𝐓𝐀𝐄𝐊𝐎𝐎𝐊 𝐒𝐌𝐔𝐓 | 𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐨𝐦 𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐤𝐨𝐨𝐤 (𝓜)

Headed To Hell for the Company || XXI.

tw// religion

Ao3 credit: rix

summary: A series of one-shots depicting Taehyung's time with his mildly sex-crazed half-demon boyfriend Jungkook.

If you're the author and want this taken down, dm me, woopsie..

"Tae."

"Ungh."

"Tae."

"No."

"Tae." Jungkook reaches off the bed with his foot and pokes Taehyung's ribs, who's lying on the floor without even the energy to swat him away.

"What," he grumbles, rolling from his back onto his side to glare up at Jungkook.

Jungkook grins sweetly. "I want ice cream."

Taehyung clicks his tongue and rolls to face the other way. "Get it yourself."

Frowning, Jungkook flexes his toes and this time pokes the back of Taehyung's sweaty t-shirt. "But I want to get ice cream with you."

"No you don't. You want to watch me suffer."

"Yeah. Okay, I do, whatever. And I want ice cream." Jungkook's toes keep poking until Taehyung rolls back over to catch his false, enticing smile. "Please?"

Groaning, Taehyung reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a couple loose bills, throwing the crumpled paper at Jungkook. "Go buy it yourself. 'S too fucking hot."

Jungkook's lip curls. Because this is not how this is supposed to be going. Leaving the money, he climbs off the bed and kneels next to where Taehyung is rolling on the floor, wearing loose shorts and an even looser t-shirt yet still coated in sweat.

"Tae-tae," Jungkook whispers, a little too softly to be casual. At that, Taehyung's eyes snap open, fixing on Jungkook's coy gaze, his cute, wide eyes. His pouting bottom lip, light sheening off over where he passes his tongue, his blunt, matte black horns that protrude from beneath his ruffled hair, one of the few physical demon traits that show on him.

Being alone with Taehyung, there's no need to conceal them. Behind him, his swishy tail, now comfortably untucked from his pants, curls and sways from side to side.

"I'm seriously dying, Jungkook—" Taehyung begins, but Jungkook just rolls his eyes, not even letting him finish. Instead he swings one leg to the other side of Taehyung's body, straddling him before sitting square on his hips. "Unf—Fuck, get off, you—"

"I want ice cream," Jungkook repeats, infuriatingly playful. Taehyung begins to struggle, muttering something about it being too fucking hot for this, but a sharp sting of concentrated heat against his neck stops him short.

"Kook," he says carefully, a bitter warning barbed in his tone.

"Yes?" Jungkook grins, his inhumanly sharp canines digging into his pillowy bottom lip. One hand is placed flat on Taehyung's chest. The other is held at Taehyung's throat, index finger extended and carefully placed right over the tender skin.

A threat? Possibly. Knowing him, though, it's more of a game. Jungkook's always loved using the hellish aspects of his abilities to torment Taehyung.

Smiling, he presses his burning index finger down onto Taehyung's pulse, like a branding. And Taehyung grits his teeth at the immense pain, feeling the flame shoot right down his spine, alight in his bloodstream. Because Jungkook is terrible. Even worse when he doesn't get what he wants.