when you're hired to design and style bts' anticipated comeback, you discover the members' powers goes far beyond their lives as influential idols...
ft. demon!min yoongi x f!reader: saja boys!au, stylist!reader, demonic elements, angst/dark romance, more warnings to come
w/c: 1.4k
---
Your heart skips a beat as the elevator dings, bringing you to your destination: floor seven of the most successful music company in South Korea and home to the renowned boy band BTS. It’s all glass walls, vaulted ceilings, and shiny marble floors. The building reeks of fame.
Time is money, you remind yourself, hurrying your pace down the hall to find the meeting room. Today is your first -- and potentially last -- day on the job, so you intend to make the most of it. The management sought you out on their own, impressed by your previous work with Selene, an indie singer-songwriter who rose to stardom after a hit song. You’d been her stylist, the collaboration built on an acquaintance made in art school years ago. It was your visual concept behind her MV that put you on the map. Brands, magazines, and celebrities were desperate for access to your cutting-edge ideas, something that was just as much of a curse as it was a blessing.
Still, turning down BTS would’ve been out of the question.
You’re just about to reach the meeting room when you hear an echoing melody of voices to your right. It stops you dead in your tracks, your heart skipping a beat once more. Approaching the door, you peek through the small window pane that gives you a glimpse inside. BTS are seated casually on high stools with sheet music propped in front of them. Their vocal teacher is watching, head lulling side to side with the tune, entranced by the same melody that seems to be drawing you closer -- demanding you closer. Before you can stop yourself, you reach for the doorknob and take a step. The air is heavy as you enter, their capellas whispering sweet words like those of a lullaby.
Your eyes drag across each member as they take turns singing, until your gaze stops on him. Yoongi inhales sharply before he begins the rap verse. It’s a song you’ve never heard -- probably unreleased -- but there’s a sense of familiarity in it, like he’s reciting something from a dream you forgot. It’s harsh and cold, sending a shiver up your spine.
What am I doing here? you think, cheeks warming with embarrassment. This is a complete invasion of privacy.
When you glance around at the staff, you’re relieved to see none of them have noticed your presence. They’re all consumed by watching the idols sing, as if they couldn’t bear to look away. You take advantage of the distraction to slowly step backward, hoping to make it to the door before the last verse. You reach blindly for the knob, finally turning to twist and shove it open. Even in your haste, you spare one last look and regret it instantly when that same cold shiver rolls through you. Yoongi’s eyes are dead set on yours. His smirk makes it clear he’s caught you.
You don’t waste another second, practically stumbling over your own feet as you rush out.
How could that be my first impression? You sigh in disbelief over your stupidity as you reroute back to the meeting room, glancing down at your watch as you do. There are only a few minutes left to sit down and organize your presentation. Silent curses echo in your head as you find a seat at the large table, setting down your tablet and organizing the files in front of you.
Groups are entering now, tailed by executives, choreographers, directors, music producers, and all of the rest. And then you see them. BTS enters one by one, and the entire room falls silent. Everyone’s heads instinctively bow, as if in a show of reverence. That thick tension from the rehearsal room returns.
RM nods at one of the managers across the table. “Begin,” he states, simply.
The man jumps to his feet, as if prodded by an electric current. He consults the producers and choreographers for updates on the comeback preparations and they go down the line, giving concise summaries of their accomplishments and the final tasks that need finishing. Each stops and stares at the idols, awaiting their validation. All they get are basic responses from RM: “good,” “continue,” or “that’s enough.”
Your pulse flutters when you realize you’re next. With sweaty hands, you swipe through your tablet, preparing to broadcast your visual aids onto the large screen at the front of the room. The stylist to your left finishes their presentation -- a slideshow of boyish, pastel garments from a recent spring collection. The idols grimace through it. You can tell RM especially is displeased when he replies with a mere “okay,” and moves his gaze to you.
Now. This is it.
You take a deep breath and stand, straightening yourself and projecting your images onto the screen.
After a brief introduction, you begin swiping through the slides: couture pieces and collages of aesthetics that you’ve tirelessly sourced for your original concept. The pitch could heavily sway the direction of their wardrobe for the entire comeback -- music video, promotional photoshoots, even the M! Countdown and Inkigayo stage costumes. Everything is riding on this moment.
When you reach the last slide, your eyes scan the faces of the creative directors and executives, checking for any sign of displeasure or engagement. Before they can express their thoughts, you’re interrupted by a deep voice.
“This is it. This is the one,” Yoongi decides, his tone finite.
You turn to look at him, finding him nodding at the screen. Almost instantly, the management mimics the motion, and the creative directors quickly follow suit.
An executive confirms his decision, telling you, “You will be the lead stylist for this comeback.”
You bow to each idol with a humble thanks, your eyes landing on Yoongi last. Goosebumps rise on your arms. He’s completely unreadable. His dark hair falls just around his eyes, a sharp contrast to his pale skin. You’re grateful for the opportunity to descend back into your seat. It seems your poor first impression hadn’t had too much of an effect on him.
The meeting ends when RM stands, gives a short “thank you,” and heads to the door. The rest of the group follows neatly behind him. No one makes a sound until the door shuts, and then everyone rises at once, gathering their things to leave. You can’t help but sit there, stunned, as you watch them leave. In all of your time in the industry, you had never seen a company hierarchy like this. Were the idols really superior to their executives? And the way their every word was the final say… Something about it was so strange.
You decide to chalk it up to the group’s financial success and global fame. They did put the company on the map, after all.
You’re the last to collect your things and head out the door, only to find a surprising figure standing right outside, almost as if he’d been waiting for you to appear.
“Y/N,” Yoongi says, standing in the middle of the hall to block your path.
His hands are in his pocket, his eyes reflecting their nonchalance as they scan you upward, finally landing on your face. You feel like you’re being examined, like he sees right through you. You instinctively clutch your bag closer to your body as you wait for him to say something. Maybe he’ll scold you for walking in on their rehearsal unannounced -- or make a comment about his preferences for the wardrobe. But a moment passes and he’s still just staring, quiet.
“Thank you for choosing me,” you blurt out, bowing again and hoping to break the silence.
“Do we know each other?” he suddenly asks.
A flash of confusion crosses your face as you straighten, hesitating for a moment.
“Uh- no. It’s my first day,” you awkwardly reply, glancing around the hall to make sure he’s not addressing someone else. “Maybe you saw me in that interview with Vogue: Korea? When I dressed Selene?”
Another bout of silence hangs in the air, his expression still unreadable as you wait for any indication of his acknowledgement. His eyes finally flicker away from your face as he glances toward the empty wall on your left. His nostrils flare in a deep inhale before he nods. You try to speak again, to thank him, but he turns suddenly on his feet and walks down the hall. He’s already in the elevator by the time you blink and exhale.
summary - You're left reeling after a demon attacks during a concert, taking one of your groupmates without a trace. Determined to get her back, you begin hunting the creature — only to cross paths with a demon sent to stop it. As an uneasy alliance deepens, the line between hunter, monster, and memory begins to blur.
pairing - min yoongi x reader
genre / warnings - kpop demon hunters! au , demon!yoongi , angst
word count - 4.9k+
The sun hung low over the Seoul skyline. If you opened your ears just enough, you could hear the sounds of fan chants floating up from the stadium. Sound check was an hour ago, and go-time was nearing with fervor. The greenroom buzzed under the fluorescent lights, too bright and concentrated in numbers. Staff scurried around the four of you, brushing curls and spraying glitter. But you could feel it in your bones-- something was off.
For a sold-out summer stage, the vibe should’ve been electric. Instead, you waited in a haze.
Jihyo had taught you from a young age to trust instinct. Never second-guess. Second-guessing got hunters killed. Second-guessing threatened the Honmoon. But it was just you, you told yourself. The other girls hadn’t mentioned anything strange yet.
Mina was humming again, the same hook and ending verse from your encore song “STAR.” Fingers tapped the beat on her thigh as her stylists touched up her makeup. Purple glittery eyeshadow to match her outfit. Black hair with purple money pieces styled to perfection in a long braid.
“Stage in twenty,” Chen called out-- your manager. But you didn’t move. Your eyes were fixed on the ceiling vent, where airflow curled unnaturally. Wrong tempo, your instincts whispered. Wrong sound.
You stood up, hand drifting unconsciously towards your jacket pocket-- fingertips kissing the ward charm sewn beneath your mic pack. It felt hot.
Too hot.
And too hot typically meant things that were supposed to stay below the shield had drifted too far up for your liking.
“You guys hear that crowd?” Mina grinned, “That’s the sound of people ready to worship.”
“They’re ready to see me, as usual,” Joy replied, mouth full of noodles.
“Stop blowing smoke up your ass, Joy,” Yuqi laughed as she pulled a brush through her honeyed hair and adjusted her yellow stage outfit. “I’m just manifesting zero falls tonight.”
“You fell in rehearsal this morning,” you point out.
“That was a spiritual reset.”
Mina rolled her eyes as she walked up to you and started braiding a strand of your hair without asking. So very Mina of her. “You’re doing that storm cloud face again. You good?”
“Just focused,” you answer. “Something feels…”
“Off? Yeah, you always say that before we win something or do a big show. You’re just sensing success.”
“Yeah, if you ever didn’t sense doom before a show, I’d think you were possessed.” Joy adds, blue bob bouncing as she laughs.
“Your vibe is kind of haunted shrine girl with trauma and anger,” Yuqi jabs.
“She’s our haunted shrine girl, though,” Mina smirks.
“You guys are the worst,” you told them, smiling a little at the teasing.
“And you’re our anchor,” Mina replies softly, tugging the braid to tighten it. “You ready?”
“As I’ll ever be.”
Mina smiled and led you towards the stairs near the back of the stage. You were still shrouded by canopies and curtains. Safe from the view of eager fans.
“All right,” you breathed, holding out a pinkie. They gathered around you at the base of the stairs, pinkies held out and linking around yours.
“No matter what?” Yuqi whispered.
“No matter what,” Mina nodded.
“We slay. We survive. We selfie after.” Joy grinned.
“We come back whole.” You added, pressing your foreheads together with the others over your interlocked pinkies.
Just for one breath, one beat.
“VENOM, five-minute call to stage.”
You broke apart like lightning. Confident, loud, and shining.
▬▬ι═══════ﺤ
Mina flipped her ponytail next to you, sliding into the center, and smirked at the camera.
“We don’t chase, we conquer
Crown built from bruises
Hella bad, Hella loud, Hella ruthless.”
The LED screen behind you glitched for a half-beat, and no one noticed. Except you. You felt the flame at your palm twitch mid-spin-- blade begging to be summoned.
Yuqi and Joy flanked your left and right, strobe lights bouncing off glittered eyes. You landed your mark dead center, fire crackling at your heels from a pyrotechnic cue.
“Venom in our veins, bite back when we bleed.”
The crowd screamed, but it felt too sharp, like it was peaking in your skull.
Mina took a solo walk forward, spotlights converging. She lifted the mic with another smirk, camera catching glistening eyes. She always nails the moment.
“Heard ‘em say we’re cursed, but baby, look at me now.”
The roar of the crowd was deafening-- tens of thousands chanting your names. The LED screen pulsed with blood-red visuals. Flames shot from cannons on the corners of the stage as your group struck the final chorus of STAR.
Your body moved on instinct. Every step was sharp and deadly-- years of choreography drilled into muscle memory. But something was still wrong. The bass felt off-beat. Your earpiece hissed with quiet static that didn’t match the music. Your gut twisted.
And behind you, in the sea of backup dancers, someone wasn’t dancing.
They were watching. You caught it midturn. A figure in the wrong outfit, head cocked too far, smile stretching too wide. It didn’t move with the beat. It absorbed it.
You broke formation, ignoring the wide eyes of Yuqi, Joy, and Mina.
You turned to face behind the stage.
“Kill the track,” you ordered, voice cutting through the in-ear. “Now.”
Music screeched to a halt. Confused cheers. Then silence.
Joy stood frozen, mid-pose. Mina turned towards you again in confusion. Yuqi blinked in disbelief.
You let go of your mic, walking up to the others when they followed suit.
“What are you doing?” Joy hissed.
“Something’s here,” you told them, motioning with your head towards the backup dancers as the crowd started to rise in shocked volume.
“What is that? Is that a demon? They never look so--”
“Human?” You offer Yuqi. “We need to get going. This doesn’t feel good.”
Mina and Joy nod after Yuqi, following your strut behind the stage.
The crew scrambled, and you ignored Chen’s raised voice and concerned questions.
“Just cancel the show, Chen,” Yuqi called behind you, “offer to give them their money back, I don’t know. We can bite the bullet on this loss.”
Headsets crackled around you as staff tried to make sense of the sudden cutoff. Security swarmed. Fans were filtering out, likely mumbling rumors, but the danger shifted-- it was already behind the curtains, too.
You dragged the girls into a nearby hallway leading to the dressing room.
“I saw it. I-- I didn’t think it was real. Thought it was the lights playing tricks,” Yuqi whispers.
“You think something’s here for us?” Mina gasped.
“Okay, seriously, this is insane,” Joy snapped, “you’re scaring her. You’re scaring me.”
That’s when the lights flickered.
“It’s here,” Yuqi mumbled, stepping back towards Joy.
Mina stopped walking. She turned slowly, like she had heard something.
“Do you hear that?”
You didn’t answer, just bloomed your blade from your open palm. It ran long and sharp. Red blade with a black handle.
Yuqi gasped, summoning her yellow glaive as Joy pulled her blue bow. Across from you, Mina summoned her dagger. Small and purple. The temperature in the hallway plummeted. You raced back towards Mina, motioning for Yuqi and Joy to watch behind you.
“Mina, come on,” you told your youngest member, “it’s getting closer. I don’t want to stay out here for longer--”
A shadow peeled from the wall behind Mina. Inhuman. Its form pulsed like a corrupted music video-- glitching, flickering, limbs too long. Its voice was layered, broken, like someone playing three distorted tracks all in reverse.
