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Hell Yeah - 01

Pairings: Demon!BTS x f!reader, Yoongi x reader (main), everyone x everyone

Summary: You accidentally summon a demon after a few drinks with your friends and manage to make him mess up his ritual to get back home. Now you're stuck in hell with a morally grey squad of demons who take you in (some more welcoming than others) and promise to try and bring you back to where you belong. Getting to know them during your warm holiday down south makes it clear though, that you're not the only one in need of help.

Genre: Fluff, smut, reader has multiple sexual partners, everyone is horny as hell, a bit of reverse harem (but not every single member), it's hinted at that reader isn't Korean and doesn't really know about the culture, it's also hinted that she's around the same age as BTS, reader has a cat!!, strangers to lovers, found family, comedy, but also trauma and angst, crack in terms of their idol lives being re-written to fit into hell (Bang PD is the devil for example), fantasy elements (demonic powers, the underworld, magic)

Fic Warnings: MDNI, explicit sexual content, blasphemy, lots of trauma. See Hell Yeah Masterlist for a full list of warnings (beware)!

Chapter Warnings: Cursing and a lot of it, Yoongi's blatant hatred of AI, reader has a meltdown when she realizes she's stuck in hell, Tae being a funny perv

Word count: 11.4k

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01 - Down South

"What the fuck!" you shriek as an unknown man materializes out of thin air in the middle of your living room. Scared shitless, you scramble back on the floor from where you were sitting until your back hits the couch.

He groans, mumbling angrily, in a language you don't understand, while you just stare at him with wide eyes, shaking. Your brain is working on overdrive, the gears turning probably visible to your uninvited guest.

“What?” you stutter, before your mind finally starts to connect some puzzle pieces.

You tried to conjure up Kimchi, just for shits and giggles, obviously not expecting this stupid ritual to work. The man in front of you looks to be of Asian descent. Did you actually summon a Korean man instead of Korean food? Again, what the fuck?!

He rolls his eyes at you before his gaze falls to the red chopsticks in his right hand and groans. He snips his fingers. “Ugh, of course.” His language has switched to an annoyed English now.

"For fuck's sake," he grumbles, "I was just sitting down to have lunch." He looks towards the floor, a bowl of spilt fried rice at his feet and on your carpet. Some is even stuck to his shoe. He shakes it off like a cat that accidentally got its paw wet.

“Lunch? It’s 11 pm.”

Why are you even questioning him? His dietary choices and when he eats his meals should be the least of your concerns, when you have no idea what just happened and how he appeared in your apartment. Maybe he’s doing intermittent fasting. None of your business anyway.

Okay, you might have some idea on how it happened actually, but that would defeat everything you believe - or rather don't believe in.

The guy just rolls his eyes at you, shaking his head with an annoyed frown, as if it’s not him intruding on you. “Not where I’m from.”

The hell? Where exactly is he from? A different timezone then? “Korea, by chance?” you carefully try, not entirely believing this is a conversation you're actually having. This can't be happening.

“Not exactly.”

Vague. Bitter. Rude. He’s not helping you understand any of this.

“What do you want?” he asks, fingers curling around his chopsticks, making his knuckles turn even whiter than his skin.

Huh? “What do you want?” you ask. “Why are you here and what the fuck is going on?”

He clicks his tongue, eyes fixed to the floor with his head hanging low, long black hair falling forward. “You summoned me.” He looks up at you now, brows knitted as he cocks his head to the side, studying you. “So you tell me why I’m here. It's not even your time yet.”

“My time?” Seriously, this guy must be insane! “Are you the grim reaper?”

“Worse,” he says with a grin, mocking you with his perfectly feline features.

He’s beginning to piss you off… Why can't he just explain himself like a normal person? You shake your head with a huff. “What then? The devil?”

“Not quite as bad,” he shoots back.

You stare at him, irritated and still very much confused. Okay, last try before you jump him and stab him with his chopsticks. “I don’t know, uh…” You motion with your hand, while pondering. “A fucking demon?”

“Correct,” he nods, twirling the red utensils between his fingers.

“You… You’re joking, right?” You stammer, dumbfounded, and finally take a moment to properly take in the guy standing before you.

He observes you with an amused expression now instead of the scowl from before while you eye him up and down, desperately trying to form a coherent thought.

The dude doesn't look like a demon at all, the most extraordinary thing about him being a bright red scar going vertically from his forehead down across his eye, though sparing the skin there and continuing down to his cheek. It stands out, contrasting his milky white skin.

His black hair is long-ish, down to his shoulders almost. Some of the slightly wavy strands keep falling into his face, making him brush his hand through his hair an obnoxious amount of times.

You almost scoff at the open hawaiian-print shirt he’s wearing over a fucking wifebeater. Some necklaces are dangling against his chest. You scan further down over the ripped black jeans exposing his knees, to the stompy black boots he’s sporting.

You were probably staring a bit too hard - what the fuck are you judging his outfit for, this is not the situation for it - and he snaps his ring-clad fingers, bringing you back to reality.

“You’re seriously trying to tell me demons are real and they are dressed,” you motion your hand towards his casual look, “like this?”

“What, you got an issue with my clothes?” He cocks an eyebrow.

“It’s just not what I would have expected, I guess?” Yeah, you didn't imagine demons would look effortlessly cool, much less hot. Great, you’re apparently getting the hots for intruding hell monsters now. You rake through your memories, trying to recall if you hit your head recently, because what the fuck.

He puts the chopsticks into the backpocket of his jeans, then rubs his hands together before bringing them to his mouth. Fingers interlaced with an opening between his thumbs and pointer fingers, he blows a breath between them with a slow exhale, like he’s cold. Your confusion must be obvious when he regards you. “What? It’s a bit warmer where I’m from… Now, before I leave, how the hell did you manage to summon a demon when you didn't even know they existed?”

Well… Funny story actually. You had friends over, had a couple of glasses together and someone whipped out the dusty old ouija board from the back of your wardrobe. You were playing around, acting scared while you all knew one of you probably moved the planchette to Yes intentionally when Nicole asked if her ex’s hairline would start receding soon.

You had looked up some stuff on how to use it properly and had engaged in a quick discussion with ChatGPT about different supernatural topics then, that you resumed once your friends left.

“I um… actually tried to conjure some kimchi for fun,” you explain, feeling your cheeks heat up in embarrassment, scratching the back of your neck while looking at the floorboards instead of his face. “ChatGPT gave me instructions and I thought it's just some bullshit, you know.” You look up at him now, his brows in a slight frown before you go on, “Do you even know what ChatGPT is?”

Another contemptuous scowl. “Duh, of course. Where do you think it originated? One of my boss's better ideas to be honest.” A faint smile spreads on his face. “Making people even dumber while draining the worlds’ resources at the same time? Genius.”

Oh. When Nicole said AI was an invention straight from hell you didn't think she was literally correct.

“Anyway, I’m gonna head back now. You wasted enough of my designated lunch break. Don’t do that shit again, okay?”

“Do I not get three wishes or something, at least?”

