#or your life with people that dont sound like they want the best for you; only want what you can offer them | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jwonsite · 11 days

Text

bed chem - sim jaeyun

(part of the short n' sweet series)

pairing - collegestudent!jake x fem!reader

word count - 7.6k

warnings - drinking, unprotected sex (wrap it up,,), they don't rly know each other whoops, uhm lmk anything i missed

you looked in the mirror one last time as your best friend rambled on about how fun this party was going to be, and how you could finally “put yourself out there” after your last boyfriend.

“i am going to get so wasted tonight, apparently they hired like, an actual dj, and i heard somebody say that they were going to do a lip sync battle between the boys,” yunjin explained as she bounced on her heels, waving her hands around in excitement as she told you all the things she heard about the party already.

you ran your hands over the fabric of the dress again, silently questioning whether you were ready for this. it had been a few months since your last relationship, but the idea of putting yourself out there felt… a bit overwhelming.

“alright yes i get it yunjin, i promise i will not silently sit in the corner the whole time,” you said to her as you turned to walk out of your room

“okay okay, i’m sorry i just want you to have a little bit of fun for once. you’re always cooped up in this room doing god knows what,” she said as she grabbed her stuff and followed you out of your apartment

“how did you even find out about this again?” you asked her, sitting down in the drivers seat of your car as she settled into the seat next to you

“well i have a class with heeseung, and the other day he was talking about this ‘big party’ that his best friend was throwing for his birthday, and he asked me to come, and told me to ‘bring my friend too’,” she explained, applying another layer of lip liner and gloss in the small mirror above her

“wait pause, lee heeseung asked about me?” you asked, making a face of disbelief, considering you have never talked to him in your life

“well no, it was one of his friends, i dont remember which one of them it was they all kind of blur together in my mind,” she said as she closed the mirror and opened her phone, rambling about something she saw on her phone as you’re left to wonder which one of lee heeseung’s friends would’ve requested you at this party.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁. . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁. . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.

as the street filled with parked cars and the music thumped louder, a knot started forming in your stomach. you can’t believe you let her talk you into this, much rather being at home in your pajamas binge watching a new series. you glanced at yunjin, who was already checking her lipstick in the mirror, completely unfazed. of course, she was used to this; you, on the other hand… it had been a while.

you find a parking spot relatively close to the house after a boy helped his very obviously drunk girlfriend into the car and drove away. parking the car you grabbed your bag and looked at your best friend,

“yunjin do not leave me alone here like last time. and if you are going home with somebody please tell me before you’re already halfway to his house so i dont go insane looking for you,” you said a bit sternly

“i promise i will tell you if i leave,” she said, extending her pinky out to you as you guys have done for all the years you’ve been friends, interlocking your pinkies before touching your thumbs together and smiling.

as you stepped out of the car, the crisp night air hit your skin, contrasting with the heavy thrum of bass in the distance. the smell of alcohol already lingered, though you hadn’t even reached the front door.

yunjin let out a small squeal, excited to have finally been able to convince you to come to a party with her again. she grabbed your hand as you both walked to the front door, watching as a group of people are huddled on the porch, holding red cups as they laughed at the boy in the middle badly attempted to show off a dance move to the rest of the group.

inside, the bass vibrated through the floor, almost drowning out the sound of slurred conversations and wild laughter. the room was dimly lit, only flashing neon lights from the dj booth cutting through the haze. the air was thick with the scent of alcohol and the heat of too many bodies crowded into one space.

your grip on yunjin’s hand tightened as the crowd pressed in, laughter and music swirling around you like a chaotic blur. part of you wanted to turn around, walk right back out into the quiet night. but another part, the part that hadn’t let go of your last relationship, wondered if maybe, just maybe, yunjin was right. maybe tonight was the night to try and put yourself out there again.

as you and yunjin made it through the large crowd and to a less crowded area of the party, she let go of your hand before yelling over the music, “i’m gonna go say hi to heeseung,” she said with a wink, “ill be back!”

you shook your head a bit as you let out a small laugh, the small crush your friend had on the boy never letting up. you sat down on one of the couches in front of you, and your mind briefly wandered to heeseung’s friends, trying to remember their faces. which one of them had asked for you? the thought lingered for a moment, but you quickly shook it off. it didn’t matter, right?

as yunjin disappeared into the crowd, the thrum of excitement that she had brought with her quickly faded, leaving you alone with the deafening music and unfamiliar faces. you looked around, suddenly aware of how out of place you felt without her by your side.

you pulled out your phone, scrolling through it for a bit before you felt somebody sit down next to you, looking to your left and seeing a boy wearing a white jacket. his long brown hair fell nicely to the sides of his head, highlighting his big brown eyes and plump lips, seeing them curl up as he smiled at you.

