once. Jungkook watched, breathless, as the last bead was pulled free, the sudden motion pulling an involuntary gasp from Hoseok. The demon’s body arched violently, and for a split second, Jungkook couldn’t look away from the perfect display of restraint and surrender. Then, with a low growl of satisfaction, he saw it—the way Hoseok’s body jerked, his release surging out in thick, hot streams that painted his chest in stark, white streaks.
The sudden motion sent a shock through Hoseok’s body, his muscles locking in a brutal, trembling tension as the beads were drawn fast, every inch of them pulled from him with a force that left him breathless. His back arched off the bed in a sharp, almost unnatural curve, his entire body seizing as the orgasm exploded within him. It was fast—too fast, too intense—his hips bucking violently, desperately chasing the release, every nerve on fire as the pleasure struck him in waves.
He gasped, a strangled cry caught in his throat, as his body trembled uncontrollably. His muscles twitched, spasming with the force of the climax. His hands clenched into fists, bound tight against the ropes, as his body convulsed in the aftermath, still trembling. Despite the gag in his mouth, Hoseok tried to suck in air, his chest heaving as he struggled to recover, but Jungkook wasn’t finished. He watched with dark satisfaction as Hoseok’s breathing hitched, the sound of desperation thick in the air.
“No respite,” Jungkook murmured, his tone a low growl as he leaned closer, his eyes never leaving Hoseok’s vulnerable form. “You’re not done yet,” he said as he started lubing up the steel rod with the vaseline by his side.
Jungkook took hold of Hoseok’s cock for the first time, his grip firm, and the effect was instantaneous. Hoseok hissed, the sound muffled by the gag in his mouth, his body stretching taut as every muscle clenched, trying to resist the overwhelming sensation. His breath came in ragged, shallow gasps, but he didn’t dare move, even as his body trembled under the touch.
“Aww, poor little demon,” Jungkook mocked, his tone syrupy sweet, as if speaking to a child. “Can’t even handle a little bit of overstimulation, can you?” He let the words hang in the air, heavy with cruel amusement, before he took the thin steel rod and pressed it to the head of Hoseok’s urethra.
Hoseok’s entire body went rigid as the cold steel of the rod made contact, and Jungkook wasted no time, slowly beginning to insert it, watching Hoseok’s every reaction closely. The demon’s body twitched, a shudder running through him as he fought to suppress the instinct to move, his muffled moans growing louder, each one a clear sign of the torment he could no longer hide. His hips remained still, trembling, but refusing to obey the instinct to push forward or escape.
Jungkook could feel the moment it was fully inside, the demon’s body giving an involuntary cry that echoed through the room. He smirked darkly, his voice taunting as he spoke, “Oh, seems like demons have a prostate too.” He twisted the rod slowly, pressing it deeper into the same spot, making sure to provoke that same tremor in Hoseok’s body.
“Let’s see if we can hit it from here,” Jungkook murmured, his fingers moving to the demon’s entrance and pushing three inside with deliberate slowness. His blunt nails scraped the walls inside, just enough to leave a faint trace, and Hoseok kicked his legs out in response, his body desperately trying to get away from the pressure and sensation.
Jungkook’s eyes darkened, a low warning in his voice as he watched Hoseok struggle. “Don’t make me bind them too,” he warned, the implication clear as his fingers continued to press deeper, searching for that sensitive spot that would push the demon beyond his control. He found it with calculated precision, a sharp press making Hoseok twitch violently, a strangled, keening cry bubbling up from his throat.
Jungkook’s gaze flickered to Hoseok’s face, his eyes narrowing as he noticed the wetness staining the blindfold—clear evidence of Hoseok’s involuntary reactions. It only made Jungkook’s smirk widen, the sight of the demon’s desperation fanning the flames of his desire. He didn’t let up, each movement deliberate—sounding him, then pressing his fingers deeper, then both at once—each action driving Hoseok further into a trembling, whimpering wreck beneath him. The sounds Hoseok made—strangled, desperate—were music to Jungkook’s ears, but it wasn’t enough.
It was then that Jungkook became aware of the demon’s attempts to speak, his muffled sounds slipping past the gag. Jungkook leaned in, his voice low and mocking. “Is the little demon trying to say something?” His question was rhetorical, but Hoseok nodded his head, the slightest movement, an indication of his desperation.
Curiosity twisted in Jungkook’s chest as he pulled out his fingers, followed by the rod. He wasted no time removing Hoseok’s blindfold and gag, allowing the demon to finally speak.
“ Please .”