He smirks, popping a middle finger at you all smug and snips his fingers. And then - nothing happens. Like, at all. He’s just standing there, staring at his right hand, then at the other one that’s still flipping you off and back at you with wide eyes. He drops his arms and snips again. Unsuccessfully.

“Um,” you grimace. “Was something supposed to happen, or?” Somehow his apparent performance issues are giving you second-hand embarrassment.

“Do you have stage fright?” You grin now, his cool demeanour visibly crumbling before you. “Just imagine me in my underwear or something if it helps.”

“Can you please shut up for a second?” he snaps at you.

You lift both your hands up in a dismissive apology, but decide to stop teasing him and keep quiet instead. Seems like something’s really off, he’s started pacing around the room now, circling the spilt fried rice still on the floor, while mumbling unintelligible words to himself. “What ritual did you perform exactly?” he suddenly asks, whirling around to face you.

You decide to finally leave your spot on the floor and just as you turn towards the couch for leverage, the demon reaches his hand out towards you to help you up, impatiently. You allow him to pull you up with a firm grip, the weirdly cold metal of his rings digging into your skin. “I um, I’m not really sure,” you say with a shrug of your shoulders. “Was my first ever ritual, you know?”

“Ugh, Christ,” he hisses, opening his palm in front of you. “Gimme your phone then. Fucking AI bullshit.”

“Are you even allowed to use that word?” you ask, earning you nothing but a stern look and a wiggle of his outstretched fingers. “Damn, here.” You unlock your phone, open the diabolical™️ app and hand it to him.

He reads the instructions, brows rising slightly as he takes in the information, then nods once. His eyes shoot up to yours, judging you. “You humans are going to need a step by step guide on how to breathe soon, too? Pathetic.”

You silently pray he's not going to scroll further up to find out the embarrassingly mundane things you looked up before and prove his point.

“Anything else?” you bite back, holding up your palm now, waiting for him to hand back your phone. “Found what you’re looking for?”

When he doesn’t answer you reach out and try to snatch it back from his grip, but he’s faster, moving it out of reach as he takes a step back. “Yes. And more.” He smirks now, reading your past conversations with ChatGPT out loud. “American jello salad recipe? Ew, don’t tell me you actually made that.”

“I did not,” you protest, chasing after him while trying to yank your phone away from him.

“‘Roast me based on everything you know about me’? You let it do that for free? Is that a special kind of humiliation kink you got going on there?”

“No, because I would love this situation at hand then, which I can promise you I do not!” You pout, defeated, which apparently looks pitiful enough for the demon to have mercy on you and finally hand you back your little gadget of shame.

At least now you know that he wasn't lying about being from hell. You lock your phone and pocket it as more embarrassment spreads across your cheeks and down your neck. That absolute spawn of Satan…

He doesn’t give you time to dwell on it though, as he’s looking around the living room and makes his way to the kitchen in the corner. “I need salt,” he says as he’s rummaging through your cabinets. “Do you mind?”

“You think now's the time for a snack?”

He scoffs, having found it himself before rolling his eyes at you.

“Would you stop bullshitting and grab some candles?” he demands, obviously in a hurry to get the fuck out of here.

Since you’re also keen on him leaving as soon as possible, or waking up from this weird dream you’re obviously having, you head for the drawer immediately. “How many do you need?” you ask. “Any scent you prefer?”

He stands in the middle of your living room, pack of salt in hand and yet another frown on his face. “Scent? I just need regular candles. Five of them.”

Who owns unscented candles…? You shrug to yourself, grabbing random ones to hand them over. “You’re gonna have to work with pumpkin spice and lavender fields I’m afraid.”

He’s struggling to hold all of them at once and starts placing the candles in a strange formation on the ground. Before putting the last one down though, he takes a closer look at the label. “Mountain lodge? Now what the fuck would that smell like…”

He brings the glass rim closer to his nose, immediately regretting his decision as his face scrunches up in disgust. With the corners of his mouth downturned, you can see him suppressing a gag.

“That one was a gift,” you lie, trying to justify that foul smelling candle.

“Sure,” he coughs out after collecting himself, holding the candle as far away from his face as the length of his arm allows. “Must have been a gift from your archenemy judging by that stench.”

“God, shut up.” You pick up a white candle from the floor - the one with the pretty lid - and bring it to his face. “Smell that one to even it out.”

He lifts a brow in suspicion, obviously not trusting you after being assaulted by mountain lodge, but leans in anyway. “Oh.”

“See?” you chuckle. “Fresh cotton. My favorite.”

“That one’s… alright, I guess.”

“It’s perfect. Not just alright.”

“Yeah, whatever,” he mumbles while snatching the candle out of your hand, giving it another sniff before setting it back down on the ground.

He nudges your shoulder to move you out of the way without an explanation. There's a snarky remark sitting readily on your tongue, but you decide to keep it to yourself for once, so you just huff and cross your arms across your chest, waiting to see what he's going to do next from the sidelines.

He starts pouring the salt on your (freshly vacuumed and wiped) hardwood floor, creating a pentagram out of the granules. Each point of the star touches a candle as he moves the bag of salt around in one fluid motion.

“So you just know that ritual by heart, or what?” you ask, tapping your foot impatiently.

“I mean yeah, that’s kind of my job.”

“Will this thing erupt into flames and ruin my floorboards? I just cleaned them today by the way. If I lose my deposit because of you, I’m gonna summon you again to pay for it.”

The demon stares you down now, dark eyes narrowing. “If you do that, I’ll burn down the entire apartment complex.”

He wouldn’t do that. Would he? Oh shit. “I-”

“Do you ever not talk?” he interrupts you, shuffling around in his salty star formation, wafting some of the grains across the floor from the movement. “Now let me finish this. Actually, go on and help me. Light the candles so I can concentrate on getting the hell out of here.”

You scurry to grab the lighter from a side table before moving around the room to ignite the wicks. Just as you are about to pick up the first one, fresh cotton, he interrupts you.

“Leave them on the floor, you'll mess up the formation.”

Rolling your eyes, you begrudgingly comply and crouch down. The motherfucker is smirking, you can see it at the edge of your line of vision as you set the first candle aflame while he just stands there, hands in his pockets.

You scuffle about, lighting wick after wick until your lighter runs hot. So when you reach the last unlit candle, mountain lodge, you burn your thumb trying to roll the spark wheel. Hissing, you wave your hand around, trying to get the pain to subside. Fuck it, it's not like you're too stupid to put the candle back down in the same spot, so you grab it and straighten your legs back out to stand up.

“Did I not tell you to leave them on the ground?” the demon sighs and steps closer to you, once again brushing his hair out of his face. What an annoying habit.

“Ever thought about just cutting your hair?” With your thumb still hurting, you just can't get the damn lighter to spark a flame, making you increasingly frustrated.

He reaches for mountain lodge, but you're dead set on lighting the fucking candle yourself, so you refuse to let go, still struggling with the lighter in your other hand.

He just huffs and lets you hold on to it before he points his finger towards the wick, which immediately ignites as if by magic. The demon lifts the finger to his mouth and blows on it like a cowboy in a cheap western movie.