“you here by yourself?” he asked you, the words rolling off his lips coated in a thick australian accent.

“oh no, i’m here with my best friend but she disappeared a bit ago to find someone,” you said looking down shyly, smiling as you looked back up at him as you finished your sentence.

you recognized him, but you weren’t sure from where. you probably had seen him around campus, pushing it out of your head as he spoke up again.

“ah well, you could hang with me for a bit til she gets back,” he said, smiling at you with his eyes wide. you let out a small laugh as you nodded, but your heart raced a little faster than you’d expected. It had been a long time since you’d felt the nerves of sitting close to a boy, especially one who looked at you like that. was this how flirting was supposed to go? you could barely remember.

"i’m jake, by the way," he said, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiled.

"nice to meet you, jake," you replied, still feeling a little off-kilter but warming up to the conversation, "i’m y/n"

he let out a small chuckle, "you looked like you needed a rescue back there, these kinds of parties not your scene?"

you laughed, feeling yourself relax just a bit, "is it that obvious?"

he looked up as he pretending to think about your question, “hm, just a bit,” he said, feeling his knee brush lightly against yours as he leaned in, his smile growing wider. you noticed the faint scent of his cologne, warm and slightly sweet, mixing with the alcohol-laced air.

“you want something to drink?” he asked, pointing over his shoulder at the drink table behind him.

“sure,” you said, going to get up before he stopped you, putting a hand out in front of you

“no no its okay i got it, what do you want?” he asked you, looking down at you as you sat back down on the couch.

“surprise me,” you replied cheekily, smiling up at him as he walked away.

as you watched jake weave through the crowd toward the drink table, you couldn’t help but feel a flutter of excitement, or was it nervousness? you couldn’t tell.

jake returned with a grin, making eye contact with you. you stifled a laugh as he tripped over the carpet beneath the couch, catching himself just before falling.

“that carpet definitely wasn’t there before,” he said, laughing as he sat down next to you. he handed you a red cup filled with a vibrant orange liquid. you took the cup, peered inside, and sniffed. the strong aroma of alcohol mixed with a fruity scent made you scrunch your nose.

“i’m not going to wake up in an unknown place tomorrow with no memory of tonight if i drink this, am i?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

jake let out a small laugh, grabbing the cup from your hand. he poured the contents into another cup, mixing them together before handing it back. “there, promise I’m not trying to kill you,” he said with a wink, taking a big swig from his own drink.

you took a cautious sip, then looked at jake with a mock-serious expression.

“well, i guess if i wake up in a strange place i’m blaming you,” you said with a grin.

jake chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “fair enough. but I’ll do my best to keep you safe,” he said, running a hand through his hair.

you two continued to talk, the conversation flowing effortlessly between playful banter and discussions about your future plans. jake shared what he does for fun, his major in school, and his aspirations for after graduation. you found yourselves bonding over shared interests and ambitions, discovering more common ground as the night went on.

as you spoke, jake’s proximity made it hard to concentrate. his cologne, warm and slightly sweet, mixed with the scent of the party, creating a dizzying effect. he inched closer, your knees touching as he placed a hand on your thigh. the simple touch, combined with his intense gaze, made your heart race and your thoughts scatter.

his fingers rested lightly on your leg, and you could feel the warmth of his hand even through the fabric of your dress. you tried to focus on the conversation, but the closeness and the lingering effect of the alcohol made it increasingly difficult to think straight. jake’s voice, warm and smooth, seemed to envelop you, making everything else fade into the background.

you glanced at him, catching his gaze as he spoke, his eyes reflecting a genuine interest and a hint of something deeper. you were so focused on the boy in front of you that you had completely forgotten about waiting for your best friend to come back.

a hand on your shoulder made you turn around, and you saw yunjin standing there, with heeseung right behind her.