“One of you opened the door. One of you shines.” It cooed, trailing long fingers across the hallway wall. “She sang so sweet,” it said. “But you stopped the song.”
It lunged, not for you, but for Mina.
You launched forward, shooting your blade out in front of you. It hit, sinking deep in part of the demon’s shoulder, but the thing laughed. It twisted its form, dark tendrils dragging across the floor, and slammed you against the hallway wall.
Mina screamed.
Yuqi tossed the glaive, just barely missing. Joy knocked an arrow, loosed it, and it sank into the demon’s middle, but still, it laughed.
You rose, shoving Mina behind you. “Stay back,” you told Mina, blade lighting up and flame flicking to life across the expanse of it.
“YN, it’s okay. I think I know it…” She whispered from behind you.
The demon didn’t attack again. It just looked at Mina. Then it smiled and vanished.
For a half second, you were sure it was over.
Then she swayed behind you, tried to catch herself on the lapel of your stage jacket. You turned-- too slow-- and caught a blur. Mina’s body arched backwards, her eyes wide on you. And then she was gone.
No scream. No burst. Just vanished. Like the air swallowed her whole.
The hallway was quiet. The spot where Mina had been was now empty-- not even her mic pack remained. Just a thin scorch mark on the floor, shaped like a clawed crescent moon, still faintly glowing.
You stared at it, unblinking. Your blade retreated, flame extinguished. Your hand trembled at your side.
Yuqi sank to the floor, fingers scrambling across it as if she could pull Mina from it with her bare hands. “She was right here. She-- she was grabbing your jacket. YN, she was right here!”
Joy was pacing, one hand buried in her hair, mascara smudged and streaking. “Where the hell is security?!”
No one answered because you knew the truth.
No security guard could’ve stopped what just happened. Nothing could explain it.
Mina wasn’t lost. She was taken. By one of them.
You dropped to your knees, staring at your palms like they’d betrayed you. You weren’t strong enough. Weren’t fast enough.
Again. Just like before.
“I was right there,” you whispered to the ground and the cracks in your hands. “I told her to stay behind me.”
Yuqi sobbed, rocking forward and hiding herself. “She said she knew it. She looked at it like she… like she remembered it.”
“That’s not possible,” Joy shook her head, “that thing was-- it was a demon, Yuqi.”
For a long moment, you all sat there. Frozen in time. The hallway lights flickered back to full power. Footsteps and shouts echoed in the distance. People were coming too late. Managers yelling about damage control, refusing to listen when Joy and Yuqi told them that Mina had stormed out-- had quit.
None of them saw her disappear into thin air like the three of you. Only you knew what was real.
▬▬ι═══════ﺤ
“We’re going to find her,” you told the others, huddled on the couches in the living room of your shared dorm in changes of clothes and makeup long since wiped away.
“How?!” Joy shouted. “She’s gone, YN. That thing ripped her out of reality. What do you think you’re going to do? Light a match and walk into hell?”
“If that’s what it takes.”
And you meant it. Because Mina wasn’t the first person you had lost to the darkness. But she’d be the last.
You stood up and walked towards the doorway of the shared room, face washed in blue monitor light from the TV on the wall. The scorch mark was blown up and enhanced from a photo you snapped before the staff swept the hallway clean. They hadn’t noticed it. Couldn’t see anything relating to the demon world below you, even now. You’d redrawn it five times already on notebook paper. Compared it with old symbols in books Jihyo had spared you from her days of guarding the Honmoon. It didn’t match anything.
Far as you could tell, whatever took Mina wasn’t supposed to exist.
Behind you, the sofa creaked. Yuqi looked at you, face puffy, hoodie sleeves pulled over her shaking hands. She padded across the floor and pulled you into a hug. “None of us has slept. We’re tired and we’re not thinking straight.”
“There’s no time to sleep.”
“There’s no time to break, either.”
“What are you hoping to find? That we just missed some hidden line in a demon index?” Joy asked. “That we can draw a summoning circle and she’ll pop out like nothing happened?”
“I’m trying to find out what it was.”
“And you’re trying to do it alone. That’s a problem.”
Yuqi let go, reached for your wrist. “Please don’t shut us out, not like this.”
Your voice cracked, “You didn’t see her face. Right before she was gone. She looked at me like she needed me to stop it.” You looked between the two of them, “I’m not going to lose another person. I can’t.”
“You think we don’t feel that?” Joy asked, voice shaking and sharp. “Mina was my sister, YN. We all lost her. You don’t get to own that.” She stepped closer, “But if you go running into whatever monster’s waiting for you without a plan-- without us-- you’re not saving her. You’re just trading places.”
“You can’t protect everyone all of the time,” Yuqi whispered.
“I can at least try.” You replied, grabbing your jacket and leaving the dorm.
Neither of them followed.
Seoul doesn’t feel like it knows what it lost. But you do.
Your hoodie is pulled tight over yourself, shielding you from people who might take notice, amongst other beings.
The city never slept, but at this hour, it did forget to blink.
Billboards still glowed with your faces, all four of them. Mina smiled down at you from the glass of a passing bus-advert, mid-dance, forever frozen in promotional lighting.
You kept your head low under your hood as the night swallowed you. No driver. No bodyguards. Just a palm held close, blade humming within you. Your feet moved without direction-- just instinct. An instinct that called you somewhere deeper.
You followed it past neon convenience stores and flickering subway entrances. Down graffiti-tagged alleys where the air buzzed like the low hum of a dead mic. You ducked through a broken side gate, a shortcut to the old performance lot beyond your old trainee building. It was condemned. Abandoned. Perfect.
Your blade flickered to life in your hand like a warning. Something was already there.
You rounded the corner, and there it was. The demon.
It wasn’t even hiding anymore.
It stood tall, glitching at the edges. Its body pulsed. Its mouth didn’t move, but the voice still reached you-- layered, backwards, too close to a familiar pitch.
“You followed the song.”
“You took her. Give her back,” you reply, steadying yourself.
It tilted its head, not confused, but amused. “She sang so well. I want to wear her voice.”
Your breath hitched, your blade blazed.
“Where is she?”
“She’s not here. She’s not yours. But you shine. Like he did.”
You stopped cold.
He.
Your brother?
“You’ve seen him?”
The demon glitched forward suddenly, one step and it was inches from you. No heat. No breath. Just void.
“He screamed in colors. You will, too.”
And then it struck.
You ducked and rolled, blade bursting from your palm and singeing the corner of the alley wall. The demon recoiled, not in pain -- in interest.
It flickered again, behind you this time. Grabbed your shoulder.
You screamed and threw your elbow back into what should have been solid-- but the demon’s form shattered like smoke, reappearing in front of you again, closer, crouched, studying you.
“You burn wrong. Wild. Lonely.”
“That’s why this is easy,” you hissed, swinging your blade.
It dodged, lunged. You dropped, skidded, and sent the blade swinging for its legs. It connected, the demon hissed, and staggered back. But it was smiling again. Even without a face. “She called for someone. Not you.”
Something in you broke. You ran straight for it, fire burning bright against your blade, screaming as you swung--
But it caught you.
One tendriled hand to your throat. Not crushing, but stilling. Your blade flickered and dimmed.
“Not yet.” It whispered, “You’re not ready.”
And then it disappeared.
You dropped to the pavement hard, coughing, blade sputtering out in your hands.
The alley was empty again. Silent. Your fists shook against the cracked asphalt. You punched the ground once. Twice. Then collapsed forward, cheek pressed to the cold stone.
“Where are you, Mina?” You sobbed, blade flickering alive one more time, weak and stubborn, pulsing in grief.
The demon was gone. So was Mina. Your breathing softened, came in shallow bursts that were nothing when held next to your previous choked sobs. The blade guttered weakly against the pavement, not quite dead but not fully alive.
For a terrifying second, you felt alone in the universe.
Until--
“You shouldn’t be here.”
A voice. Low. Rough-edged like gravel. Steady.
You spun up to your feet in an instant, blade reigniting fully in your hands. Your stance was wide, wild eyes locked on the figure standing just beyond the alley’s mouth.
Black jacket. Hands in pockets. His face was shadowed by the streetlight behind him. Still as the grave. If he were a civilian, you were screwed.
But the air around him moved. No wind. Just pressure. A subtle warping of space. Like something holding its breath.
“Who the hell are you?”
He stepped forward. Slow. Measured.
“Someone who’s trying to kill what you just fought.”
You blinked. “You’re too late. And you’re lying.”
“I’m not,” he replied flatly.
Your eyes narrowed. There were patterns on his skin. Not tattoos, not scars. Just beneath the surface. Flickering. Faint. Etchings of a demon.
“You’re not human.”
“No,” he replied.
“Then where’s Mina?”
A flash of confusion crossed his face, brief but real.
“Who?”
You stepped forward, furious. “Don’t screw with me-- Mina. The girl it took. The one it wanted. She’s the reason I’m standing here instead of watching sunrise rehearsals. You’re telling me you’re hunting this thing and you don’t even know who it took?”
“I’m not here for her. I’m here for it.”
“She’s not a footnote! She’s a person!”
“She’s gone,” he replied, voice clipped. “If I had her, you wouldn’t be standing.”
Silence. For a second.
Your chest heaved. You didn’t know if you wanted to fight him or scream or crumble.
But he stepped closer, his tone shifted, rough still but quieter. “I’m not here to lie to you. I don’t know your Mina. I don’t know your name. I only know that thing shouldn’t be here. Not in this city. Not in this world. If I don’t stop it soon, it won’t matter who it’s taken. It’ll take everything else, too.”
“So what, I’m just supposed to trust you?”
He shrugged slightly, “No. But you’re still standing. That means you’ve seen it and you didn’t die. Which means you’re useful. A useful hunter,” he chuckles.
That stung. You raised your blade again.
“I’m not useful. I’m angry.”
He stared at you for a moment, expression unreadable. “Good. Keep that. You’ll need it,” he said softly.
He turned, started walking back into the dark. But before he vanished around the corner-- “You can follow me or not. But if you want to see the demon again, I’m your best shot.”
And he was gone.
The blade in your hand pulsed once. Still burning. Still angry.
Some things you chase because you have no choice. You didn’t want to follow him. You hated looking at his stupid orange hair as you walked the abandoned alleyways in Seoul. You wanted to go back. To the dorm. To Yuqi and Joy. To the version of yourself that only sang about demons instead of tracking them through alley shadows and praying to find your missing best friend. You’d only killed a handful of them in your career as a hunter. But Jihyo warned you about this. As the Honmoon weakened, you’d have your hands full. The only fix was a song. And with Mina gone now…
You shake your head and eye the patterns littering his hands and neck as you follow him.
The city changed once you knew where to look. He didn’t follow the regular streets, he dipped into half-locked gates and subway tunnels no longer in use. Backstreets pulsing with old symbols carved into the brick, alleys that bent as he passed through them.
He never looked back until he stopped.
A quiet rooftop above a noodle shop. Just past dawn.
He leaned against a rusted ladder cage and waited.
You panted, “You walk like you’re trying to get away from something.”
“I am,” he responded flatly, eyes on you.
“Try again, then. You’re the one who told me to follow.”
He glanced at you, eyes dark but alert. Assessing.
“You’re stubborn. And slow. I didn’t think you’d be this slow.”
“I’ve just lost someone.”
“Everyone in your line of work eventually does.”
“You don’t know me. You don’t know any of us. What even are you?”
“Not the thing that took her,” he replies after a pause.
It should’ve calmed you, but it didn’t.
“I’m just here to get a job done: kill that thing and move on,” he adds.
“Well, if you want my help, you’re going to have to give me something.”
“Like?”
“Start with a name.”
Another silence. Longer, this time. You weren’t sure he’d answer. Maybe demons didn’t have names. Or maybe they did, and they were like spells-- dangerous if said out loud.
“Min Yoongi.”
He didn’t look at you when you said it. Just leaned back, watching the sky begin to shift from indigo to a sickly blue.
“That’s a normal name,” you reply incredulously.
“I was normal once,” he shrugs.
“What happened?”
“Nothing,” he replied, quiet and void of emotion.
“Are you going to help me get her back?”
“I don’t know if you can get her back.”
“But you’ll help me try?” You ask, eyes narrowing.
He paused, thinking. Then quietly:
“I’ll help burn down whatever’s in the way.”
You sigh and continue following him towards the Han River.
The paint peels off the walls of the abandoned club in front of you. A husk now. Windows shattered. A rusted sign above the door that used to say RED ROOM, now smeared with graffiti and black scorch marks. You slowed your steps and glanced at Yoongi, who moved with the same kind of awareness you used in rehearsals. Every muscle sensing shifts in energy. A trained motion.
“This place used to be open. We had a party here once.”
“It’s been closed five years,” he replies without looking.
“You talk like a coroner.”
“Same job, different clientele.”
You walked for a moment longer. A crow called from a rusted lamppost. The breeze shifted-- colder, sharper.
You watched him carefully. His eyes weren’t glowing. His hands didn’t end in inky tendrils. But his steps were too precise. Like he already knew where the scent trail led. You couldn’t help yourself. “How are you tracking it?”
He didn’t stop, but his hand slid into his pocket. He pulled out a thin shard of obsidian, etched with markings that whispered. The edges shimmered like oil slick under the early morning sky. “This,” he answered.
You leaned closer, examining. “It’s reacting.”
“Mm, to the bleed-through.”
“From that thing?”
He nodded, “When something crosses over from deep enough, it scars the space. Leaks behind residue. Emotion. Sound. Memory.”
“Like soul radiation.”
“Not a bad way to put it,” he smirked.
You reached the cracked curb outside of the club. The doors stood just barely ajar-- inside, it was pitch black. Cold. The kind of cold that sank beneath your skin like a cut.
Yoongi stopped, holding the obsidian in one hand, watching the lines begin to glow a purple-blue.
“It’s been here recently?”
“Very recently.”
“Is Mina still here?” You ask softly.