“Are you kidding me?” you groan. “You could do that the whole time and still had me crouching on the floor like an idiot?”

He chuckles, shrugging his shoulders. “You were so nice and quiet for once, all concentrated.”

Debating if you should knock him over the head with mountain lodge, you step closer, holding the burning candle directly under his nose.

“Fire doesn’t hurt me, if you’re trying to get back at me. The smell’s enough of a punishment though.” He opens up his palm. “Give me that.”

“Stop bossing me around. I'm perfectly capable of putting it down myself,” you retort and try to move the candle out of his reach.

“As capable as you were summoning kimchi?” he mocks, moving closer into your space to grip the stinky glass container.

Both too stubborn to let the other have their way, you scuffle around, pulling and pushing the candle between your hands.

“Fucking hell,” he mutters when he finally manages to snatch it from your fingers and bends down to place it back in the corner of the pentagram. “If you mess this up I’m going to have to start again from scratch!”

You just pout in defeat, watching him step into the middle of the formation and mumble unintelligible words with his eyes closed.

Guess this nuisance of a demon will finally piss off now. You already dread the clean up of the mess he made on the floor.

After a last brush through his hair - ugh - he snaps his fingers again. This time, something happens. A lot happens actually. The whole room spins and turns, whirling you around in a nauseating pace until you lose your footing. Oh shit, it’s not the room that’s spinning - it’s you! The candles are levitating around you, flying about and barely missing your head, while you writhe back and forth like a leaf caught in a storm. You close your eyes and scream, shielding your face with your arms. When an unknown objects hits your elbow, you reach out panicking - grabbing onto whatever you can with both hands. Something solid ends up in your left and something soft in your right. You don’t dare to open your eyes, so you just grip on for dear life in hopes to find your balance again.

You feel your right hand being squeezed as you try to convince yourself that this surely is just a nightmare. It has to be. Your own fingers tighten around whatever's in them, your mind too jumbled to figure out what you're even holding on to.

With a sudden thump there’s solid ground under your feet again. It takes you a second to comprehend that you have stopped being spun around. Your knees give out from under you but before you can fall down, you’re being pulled up by your hand to keep you steady. When you open your eyes with careful blinks, your vision blurry from pressing them shut for so long, you slowly come back to your senses. He’s there - whatever his name is - looking at you, lips agape in slight shock. You shake your head as if it’s going to make him disappear.

You are interrupted when you feel your fingers being squeezed, so hard it borders on painful, as warm metal pushes into your skin. It’s the damned rings of his, you realise when you look down. The rings that are around his fingers. The fingers that are intertwined with yours!

You immediately let go, yanking your hand out of his grip, as if the touch had burned you, at the same time also releasing whatever you were holding in your other, not having paid any mind to it until it hits the floor with a thud and rolls away.

“What the fuck?” you hear an unknown voice echo around you.

“What’s going on?” another voice sounds.

“Fuck, quick, get Namjoon,” someone calls out before you hear footsteps scurrying away.

As you turn around to see who the hell else is intruding on you in your apartment now, you catch on that you are in fact not at home anymore. What is this place? Where are you? And how in the world did you even get here? Panicked, you turn to the only set of eyes staring at you that you know, silently asking for an explanation, since the shock of apparently having just been teleported to fuck knows where left you speechless.

“Oh shit,” the demon whispers, eyes wide and hair disheveled, immediately reaching up to brush it out of his face once again. The familiarity of the irritating gesture somehow stops your mind from going in circles. At least one thing hasn’t changed, he’s still the annoying bitch he was a few minutes ago. You take a deep breath to ground yourself when you hear unintelligible mumbles getting closer to you, accompanied by hurried steps reverberating off the floorboards, making you whip around towards the direction of the sounds.

“Yoongi, what did you do this time?” the guy that's rushing into the room asks.

Okay, so the demon’s name is Yoongi. Strange. Cute. Doesn't fit him. You were expecting something along the lines of Beelzebub.

“Yeah, what did you do?” you demand to know, wanting nothing more than to get back home.

“Oh,” another person says. He’s tall and pretty and wears a lip piercing. “It can speak.” He looks at you with the same disdain that you return straight back to him, after what he just called you.

“It?” you repeat, shocked and on the verge of losing it. “Motherf-”

“Okay, everybody calm down!” The guy who just addressed your demon as Yoongi interrupts your squabble. “Jeongguk, sit down and be quiet.”

Jeongguk, the asshole, does as he’s told, scoffing and biting his lip as if he has to hold himself back from talking more shit. He's plopping down on a big leather couch, eyeing you as if your mere existence is offensive to him.

“You two,” the guy with the firm voice looks at you and Yoongi. “An explanation please.”

“What are you asking me for?” you snap back, pissed off by the implied accusation. “I have no idea what the fuck happened.”

“Me neither,” Yoongi sighs as he sits down next to Jeongguk, who scoots over to make room. “She summoned me by accident and I had to do the pentagram ritual to get back. She must have messed with it or something.”

“You think I tried to come with you or what?! I wanted you to fucking leave as much as you did. Maybe you messed up your weird candle routine!”

“Ah, so that’s what you dropped,” another stranger speaks as he bends down to reach for something beneath the coffee table. “I’m Hoseok, by the way.” He picks up the candle you apparently brought with you and inspects it closely. “Mountain lodge?”

“No, don’t!” Yoongi calls out, reaching out his arm in warning.

Too late, Hoseok sticks his nose into the candle. The room falls silent. His eyebrows rise. In delight?! “Wow, I love that! You mind if I keep it?”

Yoongi groans in disbelief.

“Um, sure,” you tell him. At least this one is somewhat polite.

“Thank you!” he says like he means it. “And what’s your name?”

You tell him, while the other five are still staring at you.

Finally having a second to take in your surroundings, you see that you landed in some kind of grand living room. The walls are made of exposed stone, the floorboards are wooden and look expensive but old and worn. Above you, there’s a giant chandelier dangling from the ceiling. Did you spawn into fucking Dracula’s castle?! Maybe Yoongi sleeps in a coffin, that would explain his shitty attitude. Do demons even sleep? Your mind starts to spiral again, panic threatening to take over.

Just as your head begins to spin, you are startled by someone gently touching your arm.

“Hey, calm down,” someone addresses you with a soft voice. You whip around and find the guy who stopped Jeongguk and you from getting into a fist fight. He's smiling at you, as if to reassure you. “My name’s Namjoon.”

Namjoon stands taller than Yoongi, his body more substantial in general. His hair is kind of spiky, tousled, and the ends are a bit lighter. He's dressed in a baggy sweater, but his jeans are fitted nicely to his thighs.

“You already had the pleasure with Yoongi and Jeongguk then,” he says with an exasperated raise of his brows. “Hoseok introduced himself by stealing your stuff, dashing as always.” Namjoon turns around, addressing the other two guys still standing behind him. “That leaves Jimin and Taehyung.”

They step closer, both with looks of quiet disbelief on their faces, yet the taller of the two at least forces a smile. He raises his hand and offers you a small wave. “Hi, I’m Taehyung.”