“i’m leaving. you good?” she asked, her eyes flicking to jake before turning back to you.

“yeah, i’m fine. keep me updated on where you are, i’ll see you tomorrow,” you said, pulling her in for a hug. she bent down, wrapping her arms around you, and whispered in your ear.

“that’s him,” she said quickly, a hint of excitement in her voice, “he’s the one who asked about you.”

your cheeks heated at the thought that jake had actively looked for you during the party. as yunjin pulled away and smiled at you, raising her eyebrows, you felt a rush of warmth.

“well, anyway, bye,” she said, drawing out the word as she grabbed heeseung’s hand and practically dragged him out of the house.

you watched them leave, feeling a mix of excitement and nervous anticipation. turning back to jake, you found him still smiling at you, his interest palpable.

“was she your ride?” he asked, his face showing a hint of concern.

“no, no, i was actually her ride,” you explained. “i just like for her to let me know when she’s leaving so i don’t go crazy looking for her when i want to leave.”

“makes sense,” he said, nodding. the conversation fell into a brief silence, and you could sense the shift in the air.

“well, i should probably head home,” you said, standing up. you stumbled slightly to the side as you straightened up. jake quickly stood, his hands reaching out to steady you, resting gently on your waist.

“woah, are you sure you’re okay to drive home?” he asked, his hands still on your waist, holding you upright. your faces were inches apart, and the warmth of his touch sent a rush of feelings through you. his close proximity made your mind fuzzy, and you found it hard to focus on anything other than the way his hands felt on you. at your lack of response, jake gently removed his hands and grabbed your bag from the couch.

“i’ll drive you home,” he said, taking one of your hands in his and leading you out of the house. he fished your car keys out of your purse and pressed the lock button to find your car, spotting it parked at a nearby house.

as you walked together, your thoughts were consumed by the lingering sensation of his hand on yours. the warmth and security of his grip made your heart race and your mind swirl with a mix of excitement and anticipation. you let him lead you to your car, watching him as he opened the passenger door for you and helped you get in. he walked around the front of the car and got into the driver's seat, turning on the car before adjusting the seat and mirrors for his height. he put the car in drive and pulled out of the parking spot.

as jake pulled up in front of your apartment building, the soft glow of the streetlights bathed the street in a muted orange hue. the ride had been quiet, with a comfortable silence lingering between you two. as he cut the engine, the quiet felt heavier, almost like neither of you wanted to break it.

jake glanced over at you, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “you okay?” he asked, voice soft but tinged with concern.

you nodded, trying to push down the nervous flutter in your stomach. “yeah, i’m good. thanks for driving me.”

he gave a small shrug, his eyes never leaving yours. “i wasn’t about to let you drive home after everything tonight. no way.”

you smiled in return, the warmth in his gaze doing more to settle you than you’d care to admit. after a moment of hesitation, you reached for the door handle, but the thought of saying goodbye so soon felt wrong, unfinished. you turned back to Jake, the words slipping out before you could second-guess them.

“do you… wanna come inside for a bit?”

jake blinked, his eyebrows rising slightly in surprise, “inside? i mean, sure, if that’s okay with you.”

“yeah,” you said quickly, the sudden rush of confidence surprising even you, “i just thought it might be better than you waiting out here or calling an uber.”

jake grinned, his eyes softening in that easy, charming way he had, “i’m not gonna say no to that.”

you both got out of the car, the cool night air nipping at your skin. as you led him to the door, the sound of his footsteps behind you felt grounding, reassuring. once inside, you clicked on a small lamp, the warm light spilling over your cozy apartment. you turned to see jake taking it all in, his hands shoved into his jacket pockets.

“it’s nice,” he said, his voice quieter now that you were in a more intimate space. “feels like you.”

you blinked at him, caught off guard,

“like me?”

“yeah,” he nodded, offering you a soft smile. “warm, inviting.”

heat crept up your neck at his words. you quickly moved toward the closet, pulling out a blanket and some pillows. “you can, uh, take the couch. it’s really comfortable. i have extra blankets if you need more.”

jake chuckled softly as he watched you fuss around, “thanks, y/n. i appreciate it.”

you placed the pillows on the couch and turned back to him, feeling a bit self-conscious now that you were standing in the soft glow of the living room together. the energy between you two felt different here, softer, closer.