He finally looked at you from behind orange tresses. For once, his expression wasn’t unreadable. It was… cautious. Almost careful. “If it left her behind, you would’ve known.”
You clenched your jaw. “Let’s find what’s left, then.”
You stepped toward the door, but Yoongi’s arm shot out, not touching you, just barring your path.
“It wants you. Don’t get emotional in there.”
“She was my sister,” you snap.
“And she’s gone now,” he responds coldly. “Don’t give it anything it can use, okay?”
You didn’t answer, but you pulled your hood up, blade peeking out from your sleeve. Yoongi dropped his arm slowly, and you walked into the dark.
Inside the Red Room, nothing echoes right. Time stretched. Memories lied.
The moment you stepped in, the temperature dropped. Achingly familiar to the way it had before Mina was taken.
The air inside the club was too still. Stale. Not dusty, but dead. Like even the rot had gotten bored and left.
You could barely make out the shapes: long-forgotten booths, a shattered disco ball dangling from torn wires, a dancefloor stripped of light but not sound-- something low and distorted hummed beneath your feet, like music from under the earth.
Behind you, Yoongi said, “Stay close.”
But when you turned, he was gone.
“Yoongi?”
You spun in place. The doorway was gone. The walls were wrong, shifting like an unfinished sketch. Your blade stretched out fully from your sleeve now, desperate, pulsing, casting warped shadows.
Nothing answered.
Then-- a voice. Familiar. Distant. Twisted.
“You let her fall.”
Mina’s voice.
You whipped around. The club had changed. Now the walls were lined with mirrors. Warped and blackened at the edges. In each one, you saw a different version of yourself.
One holding Mina’s hand tight.
One screaming as the demon pulled her away.
One walks out without looking back.
“This isn’t real,” you spit through gritted teeth.
“Real enough to break you,” the demon voice called out, overlaid with Mina’s tone.
One mirror cracked down the center. Something moved behind it-- long fingers. A grin forming without features.
You swung deep.
It shattered. But the shards didn’t fall. They hovered in the air, spinning and reflecting your face back at you.
And the demon stepped through them.
Still formless. Shimmering like sunlight on water. But now wearing something closer to your world. Pieces of Mina’s silhouette. Glimpses of her hair. Her voice, half right. “She was easy to wear.”
Your blade flared hot, and your voice shook, “Give her back!”
The demon twitched its head, “Why? She was empty. Full of fear. Just like you.”
It lunged and you barely ducked in time.
A razor-sharp swipe cut across your upper arm, cold instead of hot. Like ice poisoning your veins. You rolled, blade gripped in both palms now, and aimed upwards in an arc.
But the blade sputtered against the air surrounding the demon. Like the air bent light. Resisted it. The demon was feeding on the place’s history and your emotions.
“She wanted to be special,” it whispered as it stepped towards you. “And so do you. But you’re only bright when someone else is dying.”
You screamed, fire pluming from your blade as you swung it again and again. The demon dodged and dodged, stepping back until it was stuck with its back to the nearest mirror. It smiled at you, and disappeared in a cloud of smoke.
You ran. Corridors shifted. The club stretched wrong again. Doors appeared, then blinked out of existence. You staggered through a hallway lined with glowing veins in the walls, like the building was a demon itself.
“Yoongi!” You called out, panting as you crossed another hallway.
No response. Then the demon’s voice, soft, mocking-- “He can’t hear you.”
“Mina!”
“You can’t have her back.”
You’re sent flying across the next hallway, air whooshing out of you as your back meets the wall. Your vision spins, lurches as you make yourself stand back up, sucking in empty gasps of air.
“Stop running.” It tells you, sickly sweet, as it materializes inches away from your face.
You sob, swinging your blade towards the demon. Missing. Your grief was getting in the way, but you were well past the point of reigning it in.
You fight hard and fast. Your strikes burn shallow wounds, but the demon adapts. Mimics your movements. Uses your own rhythm against you.
It grabs you again by the throat and slams you into the wall. “You burn so bright. What a perfect vessel you’d make.”
Fingers start phasing into your skin, like it’s testing the fit. Testing if your body could host it. It hums. The melody… One of your songs. Twisted. Slow. Unnatural.
“Tell the blade to sleep. Let me in.”
You can’t breathe. Your body convulses. Your mind starts to slip. And then…
The air shifts, hums with a low vibration like a sub-bass only your bones could hear.
The demon freezes.
Yoongi steps through shadow like it’s a curtain, eyes cold and voice emotionless.
“Hey,” he smirks, flicking his hand. The ground splits in a perfect line, a sharp crack of sound that sends the demon flying back. You drop to your knees, coughing, vision swimming. You look up and Yoongi moves like gravity doesn’t fully apply to him. Maybe it doesn’t. He doesn’t look back at you. Not yet.
The demon shrieks in corrupted feedback.
“Traitor.” It hisses.
Yoongi’s hand tightens into a fist, and the demon’s eyes go wide, its white irises and sclerae panicked as it feels his power.
“You reek of old blood,” Yoongi states.
Before he can finish it, the demon shattered into static and vanishes-- leaving behind nothing but the scorched slash on the floor again, like at the stadium.
You try to stand, blood trickling at the corner of your mouth.
“Who the hell are you, Yoongi?”
“I’m the one they sent to kill it. And if you’d stayed home like your friends wanted, you wouldn’t have almost died.”
“You really don’t know where Mina is, do you?”
“No. But I know that wasn’t her.”
You stare at each other. Enemies. Allies. You weren’t sure yet.
But one thing was certain: you couldn’t fight this thing alone.
yoongi's getting a lot of attention at the mall and y/n doesn't like it very much
➺ pairing; demon!yoongi x y/n
➺ genre; all of the usual demon!yoongi antics & a little more :-)
➺ wordcount; 1.8k
»»————- 🥨 ————-««
something is… off.
you can’t quite put your finger on it, but something is off and you can quite literally feel it in the air
“do you think navy blue washes me out?” jungkook holds a shirt up to show you before pursing his lips, waving his hand in your face when he doesn’t get a response from you, “helloooo-“ you guys came to the mall today to do some shopping but for the last ten minutes you’ve been distracted by something which isn’t helpful to jungkook because he values your opinion when it comes to his style!
“you look great in navy blue and that’s a good shirt for summer, linen is a great material-“ you hold a finger up, turning your head slightly, “do you hear giggling?”
jungkook frowns, shaking his head slightly before looking in the same direction you are, “…no. i just hear generic pop music coming out of a set of shitty speakers- hey, do you think these stores play these songs on purpose so that you’ll shop faster and leave faster?”
“uh-huh, gimme a sec, kook-“ you poke your tongue against the inside of your cheek before spinning around to face the exit, “where did you say yoongi went?”
“oh! he went to get some pretzel bites, i think.”
you weave in between the racks of clothes smoothly, your
your nose twitches as you pick up on the faint scent of yoongi’s cologne and cinnamon sugar (your favourite flavour for pretzel bites, of course) and you step out of the store, your eyes narrowing in suspicion when you spot yoongi heading in your direction
the black button-down he's got on hangs nicely on his frame and as he reaches up with his free hand to push his dark hair back, head tilting as a lopsided smirk makes its way onto his face when he spots you, “did you miss me so much that you had to come out and greet me? i was only gone for like ten minutes.”
you don’t respond, getting up on your tip toes to look over his shoulder only to notice that almost everyone is looking at yoongi, people pausing in the middle of what they’re doing to stare at him with lidded eyes and flushed cheeks
“what the hell…?” you don’t know how yoongi hasn’t noticed the fact that he has people drooling over him, and your face scrunches slightly when you see someone cross her legs and suck her bottom lip into her mouth as she stares at the back of yoongi’s head, “get a room-“
has it always been this bad???
how have you never noticed this???
maybe the reason why you never noticed all these things before is because you just had regular old human capabilities, but ever since you’ve been blessed (or cursed, however you want to see it) with some demonic abilities you’ve noticed a few things have changed about yourself: you can literally float (though, it only lasts a few seconds before gravity takes over), your eyes flicker black whenever you’re really upset, and all of your senses have heightened significantly — like today, you could hear the familiar purr of jungkook’s car from two miles away and he was more than surprised to see that he didn’t have to text you to get you and yoongi to come down like he usually does (you still haven’t broken the news to him that both you and yoongi are… not human, but you’ll get to it eventually)
“what’s wrong?” yoongi frowns, turning to glance over his shoulder, “what are you looking at?”
“people are… looking at you.” your jaw clenches slightly when another girl walks past the two of you, your ears picking up on the sound of blood rushing to her cheeks and her heart skipping a beat, “people are like- like, really looking at you.”
now, you’d like to clear things up and say that you’re not worried about yoongi running off to someone else because you know that yoongi loves you and also the two of you are literally bonded by blood or whatever — you know that yoongi is very attractive and most of the time you’re happy to walk around with him and have him admired by strangers but this is too much
this is like- well, to be honest, it looks like people are just about ready to pounce on yoongi at any given moment and now you feel like you need to defend him
in fact you’re pretty sure you heard someone growl at some point so now you’re wondering if the keys in your purse are going to work as a sufficient tool to ward people away
“of course they’re looking at me.” yoongi snorts, finding it amusing how flustered you’re starting to get, “they… i mean, not to toot my own horn here, baby, but i’m not lying when i say that everyone in this mall wants me to fuck the shit out of them, that’s kinda my whole thing, which, in my defense, you knew when we got together-" his eyebrows raise slightly when you whip your head back around to look at him, your eyebrows set in a glare as your eyes flicker black for a second
oh.
(he likes that.)
“well, i don’t like it.” you grumble, and yoongi knows you must be really upset because you haven’t attacked the cup of fresh pretzels he has in his hand and usually you’ve already popped like eight of them in your mouth
“you’re cute when you’re jealous. and you know i only have eyes for you, you’re being silly-” yoongi smiles, reaching down to pinch your chin in between his thumb and pointer finger to turn your head towards him, “hey, look at me- what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?”
“what’s going on-“ you smack his hand away (yoongi’s demonic charm isn’t as strong now that you’re not entirely human) “is that i think we should buy whatever we need and then go home before everyone starts chasing after you-“
“you know, there is a way to offset the pheromones, or, whatever you wanna call it.” yoongi kisses his teeth, tossing a pretzel up into the air and catching it with his mouth as he chews thoughtfully, “i don’t evphen know what it is. my aura? i don’t know. whatehver demon thing is happening-“ he swallows, “i usually just have to fuck someone. then it takes like thirty minutes before the pheromones come back and everyone’s pining after me again.”
there’s a brief moment of silence between the two of you and the corner of yoongi’s mouth twitches in a smirk when he notices your throat bob as you swallow
“…that’s really the only solution?” you ask suspiciously, “because you got a paper cut last week and you said your body will heal itself faster if you go down on me, which i’m still struggling to see the connection-“
“well that was very obviously a lie, y/n, i just wanted to bury my face in between your legs and you were like, too busy writing a paper but it makes sense in this case, doesn’t it? get some good sex outta my system and people won’t pay as much attention to me because the tension inside of me has been released.”
“hm. i… guess you have a point. and you swear people will stop for a little while if you have sex?”
“pinky promise. but, you know, we don’t have to do anything if you don’t want me bending you over in the dressing room. i know you like having privac-“ yoongi stops halfway through his sentence, his own eyebrows furrowing when he picks up on the fact that there’s a group of guys checking you out and almost instantly he feels jealousy swirling in his system
“-nice ass.”
he catches the end of a sentence and his eyes darken as he loops an arm around your waist and tugs you towards him, making direct eye contact with the group, “yeah, and you’re never gonna get your grimy fucking hands on it, you freaks-!” he calls out, and you don’t get much of a chance to say or do anything else before he’s dragging you down the opposite direction, setting the cup of pretzels down atop the garbage bin
“hey- where are we going?? jungkook’s still in the- okay, well, i don’t see why we had to abandon the pretzels, but fine-“
“what do you think? we’re finding a washroom and i’m fucking the shit out of you-"
“see, this is exactly what i was talking about!” you let out a laugh of disbelief at yoongi’s shift in mood as you let him drag you towards the washrooms, “and you had the gall to make fun of me for feeling some type of way about other people staring at you!”
»»————- 🥨 ————-««
(“oh, fuck- fuck me, fuck me-“ you whimper, head dipping as you grip onto both sides of the ceramic sink, your eyelids fluttering shut as yoongi slides a hand from your lower back up before grasping the back of your neck, shoving you downwards as he continues thrusting, very much enjoying the view of your ass bouncing off of him at this angle
“good girl- so fucking good for me, always so good-“ he growls, sweat glistening off his brow bone as he tangles his fingers in your hair, grabbing a fistful before yanking you back up to press your back against his chest, the back of your head slotting against the crook of his neck, “nuh-uh, i want you to watch me fuck you-“
your eyes immediately flicker down and you make eye contact with him in the mirror, your cheeks flushed and lips slick and swollen and god you look hot-
“you- you swear this is gonna- gonna work-" your eyebrows crinkle together as you let out a particularly high moan when yoongi’s hand slides down in between your legs, the tips of his fingers pressing into your sensitive clit
“of course it’s gonna work, my girl.” he grunts, flashing you a boyish grin in the mirror, “don’t you trust me?”)
🎙️ ask y/n and yoongi if they had a good time (talk to my characters!)
📚 why not explore the rest of the library while you're here? (go say hi to yoongi and y/n in la vie en bonsai!)
💫 or perhaps you want something shorter to read? (drabbles and mini series!)
🌟 or something even shorter? (teeny tidbits like this!)
➤ summary: Your best friend, Yoongi, warned you about using the Ouija Board, but did you listen? No.
➤ wc: 1.4k
➤ warnings: cursing, mentions of stealing your soul, mention of ghosts, use of a ouija board (i did a tiny bit of research but the vibes were off so if anything’s wrong it’s gonna have to be), otome game mention (obey me!), i think that’s it?