God, he’s cute. His voice contrasts his looks, all soft and airy - not nearly as harsh as you would have expected it to be - considering his muscles, clad in black leather and silver chains.

You don't really know why he looks like he's one of the Village People, all the others are casually dressed. Maybe that's just his personal style. Or he's a biker.

“And I’m Jimin,” the last of them says with a nod of his head. His blonde hair is kind of fried from bleaching, long strands that fall to his shoulders, giving him an 80s glam rock vibe. Not in a bad way though, it really suits him. Actually, he looks quite ethereal.

Damn, why is everyone here good-looking? Even that dickhead Jeongguk, now that you give him another once-over.

“Want a picture for later?” he snarls at you with venom in his voice.

“For a voodoo doll, maybe, yeah,” you counter before Yoongi stops a fight from breaking out by slapping Jeongguk's shoulder.

“Just shut your bratty mouth for once, would you?” he grumbles and you’re not sure if he’s addressing Jeongguk or you. “Both of you, actually.”

Well, that solves that riddle. You pout, just like Jeongguk did earlier when he was told off.

“So,” Namjoon claps his hands together once, looking at you. “Now that we’re all acquainted, we should try bringing you back.”

“Okay, yes,” you nod. Finally someone is trying to solve this. “How?”

“Well, Yoongi brought you with him, so I figure one of us could just take you back the same way.”

Wait. They’re all like him? Demons? Is he serious? They seem to notice you catching on, watching you with amused expressions.

Jeongguk snorts. “Wow, quick thinker, huh?”

Jesus, does this idiot ever shut up?

“Okay, whatever, just get me home, please.”

Namjoon steps closer to you and holds out his hand. You grab it without hesitation because you just want to get the fuck out of here already. Let this nightmarish experience end.

“Just think of where you want to go,” he tells you and you immediately picture the comfort of your own living room.

He closes his eyes and before you can even blink, your hand is suddenly empty and Namjoon is gone. Nothing happened to you, no whirlwind sucking you away. You stare at your hand holding on to nothing before snapping your head back up.

The others perked up at this as well, eyeing each other silently. Shit, this doesn't bode well.

Yoongi sighs and gets up from the couch. Guess he'll try next. “Maybe it has to be me?”

He offers you his hand without looking at you.

Please, please let it work, you silently pray as you take hold of his palm. A second later - poof - Yoongi's gone too and you're still standing in that same spot. Desperation is taking over you at this point, tears threatening to well up at the thought that you're goddamn stuck here.

“Anyone else, please?!” you plead, looking around the room.

“Let’s wait till Yoongi and Joon come back,” Hoseok says while leading you to sit down on the couch where Jeongguk makes an act of dramatically scooting away as far as possible from you.

“Just for a bit, and then we will try too, okay?” Hoseok pats your arm somewhat awkwardly.

“Don't worry, we don't want you to stay here either,” Jeongguk chimes in, picking at his cuticles like he has no care in the world.

“You want a drink while we wait?” Taehyung asks with his hands in his pockets. “Or something to eat?”

No, you really don’t want a drink, you want to go home, and your appetite for kimchi from earlier has vanished the second Yoongi appeared before you.

You put your head in your hands and just lift your eyes again when Taehyung puts a glass of what you guess is water down in front of you anyway with an apologetic smile.

“Hey,” Jimin addresses you now, pulling you out of your wallowing. “It’s gonna be fine, they'll figure it out, alright?”

“Where are we right now exactly?” you ask, already dreading the answer and that they're probably not going to be able to drive you home with a car either.

“Guess,” Jeongguk grins. “Look out the window if you must.”

With him there, it's got to be your own personal hell, you think while trying to locate a window. When your eyes finally snap to a glass panel in the stone wall, all you see is black. You try to focus on the outside and realise there are what look to be flames or a fire in the distance. The darkness is tinged slightly orange by it.

“You’re trying to tell me this is real?” you ask. “You’re all demons and we’re in literal hell?”

“Home sweet home, baby,” Jeongguk merely chuckles at your misery.

You’d slap him if you weren’t so close to tears. What did you do to deserve this? Yes, you’ve probably sinned a lot, but not more than anyone else and certainly less than some people you know. And you don’t even believe in the concept of sin. Why you?

You'll never use ChatGPT again. That fuckass app. Maybe it's actually the downfall of humanity.

You groan in defeat, face buried in your hands, when Namjoon and Yoongi suddenly pop back into the room. Everyone looks at them in suspense, eyeing them expectantly.

“It’s not looking good,” Namjoon exhales as he dusts off his shoulder with a flick of his hand.

Not looking good? What does that mean? Not good as in eternal hellfire, or more like a few hours of being grilled?

“Not good, meaning what exactly?” Jeongguk speaks your thoughts into existence. “Don’t tell me we are stuck with that stray.” To give his words more weight, he looks you up and down with disgust.

As much as you’d like to call him a bitch right now, you actually couldn’t give less of a fuck about what he’s saying. You need to know what the two found out in your apartment.

Namjoon disperses the hostile moment when he finally starts to explain what they learned.

“You two smudged the salt on the floor. Yoongi told me you bickered about something, maybe one of you messed with the pentagram then. That must be why the ritual went all kinds of wrong,” he concludes.

Yoongi meets your eye and you look at each other sternly for a moment. You know he wants to blame you, just as much as you have him to blame. But since everyone here would probably be on his side anyway, you decide to be the bigger person for once and don’t announce your thoughts. “Okay, um,” you begin. “So is there another way I can be brought back?”

“Not that we know of,” Yoongi shakes his head.

“The others should try bringing you back too though, just so we can be sure,” Namjoon says. “If it doesn’t work, which I expect, I’ll have to figure out a different solution.”

“Okay, well, who's up next?” you stand up and ask into the room, impatient. You are already holding out your hand to be grabbed by whoever when Hoseok, the mountain lodge enthusiast, takes hold of it.

“Let’s try this again,” he half-smiles at you, not really convincing you that his outlook’s that optimistic either, but you are still somewhat thankful for his hesitant reassurance.

When Hoseok also vanishes without you, you cry out in frustration before waving your fingers at Jimin.

“Your turn, please,” you urge him to have a go, all hope you had to go home slowly dissipating.

While Hoseok reappears with a sigh, Jimin reaches for your hand.

“Please get me out of here,” you whisper with tears in your eyes now. Jimin grimaces at your words, obviously not anticipating a better outcome, but he tries nonetheless. To no avail, as you find out a second later when he too leaves you standing there with empty fingers.

Taehyung steps closer before you say anything, a boyish smile on his face with his eyes looking at the floor. “I’ll try, promise,” he says as he gently takes your hand in his.

You hear a quiet swish and he's gone too. Fuck. Him and Jimin return a moment later and you realise that your last chance at going home is sulking on the sofa, checking out his nailbeds again.

“Don’t be an ass,” Hoseok scoffs at Jeongguk's behaviour and pulls him from the couch.

“Ugh, fine,” he complies with a roll of his eyes, moving as slowly as he possibly can.

