#he’s got a bartender look to him tho 👀👀 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

gimmethatagustd · 2 years

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repeat offense | ksj

The are only two constants in life: the promise of death and the infuriating existence of the man who ruined your life. Will your immortal punishments keep you in an infinite loop, or will you one day be able to rid the world of the evil that is Kim Seokjin?

» pairing: demon!seokjin x demon!reader (ft. angel!yoongi)

» wc/date: 3.6k | november 2022

» notes: PLS FOR THE LOVE OF GOD READ THE WARNINGS 💀 i hope y'all enjoy whatever the fuck this turned out to be lol. also rip to me posting this depressing ass fic on my fucking birthday. sorry to jin for my first fic of him being sad

» masterlist

» what was jai listening to? mind games - sickick

If it weren’t for your sixth sense, you would have never seen him coming.

It wasn’t some cliche tingling that set off the alarm bells ringing in your ear; it was more of an increasing hum of energy vibrating through your body, like a bullet ricocheting inside your bones. But sensing him was only half the battle. Now you had to figure out who he was. And it was always changing.

You brought your glass of bourbon to your lips and took a small sip, the ice clinking together.

“Another?” The bartender with smiling eyes dried off his hands with the small towel he kept tucked into his apron pocket. He jutted his chin at your now-finished drink.

“I’d like to close my tab, please.”

Initially, your suspicions made you hone in on the bartender, but you quickly ruled him out after he returned your credit card and receipt. In blue ink was his name and phone number scribbled on the back of the paper.

You pocketed it, just in case.

You had to admit, the body you were currently possessing was hot. It was a shame whoever originally owned it wasn’t able to take advantage of it now. Perhaps you would show the bartender everything this body was capable of later. But right now you were looking for someone else.

Departing the bar counter, you made your way toward the back of the dimly-lit bar, as though you were heading to the restroom. At a fork in the hallway, you turned left instead of right, slipping through a service door. You stepped out into the dark alley behind the building, rain-soaked gravel and cigarette butts crunching beneath your boots.

The heat from the bar continued to warm your back and you didn’t hear the door click shut behind you. Before you had the chance to turn around, a slender hand wrapped around your bicep and yanked you backward.

Even though the demon had a different body than the last time you’d seen him, you immediately recognized him for who he really was. That was the other power of your sixth sense; coming into contact with another demon would cause both of your eyes to momentarily bleed into all-black orbs before returning to normal once again.

“Kim Seokjin,” you sneered a greeting at the man and pressed against his throat the small dagger you kept hidden in your boot. “So this is the body you picked?”

In any other circumstances, you would have found him gorgeous. His dark hair was swept to the side to reveal a strong forehead and serious eyes. His lips naturally fell into a plump pout, though his mouth was now twisted into a smirk.

But you weren’t interested in entertaining a whistleblower, no matter how attractive.

“Are you not impressed?”

When you were forced to possess a body, you didn’t have a say in who you got. You were immediately bound to whichever unfortunate soul happened to cross paths with you first; it was pure luck. Still, you got too much pleasure mocking Seokjin to care about the logistics of it all.

“It’s better than last time. London, was it? It was a shame to see such an old woman’s soul go to waste because of you.” The tip of your dagger created a dent in Seokjin’s skin, but you weren’t applying enough pressure to draw blood.

Yet.

“Go to waste because of you,” Seokjin corrected.

“Oh fuck off. Your sad song has fallen on deaf ears for centuries, Kim. It’s time you give up the act.”

You felt a cool, blunt object press into your rib cage. Looking down, you were met with a handgun.

Once you noticed the firearm, Seokjin leaned into you and caused your dagger to prick a small mark on his skin. A few droplets of blood slid down his throat, but it didn’t deter him from flashing a toothy grin in your face.

“You’re fucking deranged,” you breathed. A gun was smart; why hadn’t you considered buying one the moment you’d spawned in this body? If you were lucky Seokjin would at least kill you quickly.

He wouldn’t, though. You wanted each other to suffer and you both knew it.

“You wish I was deranged.” Seokjin’s sing-songy voice dripped honey as he spoke. “It would mean the Prince of Darkness made a mistake in banishing you to the mortal world. He wouldn’t like to hear that you think he made a mistake, would he?”

The glint in his eye said more than his words did.

“You were the mistake,” you hissed, spitting at Seokjin’s feet. “I should have never trusted you.”