➤ date: June 24, 2021
“This thing better work if I’m risking being haunted by a ghost or some shit,” you mutter as you lay flat on the floor to look beneath your bed. Sure, Yoongi had tried to talk you out of buying the ouija board when you’d seen it online, but you both knew you were nothing but bad decisions. This was just another one… except this one was spicy.
Besides, how scary could a Sailor Moon Ouija board really be?
“Got it!” you cheer as you open the box, discarding it to the side after taking out its contents. The board itself was really pretty. How dangerous could it be? Honestly, you were only using it for shits and giggles, anyway. What the hell did Yoongi know?
“Here we go.” You inhale deeply, holding the planchette in both hands. You shut your eyes tight, murmuring a quick prayer—just in case—and ask your question. “Hello? Is someone there?”
You place the planchette on the board, holding your breath, but alas, nothing happens. You pout, what a ripoff.
A second later, however, the planchette moves to the word ‘yes’.
You scream, releasing the planchette.
What? The? Fuck?
Okay, so maybe this thing does work.
“Just for shits and giggles,” you remind yourself, a shit-eating grin on your lips. Yoongi would eat his words when he finds out this thing actually works. Now, let’s see if you can get an answer to your burning question.
You clear your throat, exhaling before biting your lip. Here goes nothing. “Does Min Yoongi have a crush on me?”
The planchette starts to move, but before you can have a look at the answer, a voice says, “You know, you could have just asked me? What are you even doing?”
You’re hearing things. You have to be! That voice sounded suspiciously like your best friend’s…
“It’s only for aesthetic purposes, Yoongi. I’m not actually gonna use it,” your best friend’s voice rings in your ears in a mocking tone that has you releasing the planchette as though scalded. “Top ten anime betrayals by Y/N L/N.”
“Yoongi!” You gasp, frightened. Your hand is over your chest, feeling the erratic pounding of your poor heart.
“Didn’t I tell you not to play with that?” Yoongi sighs heavily, eyes rolling as he sees you crouched over the board. He rips the planchette out of your hands, glaring at the pink object.
“I—how did you even get here?” You frown, avoiding his gaze after being chastised, but Yoongi notices your bemused tone. “It’s not like I summoned a demon or anything.”
You look up at him, your eyes then going to his hand that makes the planchette look tiny. Why did he have to have such beautiful hands?
“You think you didn’t summon a demon?” Yoongi cackles, his shoulders shaking. “You summoned me, Y/n.”
“Say what now?” your brows furrowed in confusion, blinking owlishly at Yoongi.
Yoongi sighs heavily, exasperated. “I’m a demon, duh.”
You laugh.
“Please, you’re a demon? Come on, you’re the sweetest person I know. You’re my little honey boy. How could you be a demon?” you sit up, groaning as your joints pop. “Now give me the planchette.”
“Give me that,” Yoongi grumbles, grabbing your board off the floor. He mutters something indecipherable to end your session and shoves the board back in its box. He grabs your pillowcase and wraps the planchette in it so it doesn’t touch the board.
“I wasn’t done!” you pout, stomping your foot like a petulant child. Yoongi rolls his eyes. “You’re done, and I’m taking this with me. You promised not to use it.”
“But-” Yoongi cuts you off with a glare that rattles your insides.
“You summoned me, Y/n. Now I have to take your soul.”
“M-my soul?”
“Yes, your soul. Didn’t I tell you not to play with this shit? Fucking Sailor Moon board still fucking works,” Yoongi utters, annoyed as he stares at the monstrosity. “This is going to be so much fucking paperwork.”
“Wait, don’t take my board!” you shout, trying to take it out of Yoongi’s hands. It’s a fruitless effort. Yoongi chuckles, admiring your determination, but you’ve lost your ouija board privileges.
“Nope. Go to bed, and give me that,” he huffs when you swipe the box from under his arm. You were feisty, he’d give you that.
“Yoongi.”
“Nope, it’s late. Go the fuck to sleep,” he sighs, ushering you to bed. You reluctantly climb in, cursing him as he tucks you in.
Once you’re settled, your eyes shut and your breathing evened out until you’re fast asleep. Yoongi shakes his head. What a pain in the ass. And for what? A stupid question you should already know the answer to?
“Waking me up for this foolishness. I was having a good dream too…” Yoongi says to himself as he leaves your home with your Sailor Moon board. “Aesthetic purposes my ass.”
“Oh! What an odd dream that was.” you yawn, stretching your arms over your head as you sit up. You rub your eyes, trying to rid yourself of any eye boogers when you startle.
“Wasn’t a dream.”
You scream.
“Again with the screaming,” Yoongi covers his sensitive ears, giving you a wry look.
“What are you doing here?!” you ask, frightened to see your best friend sitting on the opposite end of your bed with his feet kicked up on your bed.
“I had to pop in and make sure no other demons came to steal your soul after I left. You’re mine,” Yoongi grins, sticking his tongue out at you.
“Demons?” You ask, puzzled. “So… that wasn’t a dream last night?”
Yoongi shakes his head. “Sorry, buttercup. That wasn’t a dream.”
You crawl over to Yoongi, sticking your face right in his as you silently study him. He eyes you curiously, allowing you to search for whatever it is you’re looking for.
Your hand reaches out to touch his inky locks, patting his head before your fingers weave through the tresses. “Where are your horns?”
“Horns? HORNS?!” Yoongi guffaws, body shaking with laughter as he doubles over, clutching his stomach, and taking you with him. “Horns!”
“Yoongi,” you whine, scrambling from under him. You push him onto his stomach easily. He’s much more malleable when he’s cackling with laughter despite the heat rushing to your cheeks. It was a serious question.
You pat his butt, admiring the firmness and roundness. “Where’s your tail?”
“Tail?” Yoongi can’t breathe! He’s laughing too hard. His stomach is cramping and tears are rolling down his cheeks. He kicks his feet and you scoot to sit on his butt, straddling him. Your hands grip his t-shirt, tugging on it. “Stop laughing at me!”
“I c-can’t help it,” he giggles as he rolls over, grabbing your hips to steady you. You squeal in surprise, looking down at him. “What kind of demon do you think I am? Didn’t I tell you to quit playing the otome game? I don’t have horns or a tail, or wings like your little boyfriends do.”
You ignore his scoff. “Hey, don’t bring that up! My seven demon boyfriends would destroy you!”
“No, they really wouldn’t,” Yoongi cackles. His grip on you tightens as he shakes with another bout of laughter. You cross your arms over your chest, turning your head away from your cackling best friend-slash-crush.
“Quit laughing at me,” you huff. “It’s bad enough you took my board.”
“First of all, I told you not to buy it. Second, you swore you wouldn’t use it. And third, you used it for a dumb question, Y/n.”
“Hey, don’t be mean.” you shove his chest but he barely feels it. Has he always been this buff?
“I’m sorry,” he apologizes. “It wasn’t my intention to be mean. I just meant it was a dumb question because anyone can see I have a crush on you. You didn’t need to contact the nether world for that. I didn’t want another demon to come swooping in and take you from me.”
You smile, eyes glittering with smugness. “The Min Yoongi has a crush on me? I’ve really won at life, haven’t I?”
Yoongi chuckles, sitting up. His hands gently stroke your back, realizing how perfectly you fit in his arms. “You have.”
You smack his shoulder, “don’t be cocky.”
Yoongi smirks, holding back a laugh. “But so have I.”
You melt. Your heart races in your chest and it’s easy for Yoongi to hear it. He smiles, his hand cupping your face as he looks up at you. Your radiant beauty makes his heart skip a beat, and the warm, adoring smile you give him has his heart somersaulting. He could spend eternity admiring your beautiful face and never tire. He wants to hold you in his embrace for as long as you shall live… and maybe then he’ll steal your soul. With a gentle kiss to your lips, he seals the promise to himself.
thank you for reading! ♡ if you liked it, please let me know! 💌
Summary: One year later- You're a demon but an angel for your boyfriend, which includes giving him the best head he's ever had :) Part One here!
(A:N: I was gonna wait to post this BUT I DON'T WANT TO OK??? IT IS TOO HOT TO KEEP HIDDEN.)
masterlist.
"Sleepy?" Yoongi laughed, watching you shuffle out from the bedroom, trailing behind him lamely.
It was too early to be out of bed, the sun wasn't even up. Yoongi normally slept more than you- so why did you wake up to an empty bed?
You nodded sleepily, "Why'd you leave me?"
"Coffee," He said simply, smiling as you lifted the back of his shirt and stuffed yourself underneath, flattening yourself against the warm skin of his back.
Even being against him like this gave you energy, love seeping through his skin and into yours. You pulled his shirt over you so that he was stuck with you like this, wrapping your arms around his small waist securely. You let him tow you around the kitchen like that, waddling behind him.
"Are you hungry?" He asked, resting his hand over yours through his shirt. You shook your head, one hand snaking down to the waistband of his pants and dipping underneath it. You knew what he meant- were you hungry enough to sap energy from your boyfriend, as one did as a demon who fed off of energy?
He jumped slightly when your hand wrapped around the base of his soft cock, palm pressing into him as your fingertips fondled his balls lightly. His hips bucked back, pushing into your hips as he slammed a hand down on the kitchen countertop to steady himself, back hunching over. You could almost see his facial expression, eyes screwed closed in concentration, mouth hanging open slightly as he let out a shaky breath.
"Just horny," you smiled against his skin, laughing at how funny this must look from the distance, you still tucked under his shirt.
"W-We're in the kitchen, where we humans eat food- not our boyfriends, you know." He grunted, "Usually, normal people save horniness for the bedro- baby, oh my god. Yeah, k-keep going."
You smirked, continuing to work his cock as it plumped up under your touch, pressing a feathery kiss to his back.
"Well, I'm not human and you're not exactly normal for being in love with a demon," You said lightly, running your thumb over the head of his dick before curling your fist around it, squeezing with just enough pressure to make Yoongi whine. You liked him like this, desperate. "I wanna do nasty shit with you everywhere, all the time. Is that okay?"
Yoongi grunted, laughing softly at your own neediness, "How do you want my dick more when you're not hungry?"
That was you. Constantly wanting to be next to Yoongi, to talk to Yoongi, to make Yoongi laugh, to touch Yoongi. You weren't kidding when you said you'd get addicted to him. You even let other humans see you now, wanting him to be able to introduce you to his friends instead of constantly making excuses for why his girlfriend was so elusive.
You had been dating for over a year now and hadn't done anything vaguely demonic since that first night you slept with Yoongi, although Yoongi would claim that you did plenty of other things that were perfectly evil.
"Baby- I wanna see your face." He mumbled, reaching behind his back to touch your side softly.
"Oh, okay, sorry." You said sheepishly, slipping your hands out of his pants and detangling yourself from under his shirt. Yoongi spun around, grinning at the sight of your messy hair and sleepy eyes, clad in only an oversized shirt with a surprisingly innocent look on your face.
Yoongi liked you like this, sweet and sleepy. He did a good job of taking care of you, his sex drive high enough to feed you and then some. You rarely ever felt hungry anymore, able to focus on other things rather than constantly feeding yourself. You had learned more about yourself in the past year than you had in your entire life- turns out you really liked video games and baking.
Sure, you didn't really eat any of the stuff you made- but Yoongi's face when you brought him a cupcake was enough to make you satisfied. You looked up at him now, a small smile on your lips.
"Here's my face, " You offered lamely, looking up at him blankly. He laughed cupping your face in his hands and squishing your cheeks together. Your face felt warm where he touched you and you purred, letting him kiss you chastely before dragging his hands down your body.
"Cute face, pretty body." He mumbled, stopping his hands when they were at your hips and pulling you against him sharply, kissing you passionately. You keened into the kiss, moving your lips against his lazily. He tasted like coffee and you liked the slow drag of his tongue against yours, his movements almost predicting yours out of sheer practice.
You stood on yours toes to reach him easier, hands balled into fists and pinned against his chest, leaning into his body. Yoongi was good at everything but he was the best at loving you, knowing what you needed and giving you exactly that. You rocked your body against his, letting him slip his knee between your thighs and push up onto your cunt. Clit rubbing against the soft fabric of his pajama pants, you anchored yourself to Yoongi with a hand on each bicep, nails digging into the thick muscle there.
"Take what you need," He offered, voice soft and gentle. His sultry tone made you shiver, a hand on your hip pushing you back and forth against his toned thigh. You sighed contently, letting him guide your movements until you found your rhythm and he decided to release you in favor of leaning back to watch you, hooded eyes fixating on you.
He kept you there for a moment, letting you ride his thigh with complete focus on the short breaths leaving your lips and the blush on your cheeks. He loved you, so much. Your blunt honesty, your nativity when it came to most matters human. He didn't care that the hands gripping him had killed countless of people- not when they were equally as capable of loving him which the level of devotion you showed him endlessly. Your head spun quickly, spinning you out of control so rapidly you had to pull back from him, catching your breath for a moment.
"You okay?" He mumbled, brow furrowed.
"Yeah," You nodded softly, leaning your head against his chest. "Just- lots of feelings."
"Sorry," He blushed, knowing it was him pushing his love onto you that could overwhelm your system at times. You frowned and shook your head, angling your head back up to him to kiss him reassuringly. Yoongi breathed in slowly and dipped his head down, kissing the side of your neck slowly. You felt his tongue snake between his lips, teasing you before sinking his teeth down into your skin.
You swallowed harshly and dragged a hand to his arching erection, pushing your hand against him, "I want you in my mouth- want you to fuck my mouth."
"Yeah?" He mumbled against your skin, "Think you can handle it?"
"I can handle it." You urged, looking up at him with an eager face, "I swear, I can!"
He tilted his head towards you, smiling dubiously, "I dunno, remember what happened last time you had too much of me? You passed out."
You rolled your eyes and stomped your foot down on the ground, frowning at him petulantly, "It was only for a couple of seconds- I'll be fine. You don't wanna fuck my mouth?"