For someone who wants you to leave as urgently as he announced, he’s really not putting in any effort to make it happen. When he stretches out his hand with his face turned to the side, looking at Namjoon and not you, you think that you should probably send him to a dumpster instead of your living room. You swallow down a laugh as you think of that place and imagine him coming back covered in dirt, a banana peel on his shoulder and twigs sticking out from his hair.

Jeongguk pulls back his hand from you, squinting at you in abhorrence. “Can’t imagine your place looks that much different,” he says with a shake of his head. “But actually, fuck off. You just blew your last chance.”

He turns around on his heels and stomps out of the room. You can hear a door being slammed shut in the distance. Fucking brat.

“What did you do?” Jimin asks.

“Thought about sending him to a dumpster, but only for a second,” you explain. “It just came to me because he’s so mean and annoying. I wasn’t really going to do it.”

Someone snorts, Taehyung you think, as you turn around to check and find him grinning with his head turned away from the others.

“I doubt it would have worked anyway,” Yoongi says. “Even if you hadn't pissed him off.”

Wait a moment. How did Jeongguk even know you were contemplating sending him to a garbage dump?

“Don’t tell me Jeongguk can read my mind. He can’t, right?!” You look around between the others, scared.

“Nah,” Yoongi sighs. “It’s just when travelling. Or trying to. We can see the desired destination of the other person if we’re not picturing it ourselves.”

Why is all that demon shit so god damn complicated? And what does that mean now? You’re stuck here, in hell, with all those imps, until the tallest demon figures ‘something’ out?

A wave of nausea washes over you before your knees give out and you crumble to the floor, panic taking over again. You can't hold back your tears now anymore either, they roll down your cheeks in streams while you hyperventilate. This can't be true.

Someone is crouching next to you, stroking your back, no doubt in an attempt to get you to calm down. How the fuck are you supposed to calm down when you're imprisoned in literal hell? And what about Lucy? He’ll starve without you!

“My cat!” you wail. “My cat’s still up there. He’ll die, oh my god, my baby will die.”

“Breathe,” you hear Jimin next to you, his hand still on your back. “He’s going to be fine. We, uh, we can go and pick him up.”

You slump forward on to your hands, exhausted but relieved at Jimin’s words. “You can?” you ask, sniffling and trying to catch your breath.

“Sure,” he nods, looking around at the others. “We wanted to get ourselves a pet anyway.”

“I can get him,” Taehyung says. “Boss, will you come too? You’re always good with animals.”

“Yeah, okay,” Yoongi exhales quietly.

Yoongi is their boss? Or is that just a stupid nickname? You eye him, shorter and of less substance than all the others. Huh. You assumed Namjoon was their demon leader. He seems like the brain of this clan.

“Why haven’t I seen a cat in your apartment though?” Yoongi asks you.

“Because he doesn’t like men, usually hides under the couch when strangers are there and his fur is black.”

“Ah, perfect,” he sighs. “Anything else we should know? What’s his name?”

“You should be able to lure him out with treats from the cabinet above the fridge. He likes to be picked up with a hand under his belly. Hold him so that his front paws can rest on your shoulder. He doesn’t like to be held like a baby. And his name is Lucy.”

“Lucy? For a male cat?”

Oh god. You didn't even realise until now. “Um yeah. It’s short for… Lucifer.”

“Of course it is.”

Taehyung actually throws his head back and laughs wholeheartedly at this revelation.

“You got a thing for devilish stuff, huh?” Jimin grins.

Taehyung is still giggling when he links his arm with Yoongi and they once again vanish into thin air.

Hoseok helps you off the floor and walks you into another room while you wipe the tear stains off your cheeks with your sleeve. He sits you down at a big dining table, surrounded by seven chairs.

“Do you like kimchi fried rice?” he asks you. “Jeongguk made some earlier. You must be hungry from all that excitement.”

You want to decline at first but then your stomach audibly growls. Maybe you are hungry. “Thank you,” you quietly say before Hoseok steps out.

Namjoon enters the room, your glass of water from earlier in hand and puts it down in front of you before he takes a seat as well. “I’m gonna try to find out how we can fix this as soon as possible, alright?”

You nod and look at the glass in front of you, hesitant to take a sip. Who knows what kind of stuff they have instead of normal water here?

“It’s safe to consume,” Namjoon chuckles. “I swear.”

You pick it up, trying to sniff it discreetly, so as not to offend him. When you can’t make out any weird odour, you take a tentative sip. Only now do you notice how parched you are. Dried up like a raisin actually, so you gulp the rest of the water down in one go.

“Can I ask you something?” you direct at Namjoon. “I have so many questions actually.”

“Go ahead.”

“Why are you all… or most of you, actually nice to me? I thought a demon’s job would be torturing people and stuff.”

Namjoon laughs softly, shaking his head. “We do have jobs. It’s not exactly torturing though. And we were people too, once. So we’re not born evil or anything, if that’s what you thought.”

Okay, that makes sense. Jeongguk was probably a huge asshole as a human too. “What is your job then?”

“Collecting souls.”

Oh. So that’s why Yoongi knew it wasn’t your time yet. “That means… killing people?”

“Sometimes. Mostly it’s just convincing stupid people to do more stupid stuff though. And then pluck their souls and bring them down here.”

“Okay.” You listen intently with raised eyebrows.

“It’s pretty shitty people overall though. Sinners. Boss doesn’t have much need for decent souls here. They don’t fuel the fire as well.”

“Boss as in Yoongi?”

“No, boss as in Yoongi’s boss.”

“The devil then?”

“A kind of devil. There’s levels of management so to speak.”

Oh god. Corporate even reaches down to hell. Typical. Actually, that’s the least surprising thing you’ve learned.

“What’s this boss’s name then?”

“Bang Si-hyuk.”

Okay, that doesn’t tell you anything. You nod anyway.

“People call him Bang PD sometimes.”

“PD for… Prime Devil?”

Namjoon laughs, shaking his head and shrugging his shoulders.

“So that makes Yoongi mid-management, then?”

“I guess, yeah.”

Oh, the guy has it bad…

“Okay, another question please.”

Namjoon nods, amused.

“Are all of you Korean?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

He looks at you with a raised brow.

“Sorry if that was offensive. But like… I don’t know how to word it better. Why are the only people in hell Korean?”

“We’re not the only people in hell,” he tells you with a lopsided grin. “We’re just a department that happens to be Korean. The Japanese are down the road actually.”

Oh. You landed yourself in corporate hell. Great. As if you haven't been trying to avoid just that at all costs your entire adulthood.

“Anything else you want to know?”

You hesitate, wondering if you're about to cross a line. But you're just too curious.

“How did all of you end up down here, working for the devil?”

Namjoon sighs and you can tell he's trying to find the right words.

“Let's just say we were young and dumb, we made mistakes in the past. Trusted the wrong people. Got caught in a contract we can’t get out of,” he sputters out before he stands up from his chair, turning towards the door just as Hoseok returns with a bowl of steaming food.