“so… do you want something to drink?” you offered, “water, soda, tea?”

“water’s fine,” jake said, following you with his eyes as you made your way to the kitchen.

“you’re being really sweet about this, you know that?”

you laughed quietly, grabbing a glass. “i just don’t want you to think i invited you in and then abandoned you on the couch.”

jake smiled, his gaze lingering on you as you handed him the glass of water.

“i definitely don’t feel abandoned.”

his words hung in the air for a moment longer than necessary, and you found yourself nervously tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“so, um, you’re okay with crashing here? i mean, i don’t want it to feel awkward or anything.”

jake shook his head.

“not awkward at all. actually… it’s kind of nice. i wasn’t ready to head home yet anyway.”

you bit your lip, contemplating your next move.

“well… if you’re not tired, we could, i don’t know, watch a movie or something? just to wind down?”

jake’s eyes lit up, “a movie sounds perfect. wyou got?”

You walked over to the couch and gestured toward your small but growing collection of dvds and streaming options on the tv.

“pick your poison. i’m pretty easygoing when it comes to movies.”

jake grinned, kneeling down in front of your collection, his fingers brushing over a few titles before he looked back at you with a playful gleam in his eye.

“rom-com or action?”

you rolled your eyes playfully. “you really think I’m the rom-com type?”

he chuckled, shaking his head, “i don’t know, i could see you enjoying a cheesy romance now and then.”

“alright, fine,” you said with a smirk, “pick whatever you want. i’m just going to change into something more comfortable.”

jake nodded as you disappeared into your bedroom, your heart racing a little faster than it should have been. the realization that jake was in your living room, picking out a movie for the two of you to watch together, was almost surreal.

when you emerged a few minutes later, now dressed in comfy sweatpants and a hoodie, jake had settled on the couch, the movie queued up, and now changed into a pair of sweats and oversized t shirt that you had left out for him. he looked up at you with a grin.

“i went with action. hope that’s cool,” he said, patting the seat next to him.

“totally fine,” you laughed, sitting down beside him, leaving just enough space to feel the comfortable tension between you.

the movie started, and for the first few minutes, you both stayed focused on the screen, the low hum of action scenes filling the room. but as time passed, you found yourself sneaking glances at jake. his profile, illuminated by the soft glow of the tv, was calm and relaxed.

eventually, you leaned back into the couch, letting the comfort of the moment settle over you. “thanks for tonight,” you said softly.

jake turned his head, his gaze finding yours in the dim light. “i should be the one thanking you.”

you smiled, feeling the weight of his words. “for what?”

“for letting me in,” he said quietly, his voice sincere.

for a moment, neither of you spoke, the quiet hanging in the air between you. then, without really thinking, you nudged him with your elbow, breaking the tension with a smile. “well, if you get popcorn crumbs on my couch, i might take it back.”

jake laughed, the sound low and warm, and suddenly everything felt easy again. you leaned into the movie, the space between you shrinking ever so slightly as the night went on, the quiet intimacy of it all wrapping around you both like a soft, shared secret.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁. . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁. . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.

you woke up early the next morning, the soft rays of sunlight filtering through the curtains, painting the room in golden hues. it had to be around 6 or 7 a.m. the apartment was quiet, the only sound being the rhythmic breathing from the boy underneath you. you went to move, instinctively reaching for your phone, but stopped as you became fully aware of where you were—and who you were with.

your face warmed as you realized you were lying completely on top of jake, his arms wrapped snugly around your waist, his chest rising and falling beneath you. you didn’t even remember how you ended up like this, barely recalling falling asleep in the first place. all you could focus on was the heat of his hands resting against your back, their warmth burning through the thin fabric of your t-shirt, as though they belonged there.

jake stirred slightly, his body reacting to your small movements. his eyes opened slowly, still heavy with sleep, and as he looked down at you, his messy hair and sleepy expression only made your heart race more. his grip on your waist tightened slightly, pulling you just a little closer, as if to confirm that you were real.

“hi,” you said softly, a smile tugging at your lips.