“I should have never loved you.”

He let out a growl and jabbed you in the ribs. The clash of metal against bone made you step backward and Seokjin was relieved from the point of your dagger. The tip was coated in a thin sheen of blood.

Once upon a time, neither of you could bleed - back when your bodies were your own and the two of you sat on either side of the throne of Satan, the Prince of Darkness as you once fondly called him, as his most trusted advisors. Some days, in the summer months or whenever you lived in warm climates, you could remember the lick of eternal flames at your ankles as you roamed the castle you’d once called your home.

The Prince was more so about aesthetics than about burning people alive, though you had just barely missed that fate yourself.

You often wondered if being consumed by those flames would’ve been better than the torture you were bound to for eternity, or until the Prince of Darkness decided to destroy Earth completely.

“If I remember correctly, you were the one begging me to help you find a way to Heaven,” Seokjin pushed forward. Now he had the gun pressed into your chest in full view of anyone who might step into the alleyway. It didn’t matter if anyone saw the two of you. Mortals couldn’t do anything worse to you than you could do to each other or yourselves.

“And you agreed to help, didn’t you?��

Right now you were out of options. A dagger would never win against a gun, and running would only get you so far.

“That would mean you were the mistake.” Seokjin must have seen the calculated look on your face because his sickeningly sweet smile grew as he backed you up against the building. “Trying to find a way out, love?”

Seokjin ran the gun along your chest and up your neck, eventually stopping at your face. You took a shaky breath as you felt the cold metal of the muzzle graze your cheek, not realizing Seokjin was using the barrel to brush the hair from your face.

“What’s the point in killing me, Seokjin? We waste our time chasing each other across the globe and for what reason? The result is always the same: we die, we respawn, we continue the cycle.”

At one point, you’d believed there could be an end. That one day, death would be permanent; that one day, one of you would win. Perhaps you pathetically underestimated the Prince of Darkness’s cruelty towards traitors. He’d made it impossible for you and Seokjin to do anything but live a thousand lives and die a thousand deaths.

What made it worse was knowing none of it would have ever happened if Seokjin hadn’t turned you in. The fact that he did so, knowing he too would be punished… It certainly spoke to the contempt he had for you.

Seokjin leaned into you so close your knees bumped into each other. Your eyes flickered black just as his did and you realized with a lump in your throat that you couldn’t remember what the two of you had looked like in your own bodies before the Prince banished you to a mortal existence for your crimes.

You wondered what the price of such a crime looked like in Heaven.

“We must die eventually,” Seokjin whispered. “And I intend to be the reason why you do.”

“Fuck you.”

You jammed your knee as hard as you could in between Seokjin’s legs. He immediately doubled over in pain and you didn’t stop to watch him sink to the ground.

Running away from Seokjin was running away from the inevitable, but you did it anyway. There was nowhere for you to go but away.

Your boots slapped against the wet concrete as you bolted down the alley. The cool autumn air felt damp and thick in your lungs, sitting heavily on your chest. It was a discomfort you never felt before being banished to Earth. Hell was brittle and dry. Earth reminded you more of Heaven.

The only time you’d gone to Heaven, you’d been shocked by the comfort of clouds. You remembered feeling the mist of condensation from the clouds melt the hardness of your skin and allow moisture to seep into the cracks lining your exposed skin.

The force of Seokjin’s body colliding with yours propelled you forward faster than your legs could keep up. You heard your knee crack and the skin busted open, leaking blood over the loose chunk of concrete you’d fallen onto. Your blood turned the muddy puddle swirling in the pothole under your limbs a dirty maroon. The wound in your knee was overpowered by the sting of gravel digging into the butt of your palms and your shoulder as your arms collapsed beneath you.

Almost immediately Seokjin was fisting the back of your shirt, hauling you onto your feet with a hard yank. The fabric pulled too tightly around your throat.

“Tell me, Y/N,” Seokjin hummed, his lips ghosting over your ear before you felt the cool metal of the gun against your temple. “Was your precious Yoongi worth it?”

You waited for the click of the trigger as the sky opened up. The rain came down in blurry sheets that wobbled your vision and made the gun heavy in Seokjin’s hand. You could tell because you felt it slip down your temple, eventually landing on the apple of your cheek.