Guess that concludes the Q&A then. Namjoon’s been so forthcoming with answering all your questions, you feel a little bad for making him uncomfortable with that last inquiry. “Thank you for your patience,” you tell him while a delicious-looking dish of kimchi fried rice is placed in front of you.

“This has been a lot,” Hoseok states while sitting down next to you. “Eat. It will make you feel better.”

You pick up the chopsticks and shove a bite into your mouth. It's delicious. So Jeongguk is good for something after all. Maybe that's why they tolerate his attitude.

Hoseok smiles, watching you clear the bowl down to the last kernel of rice. “JK’s a great cook. I know he's been giving you shit, but please don't take it to heart.”

“Why is he such an ass anyway?” you ask Hoseok after swallowing down your last bit of food.

Hoseok laughs. “Don't know if you can tell, but emotions are on another level here. You get used to it after a while, but Jeongguk still struggles with anger from time to time. The trust issues aren’t helping either unfortunately.”

So, a demon with anger problems that obviously does not like you. Lovely combination.

“From what I saw, you can handle him though,” he concludes.

“Are you calling me a bitch?” you chuckle.

“No, girl, I'm calling you feisty.”

It's the first time you feel some semblance of ease since you landed down here. The relaxation only lasts a second though as you hear a thump from the living room. Both of you get up to investigate, as the sounds surprise you.

When you step into the room, Yoongi and Taehyung are standing there, surrounded by what seems to be every single cat toy you had in your apartment as well as a bag of litter granules and dozens of cans of food. Oh, that's why their return was so noisy. The cat food is rolling around on the floor, some of it is still in Taehyung's arms.

“Boss insisted on bringing all this stuff back with us,” he grimaces as he watches more things slip from his grip and tumble away.

At first, you don't see Lucy, wondering if they left him up there for a second. When you take a closer look at Yoongi though, you spot your cat, nestled against his chest, paws on his left shoulder, just as you instructed. Yoongi apparently swaddled his Hawaiian print shirt over Lucy, so he wouldn’t jump off immediately, one arm wrapped around his little body for support. He’s gripping the cat bed you had sitting beside your couch in his other hand, letting it fall to the ground to scratch Lucy’s chin. The damn cat is purring. He never let a man get close before and now he’s purring at a mid-management demon? Traitor. The name definitely fits.

Yoongi smiles at their newfound pet before his soft expression fades when he notices you watching him.

“Huh, Lucy likes you,” you mumble.

“Told you he's good with pets,” Tae comments while picking up stray cans around the room.

Yoongi doesn’t acknowledge the praise and shrugs before carefully setting Lucy down on the ground. The cat chirps and his tail quivers for a second until he spots you and runs over happily, as if he hadn’t just been sucked down to the pits. You crouch down and let him rub his cheek against your knee, petting him behind his ears and earning a deep purr.

“So cute,” Hoseok gushes while reaching out his hand to let Lucy smell him.

You're so relieved to have your cat back with you, tears are welling up in your eyes. You shoot up from the floor and without thinking you throw your arms around Taehyung's neck.

“Oh my god, thank you so much,” you cry into his shoulder before realising what you are doing and immediately retreat from the embrace.

Taehyung doesn't seem bothered by your surprise hug at all as he's just smiling, but you are still embarrassed by your outburst. With heated cheeks, you turn to Yoongi, nodding at him. “Thank you, really.”

Yoongi nods back, not quite meeting your eyes with his brows set in a weird expression of second-hand embarrassment before clearing his throat. “No problem.”

“Guess I'll put those in the pantry,” Taehyung announces, multiple cans stacked in his arms before walking out.

Namjoon and Jimin enter the living room at the same time. “Kitty!” Jimin squeals loudly, which scares Lucy who immediately flees the premises and hides under the sofa. “Oh, sorry.”

“Come on, let's figure out some logistics,” Namjoon waves at you and leads Jimin with him by his shoulder, moving towards the dining room.

“Just go with the others, I'll get him out from under the couch,” Yoongi dismisses you just as you are about to get down to the floor yourself.

“You don’t have to, I can get him,” you begin but he’s already kneeling, peeking under there with his head twisted and his hand outstretched. That guy loves cats, huh? Despite the fact that you hate being stuck here with your accidentally conjured up demon boss, you can’t deny how cute he looks when he acts like this. He even makes those ‘pspsps’ noises and you chuckle watching him.

His head whips around at your giggling and he glares at you. “Shoo,” he orders you to finally go join the others.

Okay, he’s back to his very annoying self. Rolling your eyes at him, you turn away and trudge to the dining room.

When you walk up to the table, Namjoon, Taehyung and Jimin are already sitting down. You move to take the seat next to Namjoon, when Hoseok comes up and stops you with a hand on your arm.

“That's Yoongi's spot,” he explains and only then do you notice that you went for the chair at the head of the table.

Oh, so they have like a proper hierarchy with rules and everything.

“Since Jin’s chair is free now, you can take his,” Namjoon tells you as he’s pointing to the one next to Yoongi’s.

Who the hell is Jin now? And what happened to him? You add it to the ever growing list of questions for later.

“I'm not going to lie, it might take me a while to find a way to get you back home,” Namjoon sighs once everyone's seated. “It's the first time we've run into this issue and I have to work through tons of literature.”

“What exactly do I have to expect in terms of a while?” you ask him, already worried you might not like the answer.

“Wish I could tell you. We actually have a spare room now, so I think it's best if you make yourself at home for now. Hoseok can show you.”

That means you’re probably not going to be able to show up at work on Monday. Which is not the worst fate to be honest. But what if it takes them months to figure it out? Will your friends and family think you got kidnapped? Will there be a police search? Fuck, your hands are getting clammy. “Okay,” you breathe out. “What about people at home worrying? They’ll think I died or got abducted or something.”

“Phones work here,” Namjoon says. “You should be able to call your family. Maybe don’t mention where you really are though. They’ll think you’ve lost it.”

You just look at him, dumbstruck until Taehyung chimes in, “Don’t act so surprised. Did you think we’re cavemen? We even have Netflix.”

“How? Just… how is that possible?” you ask.

Namjoon grins, “CEOs love to make deals with the devil. Anything’s possible in hell.”

You are interrupted trying to wrap your head around big corporations shaking hands with Satan when Yoongi enters the room, Lucy once again purring in his arms.

“Stubborn, that one,” he lets you know.

“Just like his owner,” you hear him mutter when he walks past you to get to his chair.

Lucy curls up in his lap when he sits down, all cozy, nuzzled up to him.

You ignore his comment and look at your traitorous cat for a moment before it suddenly dawns on you. Why do they all speak English so flawlessly? Is that a demon trait? Or are you being biased and rude again?

“I have another question. If you don't mind,” you quietly say while trying to find the most inoffensive way to word this. “How come all of you speak English so well?”

Well, that wasn't inoffensive at all. Shit. Your brows knit into a frown as you cringe at yourself. “Sorry.”

“We don't,” Jimin tells you. “I mean.. actually we do but it's complicated.”

“We speak most common languages,” Namjoon begins to explain. “Even Latin to some extent. That's one of the ‘gifts’ we got when signing our contracts. But right now, we're actually speaking in Korean.”