“hey,” he replied, his voice raspy from sleep, one hand lazily leaving your waist to rub the sleep from his eyes. even in his groggy state, his gaze was soft, lingering on you with that same intensity from last night.

he shifted, propping himself up slightly against the arm of the couch. his hands moved to your waist again, gently guiding you so that you were now straddling his lap. the movement felt effortless, as if the two of you had done this a hundred times before. your heart was beating out of your chest, but something about this felt... right.

you instinctively rested your hands behind his neck, fingers playing with the soft strands of hair at his nape. the closeness was intoxicating, neither of you speaking as you exchanged quiet smiles. in this early morning haze, with sleep still clinging to your senses, it felt like the world had narrowed down to just the two of you. it was domestic, almost intimate in a way that left you breathless.

jake’s eyes searched yours, his expression thoughtful before he spoke. “i really want to kiss you right now,” he admitted softly, his voice low and sincere, never breaking eye contact.

his words caught you off guard, your heart skipping a beat. you blinked at him, your mouth slightly open in surprise, trying to process what he’d just said. before you could respond, jake’s face shifted, a flicker of uncertainty passing through his eyes.

“i’m sorry, was that too far—”

but his words were cut short as you leaned in, closing the gap between you. your lips met his in a rush of heat and urgency, the feel of his lips against yours instantly sending sparks through your body. for a second, jake’s eyes widened in surprise, but he quickly melted into the kiss, his grip on your waist tightening. his hands moved up and down your sides, fingers tracing the fabric of your shirt as if memorizing the feel of you.

the kiss was far from perfect, messy, a tangle of teeth and tongues, but that only made it better. there was no hesitation, no holding back. you pressed yourself closer to him, your arms tightening around his neck, and jake responded in kind, pulling you against him with a kind of desperation, as though he had wanted this for as long as you had.

time seemed to blur as the kiss deepened, the air between you thick with longing. you could feel the pounding of his heart beneath your hands, mirroring the wild rhythm of your own. the world outside faded, leaving only the heat between you, the sound of your shared breath, and the lingering taste of his lips on yours.

he pulled away to catch his breath before moving his lips down your neck, kissing and sucking on it and leaving red marks along his path. you threw your head back as you let out small moans, gripping the hair along the nape of his neck tightly. after taking his time on your neck, he pulls away and looks at you with a certain desperation in his eyes.

“i want you so bad, please.” he says, looking at you with pleading eyes, waiting for you to give him the okay. you nodded at him quickly before he let out a small groan and picked you up to lay you down on the couch, hovering over you before continuing to kiss you, kissing down your neck again before grabbing the hem of your t shirt and pulling it over your head. you let out a small moan as kissed your exposed chest, his hands wrapping around your back to unclasp your bra, slipping it off your arms and discarding it somewhere on the floor in your living room.

“so pretty…” he muttered to himself as he continued to kiss down your body. your hands tangled into his hair, grabbing at the roots of his brown locks and tugging slightly. you let out a small whine of impatience, pushing his head down towards your core softly.

“jake please,” you said breathily, not even sure what you were asking for.

“please what baby?” he asked you, coming up from his spot over your lower stomach to kiss your jawline

“want you so bad don’t tease,” you said with a pout, looking up at him with pleading eyes as he had done to you before.

“shh be patient princess, i promise i’m gonna take good care of you,” he said to you before kissing your lips softly and returning back to where he was on your lower stomach. he moved down a bit more to kiss your core over the sweats you were wearing, watching as you grabbed onto the cushions next to you in frustration.

he chuckled to himself before hooking his fingers on the waistband of your pants and pulling them down, exposing the black lacy pair of underwear you had on. he swears he practically salivated at the sight, wanting to feel you on his tongue right now, but also wanting to prolong this moment forever. you bucked your hips up towards his mouth, trying to get more friction against your core. he kissed the insides of your thighs before pulling your underwear to the side and licking a stripe right up your folds. you let out a loud whine at the sensation of him where you’ve wanted him this entire time.