Loving Yoongi had been worth enduring the most terrible of deaths, even at the hands of Seokjin - a man you’d once considered a dear friend.

Where you’d worn darkness like a silk cloak, Yoongi brought a light so blinding you swore his image was seared into your retinas.

God’s radiance couldn’t have compared.

“He still is.”

The rain washed the blood from the gash in your knee and Seokjin planted a bullet in your brain.

“That’s it, cum for me, angel.”

Real angels didn’t have halos like humans liked to say they did, but Yoongi emanated a glow so brilliant he bathed you in a soft yellow hue as you fell apart on top of him. Swift, gentle fingers massaged your clit and coaxed a third orgasm out of you. His hand was warm as he squeezed your hip, holding you in place while you nearly crumpled inward with the force of his final thrust into you.

Strands of white hair framed his head when he laid back down on the silky sheets. His forehead and cheeks practically glittered with perspiration in the warm glow from the intimacy you’d shared.

There was nothing more beautiful, in this life or any beyond.

Yoongi ran his fingers along your side profile. When they ticked your jawline, you ducked your head to escape the feeling.

“Talk to me, angel.”

Pain twisted in your stomach, but you swallowed it down. If only you were an angel.

“I love you.” You whispered the sweet confession into the crook of Yoongi’s neck. Even though you had defiled his innocence, you felt the purity of his soul radiate from his body. The feeling made you shiver when you curled into his side.

Something dark and thick sat heavy in your chest. You’d felt it the moment you stepped foot in Heaven. It made you want to recoil from the angel, even as you so desperately clung to him.

“I love you, too.” Yoongi intertwined his fingers with yours. He brought your hand to his lips and his touch pierced your skin like a hot iron. “I’d always thought angels weren’t capable of love.” His voice hummed in his throat against your cheek.

You shifted your face to press a kiss against his smooth skin. He made a happy noise and you squeezed your eyes shut when the glow of his skin became too bright to bear.

“Well, love outside of a love for God. Secular love,” he continued. “But I feel it with you. I know that it is love, even though it’s so different. It’s… it’s…” Yoongi cleared his throat when his voice cracked. “It feels special. It feels just for me.”

You felt his lips against your forehead, but you kept your eyes closed, content with watching colors dance along your eyelids.

“You’re changing me,” you whispered against his jaw with your head tilted up.

“Hmm?”

“Inside. It’s lighter.”

Yoongi tightened his grip around your waist.

This was when your memory became blurry. No matter how many restless hours you spent replaying the moment over and over in your head deep into the night, you couldn’t remember how you went from cuddling in your lover's arms to testifying in the High Court. Even the trial was less of a memory and more like slivers of moments that flashed across your mind’s eye.

The heaviness of the chains the Archangels draped over your body as you stood in front of a jury and audience of angel onlookers excited to see a demon in the flesh. A whore of a demon, nonetheless. A whore who had defiled the holiest of spaces and led one of their own into sin.

Seokjin with the same heavenly chains restraining his body, but carrying a look of triumph on his face.

Yoongi with his wings clipped.

An angel could never commit themselves to anything or anyone other than God, and especially not to a lowly, evil, disgusting demon.

You wished your brain would let you forget the broken look of dread on Yoongi’s face as the Archangels dragged you and Seokjin out of the courtroom.

You’d never seen him without his heavenly glow before.

And you'd never see him again, at all.

With a gasp, you flung your head and smacked the back of it into the headrest of the seat you were in. Your fingers squeezed around the car's steering wheel and you jerked on the wheel hard to avoid slamming into the car in front of you. The car you cut off in the next lane laid down on their horn, but you focused your attention on seeing through the watery image of the street you were on.

It was jarring every time you respawned into a new body, no matter how many times it happened before. Getting your bearings was difficult enough in itself. Add operating heavy machinery in a torrential downpour and it was downright dangerous.

A purse sat in the passenger seat. At a stoplight, you frantically sifted through the contents. Lipstick, a pocket mirror, a lone tampon - until your fingers brushed against something cool and glass.

Finding a phone was usually the best first step when respawning. Everyone kept everything on their phones, and with facial recognition, you didn’t even have to guess a passcode anymore. Scrolling through the phone’s contents, you located the maps app and put in the saved location, “Home” - wherever that would take you. All you knew was that you needed to get as far away from Seokjin as possible.