Huh? No they're not. How would you be able to understand them then?

“It's a spell,” Yoongi says with one elbow on the table, resting his chin on his hand while petting Lucy with the other. “I didn't really feel like talking in English to you earlier when you summoned me.”

“So you put a translation spell on me?” you ask, honestly more intrigued than shocked. “Do I speak Korean in your heads then?”

“Uh huh,” Hoseok nods. “Flawlessly too.”

Wow okay. So they have powers in addition to being able to fucking teleport. They speak a million languages and have demonic powers and live in hell. This is totally fine and normal and you shouldn't be disturbed at all.

“You want me to show you your room now?” Hoseok asks, apparently noticing that you need a minute to process all of this. “I'll help you carry the cat stuff.”

He's already scurrying to collect the strewn about stuff Yoongi and Taehyung brought with them when you get up. You walk over to Yoongi to get Lucy, who's still contently chilling on him. It's a little awkward because you have to pick him up straight from Yoongi's crotch, which makes your heartbeat pick up a confusing notch.

“Sorry,” you mumble while very deliberately and carefully maneuvering your hands around his lap, trying to avoid touching him in an inappropriate manner. Even though it's suddenly very tempting. Are you actually getting horny now for no reason? Hello?!

Yoongi just raises his eyebrows at you but doesn't say anything when you move Lucy off him without looking at him.

Hoseok peeks in from behind the doorframe with a big toothy smile. “Come on Ari,” he invites you to follow him.

Ari? You have to ask him about that later.

He leads you upstairs and through a hallway with multiple doors to the sides, until he stops in front of the last one.

“There we are,” he says. “Yoongi's is right next to yours. Me and all the others are also just a few doors down.”

He lets you into the room, putting Lucy's cushion down at the foot of the big bed while you look around. It doesn't look lived in, but it's not dusty at all. It looks freshly prepared for a guest actually, pillows all fluffed up and there's even a potted plant sitting on the windowsill, green and healthy.

Hoseok looks slightly surprised too.

“Oh. Must've been Yoongi.”

“He cleans?” you wonder out loud. They have Yoongi clean the rooms? If so, they have their boss well trained.

“Not exactly,” Hoseok chuckles without giving any further explanations. Instead, he arranges Lucy's toys on the dresser.

“I'll leave you to get comfortable,” he bids you farewell. “I'll come and get you for dinner.”

You plop Lucy down onto the duvet before checking out the room further.

The curtains are closed and when you pull them open, the same darkness from before looks back at you, straight into your soul.

Before the feeling of dread can take over, you put the fabric back to cover the soulcrushing black void up and turn your back to the window.

There’s another door next to the dresser and when you open it, you find a nice little en-suite bathroom, complete with a bathtub, shower, a toilet and a sink. You can work with that. There’s even a simple litter box for Lucy in the corner. Did they have a cat before?

Sighing, you sit down on the bed next to Lucy, scratching his ears.

“Where did we land ourselves, huh?” you whisper to him while he snuggles up against your hand.

The whole thing is absolutely crazy, you realise once again… Demons are real, you got sucked down to hell and now you’re stuck in this ancient mansion with six Korean soul pluckers. Maybe you had a mental breakdown and are just going through psychosis or hallucinations at the moment. If not, hopefully Namjoon and the others will figure out how to bring you back home quickly. It could have been worse though. At least they seem to be willing to try and help you. They could have abandoned you and just kicked you out, now that you’re thinking about it. You shudder at the thought of being out there in that eerie darkness by yourself. Or in general.

And they made an effort to get Lucy. Demons really aren’t what you imagined them to be. But you also thought they didn't exist. And they are all attractive as fuck. Gosh, the bar is literally in hell.

You let yourself fall back and land on the cushions with a soft thud. Are you actually just supposed to sit around and watch Netflix until you can go home? You might ask them for some books to read. Maybe they have a copy of ‘Hell for Dummies’. This gothic mansion definitely has a library. Or is that a cliché?

There are so many questions whirling through your head again, questions that google probably cannot answer. Thinking of it, you pull out your phone to check if it really works, like Namjoon told you. And he was right. There's a signal. Stronger than in your apartment actually. Which is quite embarrassing.

Okay, so you should think of a story to tell your family and friends then. Maybe some quarter-life crisis that led you to leave the country for a while. A self-discovery journey. Something non-concerning. Thailand?

Laying there with Lucy cuddled up to you, you can feel your eyes grow heavy. You didn't even notice how exhausted you are. With one last sigh your eyelids flutter shut and you doze off. Maybe when you open them the next time, this will all be over and you will wake up in your bed.

A knock rips you from your restless slumber, you've been tossing and turning on the mattress, waking up facing a totally different direction than you feel asleep in.

“We'll have dinner soon,” Hoseok's voice sounds through the door. “Come join us.”

Still a little out of it from your unplanned nap, you sit up, brushing through your hair with your fingers and rubbing your eyes. So you didn't magically teleport back home while you slept.

When you get up to walk to the dining room, Lucy hops down from the bed to follow you. The smell of something hearty draws you closer quickly - it must be some kind of stew or soup that’s cooking in the kitchen. You’re not really hungry thanks to the kimchi fried rice from earlier but the aroma surely whets your appetite.

“What's cookin’ good lookin’?” you hear Jimin sing-song as he prances into the kitchen just as you walk up to the dining table and your newly assigned seat.

Lucy strides through the room like he owns the place and follows Jimin, apparently also drawn by the smell.

“Oh my god, who's this cutie? Where did you come from?” you hear Jeongguk squeal excitedly. Lucy answers him with loud meows, surely to get him to drop some food.

“Lucy, don't beg,” you call for your cat, walking up to the kitchen.

"It's yours?” Jeongguk asks, the excitement from a second ago gone from his face. Instead, he looks at you with a sour expression before stomping past you to the dining room.

“Is she moving in now or what?” he snarls, accusing eyes boring holes into Yoongi.

“What, you’d rather have us kick her out?” Jimin asks him in disbelief.

“Um, yeah?!”

“Sorry about him,” Jimin sheepishly shuffles up to you and pats your shoulder. “He surely doesn't mean it,” he adds while heavily side-eying Jeongguk.

Yoongi plants both hands on the dinner table before taking a seat, looking up at Jeongguk through the strands of his hair that have fallen over his eyes. “She didn’t choose to be here, relax. Now stop acting like a fucking brat and fix your god damn attitude.”

You're taken aback by Yoongi's stern words for Jeongguk, you didn't expect him to intervene like that. And somehow you are also turned on by it. Like, really turned on. To the point of feeling your panties moisten as you watch him brush the hair out of his face. This whole thing must be really messing with your head. You were so annoyed by that gesture just a few hours ago and now you have to stop yourself from jumping him.

“How about you get back to cooking, Gguk?” Hoseok interrupts the heated moment. "I'm basically starving."

It seems like Jeongguk wants to keep bitching, more provocation already on the tip of his tongue, but then he apparently decides against it, as his shoulders slump down in defeat and he retreats to the stove, Lucy following closely behind. Yoongi's eyes track him leaving the room before he leans back in his chair at the head of the table sighing.