"Oh, I want to fuck your mouth," He assured, laughing softly. "But you were definitely out for like...a lot longer than a couple of seconds. I thought you died, lowkey."
"Don't be so full of yourself," You snapped, "I can't be killed that easily."
He looked resigned and you hummed in victorious satisfaction, sinking to your knees in front of him. You watched him back up so that his hips were resting on the edge of the kitchen countertop before making a noise of annoyance and pulled his hips forwards slightly by the waistband of his pants, pushing the elastic band along with his boxers down quickly with dark eyes. Soft, pale skin glows in the dimly lit dawn light, rubbed pink where your hands massaged soft circles. He spread his legs slightly to accommodate your figure before him, hands supporting his weight behind him, "Take it sl-Oh, my god."
His cocky smile disappeared as soon as you wrapped your lips around the head of his dick, running your tongue over it and pushing the tip of it into the slit there, wiggling slightly. You gripped the base of his shaft firmly in one hand and sunk down halfway before pulling off completely, running your tongue along the underside. You focused on all parts of him, wanting your boyfriend to be completely wet before you returned to sucking on the weeping head, aroused by the taste of him, by the slight thrusting of his hips. You could feel his cock pulse against your tongue, sinking down on his dick completely after a moment. You maintained a slow, deliberate pace before pulling off, breathing ragged. You stroke the base of his length that won't fit in your mouth, hollowing out your cheeks as you twisted the hand wrapped around with him in time.
"You like sucking my cock, don't you, pet?" Yoongi gritted out in a gravely tone. His voice was barely audible, pitch so low you almost missed it. Your eyes flicked up at him, relaxing your jaw to fully sink down at him, gagging slightly in the form of an answer- yes, you did like sucking his cock. Something about the taste of him, salty and creamy, the feeling of his silky skin thrusting into your mouth. The messiness, the filthy words Yoongi would say to you while you went down on him. You loved everything about it.
You dropped your body slightly, sitting on your heel more tightly to relieve your need for friction against your pussy. Yoongi threw his head back as your lips closed around one of his testicles, running your tongue over the velvety skin before sucking harshly. You waited until he looked like he was skirting the line between pleasure and pain, letting up for a moment before doing the same to the other ball. You released him with a 'pop', cock and balls shiny with your saliva- a job well done. You smiled with pride, knowing he liked things a little sloppy.
You replaced your mouth with your hand for a moment, flicking your eyes up to Yoongi. He looked gone already, hair a mess with one hand pushing it up uselessly, a distressed look on his face.
"You're such a fucking tease," He groaned, looking at you with a panicked expression.
You batted your eyes at him and tipped your head to the side, maintaining eye contact as your lips wrapped around the tip of his cock and sunk down completely. He groaned, hands shaking as you deepthroated him. When could felt his cock hit the back of your throat, you swallowed around him, relishing in the way Yoongi cried out, every surge of his hips letting off wet sounds, filling the air deliciously. You could feel your eyes water and ignored it like you did the way your vision was starting to black out slightly. It didn't matter, nothing else mattered except for Yoongi. Pushing through the haziness, you held your head down against his cock, massaging his shaft with your throat before pulling off completely, choking slightly as Yoongi pet the top of your head soothingly.
"Well, it's mine, isn't it?" You mumbled, after you had caught your breath, rubbing your lips against his dick. You smeared his precum against your plush lips, salty cream leaking freely from his cock. "I can do what I want with your cock, because it's mine to play with, right?"
"A-All yours, yeah." He groaned, throwing his head back. "Do what you want, I guess- as long as you let me skull fuck you right now."
You smiled happily and let him sink his hands into your hair, fisting it roughly before angling himself towards your mouth. You loosened your jaw and he thrust in sharply, keeping you in place as he fucked your mouth how he wanted. You shut your eyes and let him control you for a moment, relaxing completely. He let out a low growl and you flattened your tongue against his cock, humming so that the vibrations would stimulate him further.
He let out a satisfied moan and you chased after his high, hollowing your cheeks to accommodate him further. You reached between his legs to caress his balls, heavy and warm. You liked the sounds Yoongi made, the soft whines and pants signalling he was close. Your jaw was beginning to ache but you didn't give a shit, wanting Yoongi to cum down your throat more than anything.
You felt your cunt pulse around nothing, wishing there was two of Yoongi- one down your throat and one railing you from behind. You stared at him with wide eyes as he thrusts his cock into your mouth, flexing his fingers in your hair at the same pace as his hips pushed against your face. His large shaft dragged against your throat, pain spreading through your esophagus, warmth from his touch soothing it quickly. You still wanted more, tongue sliding against the underside of his cock. You jumped a little when he leaned back, angling his hips up and snapped them against your lips, restricting your airflow, pushing into your wet mouth particularly roughly.
"Jesus fuck- that tongue of yours is gonna kill me," Yoongi groaned, hands tangling into the strands of your hair, borderline painfully. "I'm gonna cum- are you swallowing? Please swallow."
You nodded shallowly, stopping his thrusts with a hand at his hips and resuming your own pace, sucking hard and squeezing his balls all at once. He jerked forwards, feeling sticky cum pour into your mouth and down your throat. Above you, Yoongi hissed in ecstasy, gripping your head roughly as he pins you against him, grinding up against you animalistically. It was salty and warm and you stilled for a moment to not waste a drop, swallowing around his cock. You flattened your tongue against his member in your mouth and wiggled, wanting as much cum as you could give him. The thick substance poured down your throat, sticky seed bathing your tongue. His cock pulsates uncontrollably, the slightly bitter taste anchoring you as you moan out in pleasure. Yoongi winced and tapped your shoulder lightly before he pulled out quickly, feeling overstimulated.
"Holy fuck," Yoongi breathed out, chest heaving as he caught his breath.
You sat back on your heels, swallowing again as you looked up at your boyfriend happily. "Satiated?" You asked, mirroring the words he had said to you the first time you slept together.
"Very," He nodded, panting slightly as he pulled up his pants. "Best way to start the day- are you okay?"
Yoongi helped you to your feet and lifted you onto the countertop, grabbing you a glass of water before coming to stand in between your knees, hands on either side of your hips. The cold surface of the countertop felt good against your hot skin, feeling like a cold compress to cool your fever. You chugged it happily, handing it back to him before letting Yoongi press his face into your chest, breathing in your scent.
"I didn't pass out," You cheered lightly, pulling your lips into a tight smile.
He laughed against your skin, sending warm vibrations through your body, "Don't fly too close to the sun there, Icarus."
You wrapped your arms around him and squeezed, breathing in the scent of the soap on his skin. He smelled so..human. It was a smell you hadn't gotten tired of yet. He smelled how sunshine felt, bright and clean. "Who cares," You mumbled to him, "You'll catch me even if I get too close, right?"
"Of course," He said immediately, "Forever."
Forever.
It was a promise he hadn't made the first night but instead waited until he was sure, until he could look you in the eyes and tell you directly- he wanted you and only you and he didn't care what problems came with loving a sinister being like yourself. He said he loved every part of you, including the demented parts, and asked nothing of you except for the sentiment to be returned. Which you agreed to- obviously.
"Forever," You mumbled against his lips, the room spinning faster. You were definitely about to pass out, definitely had overexerted yourself. There was only so much energy your body could handle before sending you into overdrive, usually resulting in you passing out until your system calmed down like you were a stupid little iPhone overheating in the sun.
You hated it, not being able to control yourself. Thankfully, Yoongi knew where to draw the line to protect you from your own greediness.
"Time for the little monster to relax," He mumbled, "We can do more later. Talk more later."
"I don't want to be away from you," You argued.
Yoongi smiled and helped you off the counter top, drifting away from you slightly, putting physical distance between you two intentionally to help you calm down.
"I'll be here," He assured, taking a sip of his coffee, "Forever, remember?"
⇢ summary: you’re just about ready to give up on life altogether; your love life is in ruins, you’ve lost your job, and your family couldn’t care less about you… and then you meet your blushing guardian angel, and maybe life isn’t so bad after all.
⇢ relationship: jeon jungkook/reader, min yoongi/reader.
⇢ warnings: mentions of depression, violence, vomiting. slightly nsfw toward the end.
previously | next
a/n: happy new year! I know it’s been quite a while (literally an entire year since I’ve updated) but I’ve had this chapter pretty much ready in my drafts and just hadn’t gotten around to finishing because. everything. regardless, I hope this sort of makes up for it. love you all! hope you’re doing well. also WOW I swear a lot in this one.
His hand on your neck is meant to silence any screams that might slip out. He applies the perfect pressure to avoid crushing anything vital (and just by the feel alone, you know he’s got quite an amount of strength to pull that off) while simultaneously stealing all your air and forcing you to cower in fear. You don’t have to be a rocket scientist to know this guy isn’t someone to be fucked with, and all you can think about is the fact that Jungkook is right outside and has no fucking clue what’s going on. The very thought fills you with dread.
“Then again, you’ve got someone helping you.” What once was just a particular, calculated press against your skin becomes a deliberate act of violence as he begins to choke you harshly. You know the pain of his grip might last for weeks, and that’s only if you don’t die in the next minute. “Just makes me wonder what’s so special about you.”
“Nothing!” You rasp out, clawing at his hand now in some weak attempt at breaking away. If you could make enough noise, enough commotion, surely someone-
-but the stranger has already stopped you quick. You aim to throw the door open or something but his free hand quickly apprehends you until you’re just a squirming mess on the verge of passing out. Even your legs are pressed firmly to the wall by his own body, holding you fast so that you can’t help letting a few tears fall. There was no doubt in your panicked mind that this was Seokjin, the angel who’d been trailing you from the shadows for what felt like centuries. His grand act of approaching you, something you’d dreamed up to be a major climactic brawl in a battlefield made for a spectacle, turns out to be so simple. Perhaps that’s what you got for thinking biblically. Why go through all the trouble when he could just squash the problem the minute a chance presented itself?
Now, all you can think is “I can’t die like this”. A sobering thought of pure contempt. Drowning in the river was preferable to this.
You muster what breath you can, eyes blazing, “How does it feel… being God’s lap dog?”
Seokjin is, funnily enough, stunned for a moment. All bravado slips through a teeny crack in his demeanor when you say that, and even though it’s a low blow, it’s also enough for you to thrust a semi-powerful kick to the dressing room door to make the entire thing shudder like an earthquake. That sound, coupled with your comment, makes Seokjin release you in a panic. You hear some gasps from outside, a few people inquiring if you’re alright. An employee sounds most worried amongst the voices. You’re just shy of swinging the door open and forcing Seokjin to be revealed or to disappear all at once, but then he’s grabbed the back of your collar as you scream in frustrated fury. Seconds later, you’re no longer in the dressing room anymore.
Instead, you fall flat on a rough, sandy surface. You’re overwhelmed with nausea, pain, and fear, so your whole body is struggling to pick up on the most important things outside of that, but you do realize quite fleetingly that it’s sweltering. It takes you a few seconds as you curl up on the ground to peek behind your hands that shield your face and discover that it’s blindingly bright where you are, almost like a…
For fuck’s sake. “Of all the places…” You whine with a sore throat, coughing right after from the strain.
Seokjin stands above you and uses his foot to kick you onto your back so that you’re staring up at him and the baby blue sky. His hair color plays against it in an unfittingly gentle contrast, “I thought we might need somewhere safer to discuss things. Oh, and speaking of discussion,” he waves a hand near you and you instinctively flinch back before you feel the pain in your throat subside. You wait a few seconds, but it seems whatever he’d just done had no effect on the rising bile in your throat, so you assume that’s something you’ll have to deal with on your own. What an ass. “Feel better?”
“Fuck you! Maybe if you hadn’t choked me out in the first place-”
“You’d have listened?”
“Maybe if you hadn’t hunted us down to kill us, we would have!”
Seokjin frowns, “I didn’t bring you here to talk about you and that boy, I brought you here to talk about you. I am only concerned with you.”
Whatever that entailed did not sound good in the slightest.
You scramble to your feet and immediately regret the movement as it makes you sick again. The more than 100 degree weather does nothing to fix that either, the sun beating down on you and bouncing off the dusty white sands directly into your eyes. You’re feeling something nasty rising up from your stomach, ready to projectile…
Just as the scene changes, you paint a Victorian rug with streaks of your vomit.
Seokjin immediately groans out loud, placing a rough hand at the back of your neck like one would grab the scruff of a kitten. You’re far too weak to protest, rubbing at your mouth with the back of your hand, so you let him toss you into a chair. The jerkiness of the action should have sent another eruption out of you, but you recognize the relief that has overwhelmed you from the touch of his hand. Had he fixed that too?
“Never the matter,” the angel growls, waving his hand and making the mess evaporate from the very fibers of the rug, “you’re all very fragile. I should have prepared you first.”
“How can you do all that…?” You couldn’t recall Jungkook or Jimin showing off any power like that, and whether it was because of Seokjin’s status or their modesty (and adherence to rules), you were unsure. Most likely both.
Instead of answering right away, Seokjin reaches forward a moving cart and you finally notice there’s a glass pitcher of water (hopefully) next to an array of empty glasses. You take the time he spends pouring some water for you to examine your surroundings.
It looks like a secret room in an old English manor house. The walls are painted a deep charcoal and with the absence of natural light, you could mistake it for the void. The only light that does exist is a strangely dim white light coming from the ceiling. What looks like a rather ornate shell of a skylight (sans the window to actually reveal, well, a sky), seems to hide said white light somewhere in it. It’s such a vague glow that you can’t pinpoint if it’s coming from a lightbulb or magic.
The rest of the room is just as ornate as the “skylight”, filled with deep oak bookshelves, golden artifacts, and shining decorations that already look like they cost more than your house. It doesn’t really matter the longer you think about it. All of it has to be an illusion… right?
A glass is placed into your hand and you break out of your thoughts to make eye contact with Seokjin. He hovers over you with narrowed eyes and when you look back at your surroundings again, you notice all the little decorations have disappeared. Why had he- “We can negotiate those bits of the deal later if you so wish.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” You ask, hesitant to drink the water despite how much the heat of the desert had made you crave it.
