(A/N: CURRENTLY UNDERGOING EDITING)
Min Yoongi is your average guy. He works as a music producer and he struggles to get by along with suffering from depression and mental illness.
Jung Hoseok is a demon sent from hell, and he has his eyes set on M...
- J. H. K - (A/N: A little PG-13 warning for the beginning here.)
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Her heart was beating wildly against her chest, a yearning so palpable and unbearable flowing through her, she couldn't control it. She shivered involuntarily under the cool, commanding touch from her collarbone to her neck. The mysterious man she had met one night at a nightclub had enticed her with his ever-illusive, closed-off attitude and glances her way. It wasn't long until the two couldn't keep away, and she couldn't refuse his approach to dance in the nightclub between the sweaty bodies and drunken air. She didn't care if she felt a spark or not with the stranger, but that he was undeniably gorgeous with midnight black hair and deep almond eyes, and she wanted him. He was quite the dancer, too, as he skillfully moved with his partner, his body adjusting to hers and touching her in ways that were subtle but left her wanting more.
A few flirty words, drinks, and dances later, she and the man were in a hotel heavily making out. She kicked off her heels once they stumbled through the doorway, dying to get out of her tight black dress that revealed her voluptuous figure and caused many to ogle at her. Skillfully, her fingers went to the buttons of the man's coat, which he threw off himself and unbuttoned his collared shirt. They quickly stumbled into the bed, adrenaline and lust consuming the air.
The woman fell against the bed, now only in her bra and panties. Her hair was splayed out over the hotel bed, her skin hot and flushed with anticipation. He hovered over her, the mysterious and handsome stranger. Her eyes were closed in ecstasy as she waited for his sweet assault of kisses to come to her neck and lips in a way that would leave her moaning. When they did not come, she opened her eyes to look at the man and spoke up, "Why did you stop?" She was breathless and impatient, sitting up with her elbows against the bed.
He smirked at her beneath him, the cupid's bow of his lip spreading ever so slightly. "Tell me, why so eager?"
She scoffed at him unbelievingly and said, "Are you kidding me?"
"Oh, I don't kid," he said, "At least not always."
"Why do you keep talking nonsense? Are you serious? Look, I thought you wanted sex." She ran her fingers through his hair in annoyance, pulling him closer and latching her lips to his neck to signal to him what she wanted.
She was suddenly pushed away as his arms gripped her shoulders and then travelled to her hands to pin them against the bed, much to her annoyance and discomfort. He chuckled, looking down at her, the both of them half-naked. Through the moonlight from the hotel window, she could make out the sharp features in his face, the defined muscles of his arms and stomach, and the streaks of purple in his dark hair. "I'm not talking nonsense, and I am very serious. I asked you why you're so eager," he said with a glint in his eyes as he allowed one of his hands—without letting her out of his hold—to glide over her stomach; it wasn't quite flat but also not extremely pudgy. "Don't you remember?"