You slide into your designated seat next to him and mutter a quiet “Thanks”, that he definitely hears but doesn't acknowledge.

“I um,” you clear your throat. “I’m actually not that hungry, so if you want, I could go to my room, so Jeongguk can cool off for a bit?”

“Nonsense,” Jimin says from his spot at the table. “He will deal.”

Your offer was sincere but you are glad to stay, the heavenly smell of Jeongguk's cooking wafting over. Leaning back in your chair, you glance through the doorway and see him crouching next to Lucy, scratching his head. At least he’s nice to someone.

A few minutes later, Jeongguk returns with a big steaming pot of stew and sets it in the middle of the table. Taehyung had already brought in a dish of rice to go with it.

Before you can argue, Yoongi grabs the bowl in front of you and serves you some of the soup.

“Well,” he raises an eyebrow at you when you just stare at the food in front of you. “Dig in.”

“Yeah, noona,” Jeongguk teases you with a mean smirk. “Go ahead. I swear I didn't poison it.”

You didn't think he did, but after he said it, you wonder if maybe you should have worried about it, looking around the table until you lock eyes with Yoongi.

He just rolls his eyes, with a half-smirk. “He wouldn’t dare.”

The others start eating so you do the same.

Only Jimin is poking around his bowl, never really picking anything up. Maybe he doesn't like pork. Which seems to offend Jeongguk as he’s glaring at Jimin from across the table.

“Okay so,” Namjoon mumbles mid bite. “I’m sure you came up with more things to ask? Because we also have some rules to put down with you being here and all.”

“I don’t think there’s enough time for all the questions I have, to be honest,” you tell him. “I guess I’ll make a list. There’s one thing though. Who’s room did I move into? I was wondering why you had a guest room but someone mentioned earlier I can take ‘Jin’s’ chair. So I assume that it was his? Will he be back eventually?”

Namjoon clears his throat. “Oh, yeah, um it was Jin’s. He’s one of us but he… he’s gone. You could say he’s watching over us from above now.”

Oh no.

Suddenly, Hoseok gets out of his seat, mumbling a choked up apology to the group and hurries out of the room.

Shit, you shouldn't have brought up Jin. But how were you supposed to know he died? “I’m so sorry,” you call after Hoseok. “My condolences.”

“Wha- no!” Jimin shakes his head. “He’s not dead. He’s back on earth, living his best life.”

You whip around to face Namjoon. “Well, you really could have worded this differently then!”

“Great, now you upset Hobi,” Jeongguk scoffs but shuts up immediately when Yoongi shoots him a warning look.

He's right though. For once.

“I didn't mean to, I'm sorry. But, I have to ask. How come all of you stay down here if you could just live on earth?”

“We can't,” Jeongguk chuckles bitterly.

“Yeah, that's a bit of a longer story. Maybe one for another day. It's kind of a lucky coincidence though that we have a spare bedroom you can use,” Namjoon changes the topic.

“If we didn't have one, you could have just stayed in mine. No problem,” Taehyung smiles at you and you are unsure on how to take this.

“Orrrr,” Namjoon glares at him for the dumb comment. “We could have just conjured up an additional one, you know, with the powers that Yoongi has?”

“Chill, I didn’t mean it like that,” Taehyung spits back. “You know I don’t like sleeping alone.”

“Yes, I’m painfully aware of that. But she isn't. Don't make her think we're total perverts."

Taehyung chuckles and shrugs his shoulders. “Don’t make her think we aren’t.”

You choke on your stew so bad that Jimin gets up to slap your back.

“Relax,” he laughs.

“While we're on the topic of your room,” Namjoon starts up again. “I think Hoseok mentioned it to you already, but emotions are really heightened down here. Maybe you have figured this out already. Anyway, it would be best if you stayed in your room at night, by yourself. And during the day too maybe, until you’ve grown accustomed to it.”

“What, are you scared I'm going to get into a fist fight with Jeongguk?” you joke.

“Um, no, but is that something I have to worry about as well?” Namjoon looks sincerely troubled by the idea. “When I say heightened emotions, that also includes… arousal. That one’s actually the strongest for unknown reasons.”

“He’s trying to say that hell makes everyone unreasonably horny,” Jimin smirks. “The first few months of us all being here were beyond crazy.”

“Yes, you can also word it like that I guess. Like the other emotions, we got a better grip on it over time. But with you being here now, I don't really know what to expect. We usually don't have visitors. And I also don't know how heavily this affects you. Since you’re still human and all. I haven’t concluded my research on it yet, but I am pretty sure you’re not immune to it,” Namjoon babbles on.

“I like to call it the horn from hell,” Taehyung chuckles to himself.

Is this some kind of joke? Are you hearing this correctly? You turn to the others and when your gaze lands on Yoongi, he’s immediately looking away but you can tell that his cheeks are flushed.

Now that you think back to the past hours and the emotional rollercoaster you went through, it does make more sense than you just randomly getting horny during the weirdest traumatic event of your entire existence.

“So yeah, until we figure out how to handle… this… please just stay in your room as much as you can,” Namjoon concludes the topic. “At least for now, and, tonight.”

So they knew you were horny the entire time? This is mortifying. Maybe you will stay in your room for the rest of eternity actually.

“I guess dinner’s done then. Jimin and I will do the dishes and then we can all hop into the shower,” Taehyung chimes.

“Can you wash my hair tonight?” Jimin gleefully addresses Yoongi now, who just sighs but nods at the same time.

“I’ll get Hoseok then,” Namjoon announces and stands up.

“Huh?” you can’t hide your confusion. Is your room the only one with an en-suite? They surely can't all fit into one bathroom?

Jeongguk just looks at you like you’re stupid, but his mouth is pulled into an amused smirk.

“Do I… want to know?” you carefully ask.

Yoongi sighs again but finally lifts his head to look at you. “Yeah, we wash up together. Didn’t start out with a whole mansion. It was more like a shitty dorm when we were still trainee demons. With bunk beds and communal showers.”

“Had to work our way up to individual rooms and Yoongi didn’t have his powers yet,” Namjoon explains further.

“And once we all had our own bathrooms we realised pretty soon that we miss showering together. So we kept the communal showers downstairs and use it most nights,” Jimin adds.

“It’s nice,” Taehyung says. “You can join if you want to.”

“Taehyung please,” Namjoon groans and swats the back of his head as he’s leaving the dining room.

You find yourself intrigued, actively trying to stop the picture of all of them together, naked and wet, from popping into your head, actually considering agreeing with Taehyung for a moment. Okay, this horn from hell really is a force to be reckoned with. “Maybe another time,” you joke and they all stare at you.

“Please, just go to your room,” Yoongi tells you, facing away, as he stands up with one hand rubbing his neck. “Now.”

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A/n: omg karen you can't just ask people why they're korean.. Thank you for reading :) How'd you like hell? Interaction in any form is highly appreciated, we'd be so happy to receive your feedback and if you're shy, feel free to send us an anonymous ask.

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