“Like I said before, I brought you here to discuss you. I’ve been watching you and lover boy for a while and it has become clear to me that you’ve been pulled along for quite the ride. I’m sure it’s all very daunting.”
“It wouldn’t have been so bad if you hadn’t shown up.”
“How much do you know about our Lord and Savior?”
It was tricky to say the least. You’d grown up on tales of him, an over-powered being of immense stature. No one could come close to him, not even the devil. However, you’d learned bits and pieces from Jungkook, Yoongi, and the others to the point where your ideas of the figure had become skewed. There was no linear understanding of him. You honestly had no idea, “Probably not enough.”
Seokjin huffs, taking a seat from across from you in a chair similar to yours. Crossing a leg over the other, the angel stares you down, “Do you know why I’m after you both?”
“You want to kill Jungkook. Because he committed your sin.”
“Jungkook is my main target, yes, but it wasn’t my sin. My sin was sullying myself with a demon. Jungkook’s sin was sullying you.”
You frown, “He did no such thing! You had a fucking child! Jungkook saved my life!”
“You mean to say he ruined it. You were supposed to be dead a long time ago.”
You’d known that much, Jungkook had told you already. Even if he hadn’t, that had always been the plan. “It was… it was my choice and I wanted it then, I admit it. But I was hurt. I was overwhelmed. I wanted it because I was scared there would be no reason to keep going.”
The angel angles a brow upwards, “And the fallen was that for you? A reason to keep going?”
“It was- it was a lot of things. I was reminded that I existed, and that there are people who can love me the right way,” frustrated at the situation, you glare at him, “what the fuck? Is this some fucking therapy session?”
He has the gall to smile, “God knows you need one. I’d like to be the one to get inside that mind of yours.”
Shit. What if you’d given him just the right information to use against you?
You snap your lips shut and sink back into your chair, bubbling with more dread. He notices your sudden resolve and appears to want to ease your worries, “I’m not doing this to break you. Unlike God, I find you, as a person, quite redeemable. A gentle, pained soul who fell victim to the perversion of her guardian angel. It’s all very sad.”
So God did think you were a lost cause. Jimin had been right after all. However, you don’t want to keep talking when you’re so close to getting the information you’ve been waiting for. It seems even Seokjin isn’t fazed by your silence, continuing on without missing a beat. “You see, usually these angel and human matters can be chalked up to the angel getting too big for their britches. They think they can change things like fate: God’s very flawless plan from the beginning. They are simply… glitches in the matrix, you could say? That’s where I come in. I make sure these issues are handled and that everything goes back to normal. You see, God loves his humans. Truly. He has a bit of a temper, but it’s justified, you know? He loves you all so very much that seeing you stray from a holy and righteous path is heartbreaking for him. He can only excuse so much.
“So he doesn’t. But… sometimes I help him. I change his mind. Even Jesus had to convince God not to blame his executioners. The big guy gets real impassioned about those he loves. It’s all part of the territory of being in heaven’s sovereignty,” at this, Seokjin shrugs, “you were an unfortunate casualty of it. However, I brought you here because I think that you could be saved. You’re simply confused. I’m sure I could convince God to rethink... his punishment for you.”
Your eyes widen, nearly dropping your glass, “He’d do that?”
The angel nods, pleased, “Of course! After all, he just wants you to repent. If you show that you will, well, I could put in a good word for you. He and I are very close.”
“But only for me.”
Seokjin’s smile dims some. He was so sure he’d had you on the hook just then, “Well… yes. There isn't much I can say about angels. Humans are born sinful, but angels are born knowing better. If they succumb to sin, I cannot do anything about that. But… if you feel that you’d be leaving Jungkook behind, and if that would cause you to feel guilty, I can assure you that that would be taken care of. Your memory of him would be wiped clean and you’d receive another guardian angel in an instant. You’d be granted everything you ever wanted. You’d be able to live out a new path of life contrary to the one your fallen so selfishly carved out for you.”
At this, you begin to frown deeper than you ever have. It’s not out of confusion but deep, deep understanding. Seokjin’s deal was asking you to sell Jungkook out and in return… he’d make you happy. You’d forget all about what had happened and carry on a new person, virtually safe. You could only assume that meant forgetting Yoongi too. Everything you’d accomplished so far would be rearranged until the you that you’d become would be so unfathomable you wouldn’t ever consider it.
What scares you the most is that you actually consider it.
This all could end right now and you’d get out alive, maybe all the ordinary people you knew would get out alive too. You’d be completely removed from the situation. You’d just have to forget Jungkook.
“You asked me how much I know about God,” you start, thumbs twiddling, and Seokjin perks up, “the stories humans told of him always kind of scared me. He’s so powerful… he knew everything before it was even created. Nothing can get past him. And yet, he let humans have free will and the right to choose what their path in life would be. That part always boggled my mind. God’s supposed to love us unconditionally, but if we don’t return the favor, we suffer eternally. It seemed like a pretty big plothole in the otherwise ‘flawless plan’ you claim he made.”
“Yes, well, it’s not God’s fault that Lucifer’s so conniving.”
“But it is. Isn’t it? God created him. Lucifer is the one who brought sin upon the world but God is the one that created him. If he knows everything, why make him in the first place? It’s a fallacy,” Seokjin’s eye twitches just a bit as you lean forward, “that God knows everything. Isn’t it? He wouldn’t be so stupid. He had no fucking clue what he’d made when he made Lucifer.”
“I’d watch your tone. God hears all.” The angel’s ominous reply is all that you need to hear. He doesn’t tell you that anything else you’ve said is false or not. Of course not. You know as well as he does that you’re spot on.
You’re so stunted by the arrogance of it all that you have to laugh, “Allegedly.”
In that same moment, the white light above begins to flicker. A distant rumbling sounds from somewhere and that fear you’d felt earlier comes back with a vengeance. Seokjin looks annoyed, if anything, “I only have so much time to sit here with you to chat.” He stands up and walks over to you, seizing you by the arm, “So I’m telling you now that you still have a chance. No one else has to die. Do me a solid and make that a reality.”
Did he really not want to kill you? He’d had so many chances to. Even now, he could just… what did you have that made him hesitate? “You think I believe that?”
The ground rumbles underneath you and then you fall through, Seokjin’s grip slipping off your arm… or maybe being pried off.
Where you land next isn’t as disorienting as the last few times, but it doesn’t feel any better to be ripped away again without so much as a warning. For a moment before you land, you halt, almost floating. Then your feet make contact with stone and then your knees follow under the sudden press of gravity. A quick look around tells you that Seokjin is nowhere to be seen… and that where you are looks vaguely familiar.
The stone continues up the walls to the ceiling, creating a naturally cold room that expands no more than the size of a restroom (no toilets in sight, however). The furthest edge of the room from you is completely dark, while the other is helped by a fire stretching from one long, narrow wall to the other. There is no wood crackling beneath it though, nor is there an actual controlled area for it to burn. Flames simply lick up the bottom of the wall as if commanded by magic. While the rest of your body feels chilly, the warmth of the fire keeps your head warm like a fever.
You lay crumpled up on your knees and hands, staring into the flames with the most bemused expression, wondering what to do now. You’re definitely not intent on travelling to the other side of the room in fear of being met with something sinister you can’t see, but the fire only illuminates so much of the place and there doesn’t seem to be a door in sight. If Seokjin wasn’t here, you doubted this was a place he wanted to be.
Maybe he was torturing you? Intending to keep you in a dark, scary room in order to break your resolve? You didn’t know the extent of power he was allowed to wield but this whole transportation thing was starting to get really annoying. You chance a meek, “Hello?”
Your voice doesn’t echo like you expect it to. It sounds like it’s right up against your face, like you’d spoken into a pillow, the sound eaten as soon as it came from your mouth. Where the hell were you?
“...not exact, okay?!”
You pick up on a voice to your right and turn over with such speed that you land on your ass. Some stones move on the narrow wall, and then the room is illuminated from an entirely different source of light. It takes you a few moments to gather your bearings as your eyes attempt to adjust. Voices are frantic and coming closer, you can hear that much. You pick up on one instantly, “Jungkook.”
Your voice is weak with relief just as he comes into view. He looks an absolute mess as he throws himself at your feet and wraps you up into a bone-crushing hug. The strength of his hug doesn’t even bother you as you cling back with just as much force, grateful tears beginning to gush out of your eyes. You didn’t realize until then just how terrified you’d been, really. It was always there underneath the surface, but something about Jungkook’s sudden presence makes the reality of it all hit much harder. He smells like your shampoo still.
After a couple of minutes in his embrace, you pull away to examine his face, “Are you okay?”
He laughs and the way his tears have clogged up his throat make it sound more like he’s choking, “Who cares about me? Are you?”
You smile, tucking some of his hair behind his ear, “Better. With you here. Where are we?”
“Limbo, hell’s limbo.”
You’re not sure what to say in response to that. After what you’d been through in the last… however long it’d been, that seems the most plausible to you. “Is that like purgatory?”
“No,” another voice speaks from above you and only then do you realize that Yoongi is here too. He looms over the both of you but his gaze is fixed heavy on your face, “purgatory is where the dead go on their way to heaven. This is where the living come on their way to hell. Was a hell of a ride trying to get your ass down here.”
“Yoongi…” You peel back from Jungkook and stand up, a little wobbly as you lean against the wall, “...thank you. How did you do it? The places Seokjin took me… I felt like we were in a dream.”
His upper lip ticks up in a snarl, “It was. The place where you were is a void, heaven’s version of limbo. It’s where angels bargain with humans on the edge of death to repent. It’s an open playing field for angels to present themselves to their humans without them having to be dead or breaking a rule… not like the latter really applies to Seokjin, though. It’s only as strong as your will to be there,” with that, Yoongi reaches toward you and brushes what feels like sand off your cheek, or perhaps he just meant to touch you to make sure you were really here with the way it lingered, “and that’s the only reason I could pull you out.”
It was a lot to digest. You still couldn’t totally understand how he’d pulled you from heaven’s limbo if he was a demon, but that was beside the point. Right now, you just wanted to get out of this creepy box of a room for good. And it seemed you would be getting your wish.
Another figure became clear to you through the doorway, though this figure looked much more intimidating than the two by your side. Dressed immaculately with a sly smile that felt strikingly familiar, a man makes his way into the room, pressing a hand to his chest and bowing his head to you, “He had my help too, of course. A pleasure to meet you (Name), I’ve heard very little about you.” The man holds out a hand to you and you can feel both Jungkook and Yoongi stiffen on either side of you, but neither makes a move to stop him. This had to be another demon, no doubt.
You take his hand and shake it firmly despite your nerves, “T-Thank you for your help as well. May I ask who you are?”
The man grins wider, “You can call me Lucifer. Are you hungry?”
An entire array of human food is set out before you but you don’t have much of a stomach to touch any of it, though Jungkook seems right at home as he fills up his own plate. You can only guess he’s enjoying the hell out of having so much food at his fingertips without having to pay for it.
You can hear his delighted sound effects from the left of you as you both sit on one side of a long table. Lucifer sits at the head of the table to the right of you, also refraining from really eating anything. Yoongi sits right across from you on the other side with an annoyed expression on his face, fingers tapping the heavy oak table top in a rhythm you can’t decipher. It couldn’t be any more awkward.
“No appetite?” Lucifer asks, pointing to the food. There’s meat and vegetables and cheeses that you know and don’t know but none of it seems particularly appetizing to you at the moment.
You shake your head, “No. Actually, I have a few questions I’d like to ask you.”
“Ah, bet you’re bursting.” He chuckles and takes a swig of something you think might be wine. “Go ahead. I’ll try to recap the last couple of days as well as I can.”
“Days?!” You don’t mean to yell, you really don’t (especially not at the king of hell, but-), “It’s been days?”
Jungkook stops chewing to give you a concerned look, “Of course… how long was it for you?”
“Barely… half an hour, maybe more? But not days.”
“Yes, well,” Lucifer sighs, tucking his hands together in front of himself, “time works much differently in heaven and hell than it does here. Especially for those who end up in heavenly limbo. It’s essentially cut off from the rest of the universe which makes it that much harder to track those who end up there. Seokjin was smart in bringing you there than somewhere else on earth.”
Your head is throbbing at this point. If days had gone by, you could only imagine how much had changed since you’d been gone… “So… what has happened since then?”
“Apparently quite a bit, seeing as I was a last resort.” Lucifer’s tone almost sounds irritated. Like a petulant child, he glares over at his son with an unspoken tension that you would like to delve into much, much later when the important things have been moved out of the way. “These boys have been pretty busy trying to get you back. But we are all eager to know what happened while you were with Seokjin.”
Jungkook places a gentle hand on top of your knee under the table. For whatever reason, you note that his grip feels stronger than you’d grown used to. You’d thought the hug was just because he missed you so much, but even this simple touch was- “He… he found me in the dressing room, cornered me there and told me he’d been trying to get me and Jungkook alone. Somewhere he could really do some damage.” You recite all that you readily remembered, some details slipping as you focus on Jungkook’s touch. Yoongi’s eyes never stop boring into you. “He said a lot. He… he said he wanted to give me a second chance.”
Lucifer raises a brow at you, “At…?”
“Life. He said that if I… if I ratted out Jungkook, he’d work things out with God to set my life back on track. Memories wiped, a new guardian angel, the works.” You can feel Jungkook stiffen next to you.
“And did you take him up on it?” Lucifer inquires.
“No! No, I would… I would never. But he was so insistent… It sounded like he really wanted me to say yes. I don’t think he was planning to betray me if I took him up on it either.”
Lucifer heaves a heavy sigh. Folding his hands underneath his chin, the king of hell spares a glance at Jungkook, “He’s got a thing for innocents: those he believes did no actual harm in a situation. He’s always been soft that way. He has more of an affinity for humans than I ever did, but I have more reason to loathe humans than he does, so I guess it’s understandable.”