The single word sent a wave of dark satisfaction through Jungkook’s chest, spreading like fire through his veins.
“Please, what?” Jungkook crooned, his hand gently cupping the demon’s face, as though savoring the moment. He looked absolutely ethereal with his crimson eyes rimmed with tears, cheeks flushed and blotched with color from the heat of his shame of submitting to a human.
“ Please fuck me. ”
The words were like sweet music to Jungkook’s ears. A dark smile spread across his face, his expression filled with twisted satisfaction.
“See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?” He taunted, his voice laced with sarcasm. Kneeling between Hoseok’s legs, he leaned down slightly, one hand braced beside Hoseok’s head for support as he guided his cock into the demon’s wet, inviting heat with the other.
The demon arched off the bed, his back bowing as his neck was exposed, vulnerable and inviting. Their chests brushed together as Jungkook bottomed out, a low groan escaping his lips at the way Hoseok clenched around him. He leaned down, pressing his mouth to the juncture of the demon’s neck and shoulder, his lips dragging over the heated skin before sinking his teeth in just enough to mark.
That was all it took for Jungkook’s restraint to shatter. With a growl, he pulled Hoseok’s legs over his shoulders, nearly folding him in half, and began driving into him with unrelenting force. The sounds spilling from Hoseok’s lips were a symphony—moans, whimpers, and broken cries as his head thrashed from side to side, overwhelmed by the relentless sensations coursing through his body.
Jungkook’s hand moved between them, wrapping firmly around Hoseok’s cock. His strokes were timed perfectly with his thrusts, each motion wringing another desperate sound from the demon as his body trembled beneath him.
“Gonna—gonna cum,” Hoseok sobbed, his voice broken, tears streaming freely from his crimson eyes, his body trembling with overstimulation.
“Cum for me,” Jungkook growled, his voice dark and commanding, his movements relentless. Hoseok’s body obeyed as if he were nothing more than Jungkook’s puppet, his release hitting him hard. He came with a strangled cry, painting both their chests in streaks of white as his body convulsed beneath the onslaught.
“Too—too much,” Hoseok gasped, his voice cracking as fresh sobs spilled from him, his body jerking involuntarily as Jungkook showed no signs of stopping. “Can’t—no more,” he choked out, his words desperate, pleading.
“You. Can,” Jungkook growled, each word punctuated by a sharp, punishing thrust. “And. You. Will.”
Hoseok was sobbing now, tears streaming down his flushed face as Jungkook’s relentless pace continued. His body quaked beneath the priest, overwhelmed and trembling, but Hoseok still had it in him to push back—his walls tightening deliberately around Jungkook’s cock.
Jungkook groaned, the sound low and guttural near Hoseok’s ear, his breath hot and heavy. “Such a tight, perfect hole,” he rasped, voice thick with lust. “All mine.”
That deliberate squeeze, sinful and taunting, was the final thread snapping Jungkook’s control. With a deep, drawn-out groan, his hips stilled, buried to the hilt as his release overtook him. He filled Hoseok completely, the sensation sending the demon into another shuddering cry, his body writhing with overstimulation.
Jungkook took a moment to catch his breath, chest heaving as he finally withdrew. Hoseok flinched, a full-body shiver wracking him from the hypersensitivity. Jungkook’s gaze flickered downward, and the sight made his cock twitch—thick globs of white spilling out, trailing slowly down the curve of the demon’s abused hole.
But the thrill of control that had coursed through him moments ago ebbed away, leaving something softer in its place. Jungkook reached for the frayed pieces of his robe that had been repurposed into makeshift restraints, undoing the knots with a care that felt foreign in the aftermath of such a tempestuous act.
Hoseok’s wrists were raw, faintly bruised from where the fabric had dug into his skin. For a moment, Jungkook hesitated. Then, almost instinctively, he took Hoseok’s hands in his own and began to rub gently, coaxing warmth and circulation back into the pale skin.
The demon let out a soft sound—not a moan, not a whimper, but something closer to a sigh of curiosity. Hoseok tilted his head, crimson eyes half-lidded and unreadable as he watched Jungkook’s gentle ministrations. “What are you doing?” Hoseok asked, his voice hoarse but tinged with genuine confusion.
“Taking care of you,” Jungkook murmured, his thumbs brushing over the bruises on Hoseok’s wrists. His touch was light, as if trying to undo the violence of what had transpired. He moved to Hoseok’s thighs next, massaging them softly.
Hoseok’s lips curled faintly, something between amusement and intrigue. “You’re strange, Father. You unleash all that... fire,” he said, voice dripping with mockery, “and now you’re playing nursemaid? How terribly human of you.”
