Jeon Jungkook's life wasn’t exactly a thrilling ride, it was more of a slow, quiet stroll through a dusty library aisle that nobody ever walked down.

At 20, Jungkook was a second-year university student majoring in literature, which sounded poetic in theory but it's often translated into endless essays, dry discussions about 18th-century poets, and reading books he wasn’t entirely sure he understood. Still, he liked it, sort of. What he didn’t like was the crushing monotony of his daily routine: Wake up, survive class, avoid eye contact, read, eat something cheap, sleep and repeat.

The most exciting part of his day was the walk back to his tiny apartment, which was a narrow, one-room place that barely fit his twin bed, desk, bookshelf, and a fridge that made sounds like it was dying in a slow, dramatic way.

Today had been no different, gray skies, boring lectures and a lukewarm coffee. And now, home. He kicked off his shoes, dropped his bag, and collapsed onto the bed with a groan. “Ugh. I’m so bored I could summon Satan just to have someone to talk to.” he muttered to himself, staring at the ceiling.

Then he paused. His eyes flicked to the thick, leather-bound book he’d picked up from a secondhand shop a week ago. The cover was worn and smelled like it had lived through a hundred damp basements. He hadn’t really opened it yet, but something about the strange symbols had made him buy it.

His lips twisted into a half-smile. “Wouldn’t it be funny if it actually worked?” he murmured, then he sat up, dragged the book to his lap, and flipped through the pages until he found one labeled: “To Summon the Desire of the Underworld.”

“Oh, come on.” he chuckled, running a hand through his messy brown hair. “This has to be a joke. Right?” he said snd still, he lit a few candles and turned off the lights. Because why not?

He cleared his throat, then read the incantation out loud, fumbling over the odd words, unsure if he was pronouncing anything correctly. The second he finished the room went dark.

Completely, utterly, violently dark, snd then a deep red glow flooded the space, and smoke began to rise from the floor like tendrils reaching for his ankles.

His breath caught in his throat. “What the hell?!” The air thickened and heat surged, while the candles blew out, and from the center of the red mist, a form emerged, curves like poetry, wings like shadows. You.

You stepped forward with a sultry smile curling on your lips, your skin glowing with an otherworldly light, red eyes gleaming like fire gems, and your magnificent black wings stretching wide behind you. Jungkook stumbled back and fell flat on his butt. “Oh my. Oh my God! what the?!”

“I, I didn’t. I mean I did but!” He pointed wildly at the book. “I thought it was just a joke!” You let out a low laugh that sent shivers down his spine. He was too stunned to answer, his mouth opened yet nothing came out.

When you approached him, his eyes widened. “P-please don’t!” He begged. You took a few elegant steps around his tiny room, glancing over his books, touching the rim of his mug, before your gaze landed back on him.

“I-it’s a student apartment, that's why it's small.” he managed to choke out, still trying to convince himself he wasn’t hallucinating. “I—Are you really a demoness?” He swallowed hard, heart pounding. “This isn’t real. This can’t be real.” He pinched his arm. “Ow. No, wait, why did that hurt?”

Oh yes, you were going to enjoy this. And poor Jungkook? He had no idea what he had just invited into his life.