“He did… mention that none of this was my fault.”
“Of course! You were only following the path life laid out for you. It was the fallen angel you have beside you that decided to shake things up, and aren’t you lucky he did? It doesn’t surprise me one bit that you’re still alive. You’ve done nothing but suffer the consequences, it seems, against your own will.”
“But what about the demon he fell for? Or his child? Weren’t they killed so he could keep his spot in heaven?”
Lucifer leans forward, “I’m assuming your friends haven’t made it known to you yet, but they aren’t dead. They are both very much alive. In fact, the child in question was one of the people that helped in tracking you down. The mother… she is here, in hell, meant to stay imprisoned for all eternity. Or at least until the rapture,” with that, Lucifer drinks again, maintaining eye contact with your shocked stare, “but it was best that no one knew of their whereabouts. Only a handful of people even know that Inhui still exists. It’s become something of a legend amongst the demons and angels, shrouded in confusion. None of the angels would care for the mother, but the child would start an earthly war if they knew one still walked the earth. As far as they’re concerned, the child probably died from the natural complications of being an abomination.”
You frown, “How is that possible? An angel for every human on earth… that’s billions of angels and no one has even noticed the guy?”
“I was wondering about that, actually. He told us that he’d been walking the earth for a while now. Surely someone would have taken notice, right?” Jungkook speaks next, having abandoned his food entirely.
Yoongi snaps out of his bored stance, “Tae’s an anomaly. He’s forgotten everywhere he goes. His impression barely lasts long. Those people he encountered early on considered him a dream, or a hallucination, or a possession of the mind. His actual presence is… hazy. It’s easier to remember him by his name or his number, but everything else is-”
“Intangible.” His father finishes with a flourish. “No ordinary angel or demon could ever put a face to the name, only a feeling. Along with the rather excessive amount of glamours he employs when amongst the public, it is no wonder no one has sounded the alarm. Go ahead and recall his face in your mind, fallen. I’m sure you couldn’t piece it together even if you wanted to.”
Jungkook’s face screws up a little as an attempt, stricken dumb moments later when he can’t utter a thing. Your stomach churns at the thought, soiling your appetite even more.
It seemed like there was more to that story than you were being told, but you imagined that it would be quite a lot to relay to you in more than one sitting. After all, you still had no clue what you’d missed since you’d been gone, and it only hadn’t terrified you senseless because you were at least certain that the biggest threat to everyone’s lives had been right there with you the whole time.
“If you’re not planning to eat anytime soon, is there anything else you’d like to know? It’s not every day a mortal like you gets to talk to Lucifer.” With a small flourishing wave of his hand, Lucifer smiles at you, charming as ever. It was so strange. Yoongi acted nothing like his father, and yet you saw every bit of him in his expression.
You imagined Yoongi felt the need to distance himself as much as he could from his father’s intimidating image and had ended up creating his own in the process. Where Lucifer was inviting, however, Yoongi was… not for everyone. Even as he stares over the table at you, eyes hooded with what appears to be indifference rather than lasciviousness, you can’t help but see the other in him.
“I suppose not,” you murmur, “but now that I have the chance, I don’t really know what to say.”
Lucifer continues to smile, “Don’t fret! I’m sure after the doozy you’ve been in, you’ll need to rest up. You’re more than welcome to stay here until you feel it’s safe to go back topside.”
The thought of treating hell like a hotel to stay in was tickling to say the least. The minute you rise, Jungkook follows suit, nearly knocking his chair over in the process to follow you. “I’d appreciate that. Is there… perhaps a room I could cool down in? Maybe a bathroom?”
Lucifer had deposited both you and Jungkook in a rather nice room, fitted with all the things you’d find in a nice resort room overlooking somewhere like the Bahamas. The dark, brooding colors of Hell follow you even here, and what little light you are allowed in the room comes from fire or mysterious ambience. Still, it’s enough to splash your face with (what you’re definitely sure is) water in the ensuite bathroom.
Jungkook sits at the foot of the bed, watching you, “I missed you.”
Since the moment that the Lord of Hell and his son had left you to your devices, you’d become increasingly aware that something was off about your angel. You had imagined that it had been from the sheer worry he felt over you, but it was starting to feel different from that. Something not so easily explained. If only… if only you could figure it out.
You pat your skin dry and look over at him, measuring him up and down. Appearance wise, he still had the same haircut, same clothes, same shoes. It was the aura that felt different.
Slowly, you approach him from the bathroom and wish that there would be more light in the room to examine him with. In that same moment, what appeared to be a ray of warm light halos above you both, giving you exactly what you had wished for. When Jungkook looks up, he looks… radiant. “I missed you too…” You whisper, reaching out a hand to cup his jaw. At your touch, he shudders, melting into you, and those eyes then laser focus on your own. “Are you okay?”
“I am now.” He answers without hesitation, then turns to kiss your inner palm with such a sensual drag of his lips that you grow hot instantly. The surprise makes you yank your hand away and you swear you hear him whine at the missing contact.
“Y-You just look different.” You squeak, holding the aforementioned hand to your chest as if he’d burned you.
Jungkook’s bushy brows furrow. “Do I?”
When Jungkook had been an angel, he’d had a distinct glow about him that set him apart from others. It was cliche, but it made sense then. You knew that you were dealing with someone from another world. When he’d turned human, he’d felt softer, normal. He didn’t glow in any particular way lest the light hit him through the window just right. But now… that glow was back. In a way that didn’t feel familiar.
You reach your hand out again, but this time you let it wander. You push his fringe back from his forehead, then behind his ear, then down his neck to where a sweatshirt hides his collarbones. In a daze, you fall to your knees before his seated frame and push the fabric back some. You find… nothing. You don’t even know what you’re looking for. A vampire bite? What is so different?
Your hand starts to fall mindlessly as you wrack your brain, but it’s all for naught when Jungkook catches hold of it and intertwines his fingers with yours. His grip is warm and solid. But it’s still- “I thought he’d hurt you.”
You look back up into Jungkook’s eyes as he now leans over you with an intense stare. His hair curls around his cheekbones and twists away from his face at the nape, each strand fluttering as he inches closer until the longest ones are touching your face. “Not much. He healed what he did anyway.”
At that, your angel’s eyes narrow in their scan over you, “What did he do?”
You instinctively swallow. Perhaps because you remember the feeling. Perhaps because Jungkook looks like he could kill. “He… he had to get me to limbo. He had to…” You touch the skin of your throat the same moment you break eye contact, feeling the ghost of Seokjin’s fingers there. It wasn’t so long ago that it had happened after all. You could honestly still feel it.
The silence grows until it’s nearly unbearable, you eventually finding that Jungkook will say nothing while you continue to avoid his gaze. Against your better judgement, you chance a look up at him.
You don’t get very long to look. Jungkook takes both sides of your face and lunges forward like a man possessed and you are forced to follow. In your surprise, you stumble back onto your elbows and Jungkook slots himself between your legs, latching onto your lips in a searing kiss. It’s hot and fast and immature, the kiss of a person who has never kissed before and may never get the chance to kiss again. Youngho had never kissed you like this.
A gentle whimper escapes your mouth but Jungkook inhales it into his own. You feel something primal burn inside you when Jungkook growls out, crouching over you now like a predator cornering his prey, and he’s practically consuming you when you start to kiss back. Can you blame yourself? You easily fold into the feeling because it’s Jungkook and goddamn if you hadn’t wanted to kiss him badly before.
His inexperience does very little to dissuade from how good it feels too, and as you start to take over to guide him, he is all too eager to feel your reciprocated passion. The heady feeling he gives you in his sudden attack pushes all thoughts of Seokjin or the last few days out of your mind like a fast-acting asprin. All you can think of now is how tightly coiled you’d been and how Jungkook is loosening you up one press of his lips at a time.
He lays you on your back and you happily oblige, no cushioning found on the hard floor but you couldn’t care less. Jungkook is careful not to be too rough, aware of your needs as much as his own, and it’s jarringly sweet the way he cradles the back of your head to keep you from hitting it on your descent.
When he’s had enough of your lips (as if he could ever), he starts attacking your neck. He’s lapping at your skin and biting away as if he’s trying to remove all traces of Seokjin’s hands… as if he’s replacing the feeling with him and him only. “I’ll kill him,” Jungkook whispers, a foreign fury in his voice that makes your haze disappear in an instant while he continues to work at your neck, “I’ll kill him for ever touching you.”
Your hand shoots to his hair, feeling your heart beat faster from more than just the kisses, “Kook-” But any attempt at sobering up washes away when, to your surprise, he ruts against you. Youngho had never been that good at using his hips like that either. There was something definitely off with Jungkook.
As much as it pains you, you grab at his hair and yank back, ignoring (or trying to) the filthy groan that he gives in response before peeling away from your skin. You gasp for breath, absolutely winded, “What is going on?”
Jungkook pants past wet lips, “What do you mean-”
“Did Yoongi do this to you?” The sudden heated moment is over when you say that.
Jungkook’s blood has run cold. You have a very strong, haunting feeling that your mounting suspicions have proven correct. His eyes… as gentle as they always were when they looked at you, told you everything. He was not the same Jungkook you’d come to know. Something had happened to him. Something irreversible. You touch his face again and this time Jungkook does not move to embrace it. He looks like he’d rather be anywhere else in the world. “Why?”
In an attempt to escape your pitiful gaze, Jungkook’s eyes flutter shut, cutting you off from seeing him vulnerable any longer. It breaks your heart the longer he stays silent. There’s no denying it now.
A tear of his touches the palm of your hand instead of his lips this time, “How else could I protect you?” He chokes, weak, “I’m not your angel anymore. I can’t be like you. This is the only way... the only way I could stand to look you in the eyes again.”
warnings/disclosures: implied sex at the beginning but no smut, demons Yoongi and Yoonji, half angel Hoseok, talks of hell, madness, starving demons
a/n: this was supposed to be a typical good boy bad girl fic but somehow my brain was like ‘oh shit lets throw some demons in that bitch’ and now here we are lmao i might still do the the other fic haha so if the other one seems similar then thats why. also my brother helped me name this hehe
my AO3 | main masterlist
“He’s here!” The girls chatter excitedly as the sleek black Ducati pulls into the parking space right beside last year's model of Nissan. The engine cuts off as the kick stand comes down the driver moves to stand hands reaching up to undo the clip of his helmet. The air is thick with anticipation as the growing crowds of eager college girls set aside their differences to watch the man before them. The helmet comes off before any of them can even blink, cheers pouring from ever which direction as Jungkook shakes out his hair. The long curls stiff from being confined beneath his helmet.
He’s used to this type of behavior especially from girls on campus but he just wishes they didn’t make such a huge spectacle of it every time. To be honest he’s not quite sure where this idea of ‘big bad boy Jungkook’ came from; he's never done anything remotely bad in his life. At least none that any other normal consenting adult had, he doesn’t smoke unless it’s with his friends at a party, he drinks on occasion and he’s not a one night stand kinda guy, so he wonders where this idea came from. He can feel the beginning of a blush creep along his cheeks the longer he stands in the open with what feels like a million sets of eyes watching.
“Kook!” You squeal rushing up to him, easily settling his nerves and throwing your arms around his neck. He smirks down at your hands finding their way to your hips as you lean up to kiss him. He sighs against your lips a nervous tick he’s developed throughout the years you’d been dating, but even now you still smile into the kiss. It’s easy to forget about the crowd when you’re around and maybe that’s because he’s only ever had eyes for you or it’s the hand that’s cupping his dick through his jeans.
“Not here.” He almost whines because as much as he enjoys the feeling of your hand on his growing problem he’s not okay with an audience though he knows you are.
“Okay.” You mumble, quick to pull away and take his hand instead. He likes the way your hand fits in his, always has probably always will. And much like a man in love he’s busy thinking about all the little things to notice the empty classroom he’s been pulled into. You're quick to shove him against the wall unbuttoning his pants and slipping your finger beneath the waistband of his boxers. Jungkook isn’t new to this in fact despite your angel-like features it’s you who’s prone to breaking rules and doing reckless things. But he supposed that's what he liked about you in the first place.
“Is this okay?” you ask wrapping your fingers around his dick making him gasp at how warm your hand is.
“Y-yes.” he hisses as your teeth sink into the skin of his neck the pain is minimal, but one he likes a little too much. He can’t relish the feel of your lips for long as you drop to your knees in front of him with a grin that is a little too sweet compared to the dark look clouding your eyes. ‘*
“You’re starving yourself.” Yoonji says through gritted teeth.
“Where’s Yoongi?” you ask pointedly ignoring the girl as she trails behind you.
“___, please feed properly if you’re going to play with the human.”
“I’m not playing, and I’m fine. Stop worrying so much.” you scoff eyes narrowing when you catch sight of Yoongi. Your nose burns at the stench that comes from the group of boys you’ve come to know as Jungkook’s friends. They’re nice enough you guess but boring nonetheless as far as humans go, super attractive but still boring. You wished humans nowadays were more interesting. Yoongi meets your stare before you can approach the group, slipping away from them and meeting you halfway.
“What?” he drawls scowling at his twin sister who hisses at him.
“I see you’re still hanging around angle half breeds.” you snicker.
“Not this again princess.” he sighs.
“Don’t call me that.”
“And I wouldn’t have to if you didn't act like a prissy princess of hell.”
“I’ll tell Belphie.” you threaten eyes ablaze.
“The seventh prince has better things to do, are you feeling okay?” he asks, finally taking note of the way you’ve lost weight.
“I’m fine.”
“She’s starving herself because of that human.” Yoonji supplies.
“You’re not feeding off Jungkook?” the confusion in his tone is evident.
“It’s none of your business, besides we have more pressing matters. There are more demon half breeds starving on campus than I thought. The population is growing unsteadily and more demons are attacking humans from hunger at this rate there’ll be a war.” you say.
“What do we do?” Yoongi asks, glancing over Yoonji’s shoulder.