You were tired. Tired of searching, of fighting, even of running, though you knew running was now your only option. What were you supposed to do? Give up? Endure the pain of him killing you over and over again, in hopes that one day it would work?

No fucking way.

You pulled up to a modest suburban house with a white picket fence and evidence of children from the chalk drawings that covered the sidewalk and driveway. An unwelcomed thought tugged at you as you climbed the stairs to the front door, housekeys shaking in your hand.

In another life, this is what you and Yoongi could have had.

“Oh, honey. You’re home early?” A man’s voice called out from the living room. He poked his head into the hallway to see you standing in the entranceway. Your clothes clung to you with cold rainwater. “Honey, you’re soaked!”

Something about the way he called you honey made your skin crawl. Only one person was allowed to call you such names. And he certainly wasn’t this man, with messy hair and a too-pink face. Nothing about him glowed.

“I’m going to take a shower.” Speaking for the first time in a new body was odd, to say the least. You never knew what you would sound like and your voice always felt like it was coming from somewhere behind you like you were hearing someone else speak while you moved your lips along to their sounds. Your limbs were clumsy when you stomped up the stairs. You didn’t know where the bathroom was, obviously, but you assumed there would be one on each floor. You silently prayed that the man - who you assumed was your husband - wouldn’t follow you up.

Not that God would listen.

But your husband didn’t protest or follow and that was a small victory you would accept.

Free to roam, you checked every door until you found the bedroom. A small desk sat in the corner of the large room, a laptop sitting on top. You quickly sat down and pressed the spacebar. To your luck, the laptop was already logged into and unlocked. Having done this a million times by this point, you scrolled through the phone you’d found. People usually kept their passwords in the notes on their phones, particularly if they were middle-aged, which is what you assumed your body was. No one ever aged in Hell; it was weird to feel creaky and fatigued.

Finding what you needed was easy, just like it was easy to buy a plane ticket to a country on the other side of the world (under your husband’s airline membership because you might as well get him the mileage points while you kidnapped his wife). Luckily, your host was rich. The ticket didn’t put a dent in their bank account, leaving you with plenty of money to live off of until you died again or the credit card got canceled.

A tiny part of you felt terrible dragging a suitcase down the stairs and hauling it into the taxi out front while your husband frantically begged you not to leave. It was never worth it to come up with an excuse; making up fake reasons like divorce or imaginary business trips only caused more pain, in your opinion. No, it was better to stay silent, even though it pushed a sharp pain into your heart no matter how many times you had to break up families and friends. Silence prevented a fight.

So you kept your mouth shut from the moment you left the house until you were forced to interact with the airport employees. At least your host had a valid passport, you told yourself as you waited at the gate for your plane. It was important to acknowledge the small victories, you reminded yourself. Maybe one sliver of a silver lining was that living in host bodies allowed you to do things you’d never done before, to go places you’ve never been, and to have no real sense of responsibility aside from staying alive.

By the time the plane arrived, you were exhausted. Respawning took a toll on your body as your host’s soul often attempted to fight against you, to push through your oppressive presence inside their heads, inside their bodies. It was useless, but they didn’t know that.

You couldn’t blame them. It felt unnatural being in their bodies for you, too.

For now, a weight was lifted off your shoulders as you sank into your seat on the plane. The close quarters of the plane felt comforting; it was tight and uniform. No spontaneity. No surprises. It was the same every time: ticketing, security, waiting at the gate, waiting in line, finding your seat. You would fall asleep or listen to music or watch the clouds float in the atmosphere unrestrained like you longed to be.

As the remaining passengers slowly trickled in, you hoped the seat next to you would stay empty, though it always seemed like that never happened.

With a sigh, you leaned your elbow on the arm of your seat and gazed out at the airport employees loading everyone’s baggage. You didn’t look away until you felt that hum of energy that made your teeth clatter and fear to splinter your bones.

“Fancy seeing you here, Y/N.”

Seokjin buckled himself into the seat next to you and leaned against your shoulder. His lips just barely breathed warm air against the side of your face, but it was enough to make your skin shiver.

Just then the flight attendant announced an update regarding the plane’s estimated time of arrival. Ten hours. A ten-hour flight with Kim Seokjin at your elbow, a sickly sweet smile blooming across his face as you know yours twisted in dread.

“It’s cute you thought you could run, love.” He ran his fingers along your jawline. “Adorable.”

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