Jungkook didn’t respond, his focus fixed on smoothing out the tension in Hoseok’s limbs. His hands were warm, calloused, a stark contrast to the demon’s flawless, inhuman perfection.
“You’re a demon,” Jungkook finally said, voice quiet but steady. “But I’m not. I don’t know what this makes me—what this means—but I can’t lose that.”
Hoseok’s eyes gleamed, his smirk deepening. “Ah, so you still cling to that fragile humanity of yours? How quaint.” He reached out, his hand brushing Jungkook’s cheek in a gesture that felt both mocking and tender. “Do you think that will save you?”
Jungkook met Hoseok’s gaze, unflinching. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “But it’s all I have.”
Hoseok laughed softly, the sound low and dangerous. “You’re fascinating, Father,” he murmured, stretching out languidly on the bed like a predator toying with its prey. His crimson eyes sparkled with a knowing gleam as he propped himself up on his elbows, his movements slow and deliberate. “You know,” he began, his tone teasing yet razor-sharp, “for a man of the cloth, you were surprisingly... adept. Makes me wonder, though—was I your first?”
Jungkook stilled, his hands hovering over Hoseok’s wrist as he worked to massage away the marks. He didn’t answer immediately, but the way his jaw tightened spoke volumes.
The demon’s grin widened, feral and dripping with delight. “Oh, I see. Poor little priest, saving himself all these years, only to give it all away to me. Do you feel ashamed, Father? Humbled? Or maybe you enjoyed it so much you’ve forgotten how wrong it’s supposed to feel.”
“Shut up,” Jungkook muttered, his voice low but firm.
“Oh, come now,” Hoseok crooned, his tone syrupy sweet. “Surely you’ve thought about it before. All those lonely nights, all those prayers. Did you ever wonder what it would feel like? And now you know. Now you’re—”
“Enough,” Jungkook interrupted, his voice steady and laced with finality. He released Hoseok’s wrist and sat back on his heels, looking down at the demon sprawled before him. “There’s nothing wrong with being a virgin, just like there’s no shame in giving something up if it means staying true to yourself.”
Hoseok tilted his head, studying him with something that almost resembled intrigue. “Staying true to yourself,” he echoed, a soft chuckle following the words. “And yet, here we are. You gave in, Father. You let me ruin you.”
Jungkook’s eyes flickered with something unreadable, but he didn’t look away. “Maybe I did,” he admitted. “But I’m still here. I’m still human. And that’s something you’ll never take from me.”
Hoseok laughed then, a full-bodied sound that echoed through the room like a clap of thunder. “Oh, Jungkook,” he purred, sitting up fully now. His crimson eyes glowed faintly in the dim light, the sharp curve of his grin as dangerous as ever. “You think you’ve won something, don’t you? Holding on to your humanity like it’s some precious treasure.”
He leaned in close, his lips brushing against Jungkook’s ear as he whispered, “But you’re already mine. You’ll feel it, the itch under your skin, the ache that won’t go away. And when it gets too much—when you crave the fire again—I’ll be waiting.”
With that, Hoseok stood, his movements fluid and unhurried. He stretched, his body utterly unashamed, before turning to gather what remained of his discarded clothes.
“Will I see you again?” Jungkook asked, his voice quiet but steady, a strange mix of challenge and uncertainty.
Hoseok paused, glancing over his shoulder. His smirk returned, wicked and enigmatic. “Oh, Father,” he drawled, his voice dripping with satisfaction, “you already know the answer to that.”
Turning back, he sauntered toward Jungkook with deliberate, predatory grace. He leaned down, cupping Jungkook’s face in his hands—soft, almost tender, mirroring the earlier moment that now felt lifetimes away. His thumb brushed against Jungkook’s cheek, and he pressed a feather-light kiss to the corner of the priest’s lips, lingering just long enough to make the air between them feel heavier.
And then, with a snap of his fingers, he was gone.
The room fell eerily silent, the storm outside having faded into nothingness. Jungkook was alone now, surrounded by the remnants of his sin—the frayed robes on the floor, the bruises on his hands from where he’d gripped too tightly, and the faint, lingering heat that seemed to cling to the air.
He sank onto the bed, burying his face in his hands as the weight of everything he’d done bore down on him. The crucifix on the wall seemed to mock him, a silent reminder of the man he had been before tonight.
Jungkook didn’t pray for forgiveness.
He couldn’t.
He sat there instead, staring into the void, waiting for the dawn to come, knowing that when it did, nothing would ever be the same.
~x~
The End