“I don’t know, I’ll have to go to hell if the situation worsens and I hate hell.” you mutter crossing your arms at your chest.
“This is because you’re slacking off.” Yoonji scoffs as you and Yoongi turn your gaze to her.
“What are you implying?” your ask through clenched teeth.
“You’ve just come back from hell, and you’re no stronger than you were because you refuse to feed properly. Face it, war is inevitable.” She spits, and of the two Yoongi was the more outspoken one but she refused to keep her mouth shut.
“And what would you have me do?” you whisper in a voice that shocks both of them. Truly of the eight royal children of hell you seemed to be the only one most if not all the demons wanted to become the next king. Yet here you stood starving and sounding like a scolded child who’s lost all fight. Nothing like the sole princess of hell and the raging bitch they knew you could be.
“What do you mean?” Yoongi asks.
“I can’t feed properly because I’ll kill him. You know what falling in love with a human does to demons. Eternal starvation or going feral at the loss of their mate.” Yoonji’s eyes widened significantly at your confession, because this entire time she thought this was just a fling. Just a passing fancy after all these years by your side she’d never expected you to fall in love with a human. Her fingers curl into her palms nails breaking the skin in an attempt to reign in her anger. She almost wants to laugh, oh the irony that you should fall into the same fate as your father. Falling in love with a human, except you’d apparently rather starve than go mad. She’d lose the only sister she’d ever had, and she wonders how your human would feel knowing that he would be your end.
let me know what you think! like are appreciated but comments are a writers lifeblood thank you for reading as always I hope you all have an amazing morning/afternoon/night!
Genre: demon!au, supernatural!au, eventual smut
Pairing: demon!yoongi x demon!hobi x reader
Word count: 2.4k
Warnings: none yet, foul language
Summary: You’ve thought your house has been haunted for awhile and you want your friend, Haneul, to help you figure it out. Yoongi and Hobi are on assignment at your house to find out why other demons that have inhabited your house have either gone insane or went missing entirely. A ouija board session goes wrong that sends Yoongi reeling back to his old ways and it’s up to Hobi to get him under control.
One week earlier
“I swear my house is haunted.”
Haneul stared at you as if you had grown a third eye. “Did you just say what I thought you just said?”
“Hear me out.” Haneul rolled his eyes. “Weird things have been happening! I’ll lose something for a few days and then it’ll just show up in the middle of my bed.” Haneul continued to give you a dead pan stare. “One day, I came home and all of my books on my bookcase were rearranged by color.”
“Someone broke into your house?”
“And rearranged my books? I don’t think so.”
“Listen, you’re probably sleep walking. Remember when we were kids? You used to do all kinds of weird shit.”
“This is different, and you know it.”
Present day
“Are you serious? A Ouija board?” Haneul had seen it all, but now he thought you were reaching.
“I have to find out what’s in my house, Haneul.”
“I’ll entertain you this one time, _____.”
On another plane of existence all together
Hobi dusted the imaginary dirt off his lapels as he stepped up on the sidewalk. Yoongi took his place beside him, sticking a sucker in his mouth as he squinted in the sunlight. The weather was hot, annoyingly so. The neighborhood around them reeked of old money and the house in front of them was an old Victorian style home that stood dark against the blue sky. Birds chirped in the trees above them and the sound of locusts buzzed in the distance.
“Did you get the job done?” Hobi asked looking sideways at the dark haired man beside him.
Yoongi looked at him lazily while slowly rotating the sucker in his mouth before he pulled it out with a slow ‘pop’.
“What? Didn’t think I could do it?”
“We’re on probation, we can’t be getting into trouble again or the big man downstairs is gonna be pissed.”
Yoongi rolled his eyes as he stuck the sucker back in his mouth. He spoke around it this time. “It’s not like we killed some big wig.”
“We killed the wrong person, Yoongi.”
Yoongi shrugged nonchalantly.
A woman walking her dog walked passed them, unknowing that they were there, but the dog looked straight at Yoongi. Yoongi pulled the sucker from his mouth and stuck his tongue out at the dog who growled in turn.
“Come on, Rex,” the woman said without so much as a glance behind her.
“I want a dog,” Yoongi stated.
“Can you stop playing around? We have work to do.”
“What are we doing here?” he asked gesturing to the house in front of him.
“Guy assigned to this house had a mental breakdown and they pulled him off the case.”
“Seriously?” Yoongi huffed out a laugh. “Guy couldn’t handle a ‘haunting’?” He held up his fingers in air quotes. “Why are we doing so much grunt work?”
“We’re in trouble, remember? Or did you already forget?”
Yoongi shrugged again.
“Why are you so lax about this? This could mean our lives, Yoongi.”
“How long have you been around, Hobi?” he asked pointing the sucker at him.
Hobi’s head shifted to the side quickly in thought. “Few thousand, give or take.”
“Exactly. If I go, I go.”
Yoongi thrust both arms out in front of him so that his sleeves came off his wrists. He reached down to roll them up to his elbows before he stuck his hand in his pocket.
“Let’s get this party started.”
“When do you want to do this?” Haneul asked.
“Tonight, of course. If we do it during the day it won’t have a good effect.”
“So…they only work at night?”
“No, I just think it’ll be better.”
Haneul sighed as he fell back on the couch and put his phone in front of his face. You walked to the kitchen to finish washing the dishes from the night before and that’s when you felt the shift in the atmosphere.
“Haneul?” you called. You heard no response. You quickly turned around and frantically looked around the kitchen for the source of the feeling. This was different from all the other times you felt like you were being watched. The air around you was thick and your tongue felt swollen in your mouth. The bulb above you dimmed slightly and you began to panic as your heart beat hard in your chest.
“This her?” Yoongi asked gesturing towards the girl in front of him. She seemed panicked as she looked around the room.
“Quit doing that,” Hobi said.
Yoongi snickered as the bulb went back to full brightness.
“_______. 26 years old, no immediate family still alive, believes in the occult, once dabbled in it at 16, only known close relationship is with her friend, Haneul, which was that guy in the living room you knocked out.” Hobi was reading from a paper he had pulled from his pocket.
“She’s cute,” Yoongi said walking up closer to her.
“Yoongi.” Hobi’s tone was low in warning. “Lest I need to remind you of 1692?”
“It was one time. Plus, new age, new rules.”
“The rules have never changed.”
Yoongi shrugged. “Fine. That girl got what she deserved anyway.”
“She was burned at the stake.”
“Hobi, we’re into those things. Lest I need to remind you of who we are?”
“I wish I could kill you.”
A large smile graced Yoongi’s face as he turned back to the girl. He casually leaned on the counter next to her and examined her face. “So, what’s the job?”
The girl turned in the general direction of Yoongi before she spoke. “Who’s there?” Her voice shook with fear as her grip tightened on the hand towel she held.
“She’s observant.”
“The job is to find out what’s going on with this house. The last guy had a mental breakdown and the one before that disappeared from this plane all together.”
Yoongi’s eyebrows shot up as he turned to Hobi.
“So, we were sent here for sacrifice? Typical.”
“No. They think we’re capable of finding the root of the problem.”
Yoongi reached out and tapped the girl on the nose. She went reeling back against the counter, breathing heavily.
“Yoongi, fuck off.”
He laughed as he sauntered back over to Hobi and sat cross legged on the floor.
“Where do we start?”
“First of all, cut the shit.”
All the sudden, the atmosphere in the kitchen turned back to normal.
“Haneul!!!”
Haneul came running into the kitchen looking around frantically. “What?!” he asked breathlessly.
“Did you feel that?”
He straightened from his “fighting” stance to look at you.
“I thought something bad had happened.” He turned to leave the kitchen once more.
“No, wait! I’m serious! The air felt…felt crushing; it was almost like I couldn’t breath Haneul. A-and then the lights dimmed, and I felt something touch me.”
“You need a nap.”
“Why don’t you believe me!?” You were close to tears now, the frustration coursed through your veins like fire.
“Look, I’m gonna tickle your fancy later and play with that Ouija board, but for now you need to chill. You’re getting yourself worked up over this.” Haneul had placed his hands on your shoulders and looked you square in the face. “Okay?”
You sighed heavily as you shook your head in agreement. “Okay.”
“Good. Now let’s go watch some stupid tv show.”
Later that night
Haneul walked into your spacious bedroom shortly after eleven that night and stopped dead in his tracks.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” he asked.
You sat in the middle of your bedroom, board on the floor, and surrounded by several lit candles.
“It’s for the atmosphere.”
“Is it absolutely necessary to recreate some scene from The Craft?”
“Just fucking humor me.”
“This is nice,” Yoongi said appreciatively as he walked into the room. “Candles and everything.” He said this with a wag of his eyebrows as he looked at Hobi. Hobi rolled his eyes as he walked the perimeter of the room.
“I met this woman downstairs,” Hobi said matter-of-factly.
“And?”
“She lived here about seventy years ago, but she doesn’t seem to be all here. I think she’s half in, half out. When I try to talk to her, she just looks at me confused and calls me Jaeho.”
“Well, fuck that lead then. Maybe she’ll conjure up some weird shit with this board.” Yoongi was pointing at the Ouija board in the center of the room.
“Like what? Something like us?” Hobi rolled his eyes.
“Can I mess with them?”
“Please don’t screw this up for us.”
“Just a little bit.”
You sat down in front of the board and placed your fingers on the planchette looking down at it pointedly so that Hanuel would get the idea. He sounded exasperated as he sat down in front of you and did the same. You moved the planchette around in a circle on the board.
“What are you doing?”
“Warming it up.”
“Oh yea, Ouija board, you feel that? This is demon foreplay.”
“Be serious, Haneul.”
He stifled his giggle as he let you move the planchette a few more times.
“Okay,” you began. “Now we ask it a question.”
“Fire away, séance master.”
You stared Haneul down as he smiled back at you.
“Is there anyone here with us?”
Yoongi looked expectantly at Hobi.
“Don’t get weird,” Hobi said.
Yoongi sat down on one side of the board, _____ on his right and Haneul to his left. He reached out and placed a single finger on the planchette as he slid it to ‘yes’.
______’s eyes opened wide as her gaze shot up to Haneul.
“You moved that,” Haneul said.
“I did not! Did you?!”
“Wasn’t me,” he shrugged.
“What’s your name?” she asked.
Yoongi snickered as he started to move again.
“D,” she said.
“I.”
“C.”
Yoongi was almost in full giggles at this point.
“K.”
“Oh my god, you’re a child,” Hobi said as he stood outside the circle of candles with his arms crossed.
“Haneul,” she said pointedly. “You’re an idiot.”
“I didn’t do it, ____! I swear!”
“You love dick jokes.” She was pissed now.
“Just ask another question.”
“Why are you here?”
Yoongi put his finger to his mouth in thought as he looked around the room objectively.
“Careful,” Hobi warned.
“Secret,” he spelled out.
“Secret?” she asked. “Are you a good ghost?”
Yoongi quickly spelled out demon.
“Fuck that,” Hanuel’s hands shot off the planchette. “I’m not fucking with this anymore.”
Hobi quickly passed through the circle of candles to pull Yoongi to his feet by his collar.
“Are you fucking kidding me you, asshole!”
The flames of the candles grew higher as Hobi’s anger rose and the room darkened to an eerie shade of black save for the flame of the candles that continued to grow higher and higher.
Yoongi was now equally as pissed as he shoved Hobi off him.
“Don’t fucking touch me, Hobi.” His dark hair was now covering his eyes, but Hobi could see the faint glow of fire there.
“Reign yourself in, Yoongi. Remember what happened last time.”
Yoongi’s anger didn’t subside as his hands fisted at his sides. The whole house started to groan and protest under the weight of him. The distant sound of wood cracking in the attic caused ______ to shoot up from her spot on the floor.
“We gotta get out of here!” she yelled while grabbing Haneul’s hand and pulling him from the room and down the stairs.
“Yoongi,” Hobi said taking a tentative step towards him. His eyes were full aglow now and the Yoongi he knew was far from this room. “You need to calm down.”
Yoongi breathed heavily as the veins on his neck became prominent against his skin. “Don’t tell me what to do.” His voice was deep, unnaturally so. “I’m sick and tired of you telling me what to do.”
Yoongi lashed out and picked up a desk chair next to him and hurtled it towards Hobi. Hobi held up his arm and let it crash against it, scattering into several pieces around him.
“Yoongi, stop it!” he yelled. As Hobi’s anger rose with Yoongi’s, the more the foundations of the house protested under the weight. The house groaned on its bearings and glass shattered somewhere downstairs. “You’re going to ruin this before we even start it!”
Yoongi was looking less human by the second as a shade of dark gray shifted and rippled across his skin, fingernails growing yellow as he challenged Hobi to come any closer. Hobi had dealt with an angry Yoongi in the past and this was no different; this was why Yoongi was no longer allowed to work alone.
“What the fuck is going on?!” Haneul yelled as a vase shattered beside him. The house groaned as if the very wood in the walls was going to explode at any second and the roof was going to come crashing down on them. The lights in every room flickered on and off sporadically as pictures fell off their nails and onto the floor.
“I told you something was in here!” you yelled as you rushed towards the front door.
You both ran down the front steps, tripping into the grass on the front lawn as you turned to look back at the house. The windows were now opening and closing so quickly that the glass in a few shattered. The lights continued to flash on and off along with the sounds of a deep growl and then a piercing scream and then, suddenly, it all stopped. You were both sitting on the lawn breathing heavily and staring up at the house as if you were expecting it to start up again.
“What. The. Fuck,” Haneul whispered beside you.
You both looked at one another trying to figure out what the hell had just happened.
Hobi held a now limp Yoongi in his arms. The charm Hobi had pulled from his pocket was now around Yoongi’s neck, having rent his powers from him. Hobi sighed heavily as he gently laid Yoongi’s body on the floor. He was breathing evenly now, his skin turned back to its normal pale shade, and Hobi knew if he opened his eyes, they would be back to their normal chocolate brown. Hobi fell back on his ass as he let out a long sigh.