“mm you taste so sweet princess,” he said, dipping his head down for another taste of you. he suckled on your clit as his hands were wrapped around your thighs, holding you down onto his face so you couldn’t move off of him. he was devouring your core like he was a starved man, licking and sucking your clit while also putting his tongue inside your hole ever so often. you grasped at the couch cushions next to you before one of you hands flew to his head, grabbing at his hair and the other moved to grab your boob, playing with and pinching your nipple.

he moved one of his hands up to play with your other boob, using his other hand to finger you, sticking two of his fingers inside you while still sucking on your clit and playing with your boob, the sensation of everything hes doing making your mind practically break, barely even able to think about anything other than his mouth on you. you felt your high approaching, the familiar knot in your stomach tightening as he continued his ministrations on your body. as your orgasm hit, he continued eat you out through it, slowing his finger and bit but keeping his mouth on your clit. once you had stopped shaking and calmed down, he pulled away, licking his lips and sucking your juices off his fingers.

“did so good for me baby, taste so good,” he said as he finished cleaning your essence off his fingers. you pushed yourself off the couch and onto your still weak legs, standing at the edge of the couch about to sink down onto your knees before jake stopped you, grabbing your forearm and pulling you onto his lap.

“as much as i would love to feel your mouth around me, i need to be inside you. we can save that for next time,” he tells you with a wink, lifting you up for a moment so he can pull his pants and underwear down, his hard on slapping against his stomach as he lets you settle back down on his lap, leaning forward to suck on one of your nipples and taking your other boob in his hand. your hand tugged at the hem of his t shirt, signaling to him that you wanted it off. he chuckled before leaning back and tugging his shirt off, letting you ogle at his chiseled abs and chest. you ran a finger down his abs, tracing the lines as he watched you, hands moving to your ass and massaging it. he pulled your underwear to the side and let you sink down onto his dick.

you both let out small moans and whines, leaning forward to bury your head in his neck, moaning into it and sucking small hickies onto it. you bottomed out on him, sitting there for a second to let yourself adjust to his size. he throws his head back on the couch, closing his eyes and letting out a small ‘fuck’ as you sit on him, he looks back at your face, lip slightly bit and eyes squeezed shut.

“please move princess, i can’t do this,” he asks you, rubbing one of his hands up and down your back soothingly. you opened your eyes and obliged to his request, slowly lifting off him so you can sink back down, repeating this until you have a steady pace, your legs burning a bit as you fight to lift off him. your pace quickens as you rest your hands on his shoulders, grabbing onto them to ground yourself.

“fuck jakey i cant ‘s too much need help,” you say to him with a pout, tears pricking at your eyes in frustration.

“aw baby need my help? its okay i got you,” he says as he picks you up off of him and puts you face down ass up on the couch, settling behind you before pushing himself into you again, his pace quick and deep, not giving you a moment to breathe. you fisted at the blanket still lying on the couch from last night, grabbing it and burying your face into it to stifle your moans. you could feel his hips being to stutter, his pace faltering a bit as you guessed he was close to finishing. you were close again too, reaching a hand down to play with your clit to help you finish at the same time as him. jake watched as your hand went down to your core and he swears it pushed him over the edge, shooting his cum deep inside you right as your second orgasm hit you, your legs shaking as you clenched around him, milking his cock.

he pulls out of you slowly, not wanting to overstimulate you anymore, before picking you up to lay you back against him.

“mm, go to my room ‘m sleepy,” you said to him before he could settle down, letting him pick you up and walk to the bedroom he had seen you exit the night before. the bed was still freshly made from not being slept in, but before he placed you in bed he took you to the bathroom, placing you on the toilet so you could pee, and then grabbing a few wipes to clean you up. he picked you up again, walking out to your bedroom and placing you on the bed, tucking you into the freshly made sheets and getting in bed next to you. you pull him against you, throwing one of your legs over him as you bury your face into his chest as he wraps his arms around you, letting his smell intoxicate your senses. you felt him kiss the top of your head before drifting off to sleep, feeling secure in his arms as he holds you.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁. . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁. . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.

you woke up again later that morning, the bed next to you noticeably empty. groggily, you reached for your phone on the nightstand to check the time. 11:24 a.m. blinked back at you in soft, digital numbers. as you shifted to sit up, a dull ache spread through your legs and core, reminding you of the ministrations of the morning. you winced slightly, muscles protesting at the movement. but your mind quickly shifted to the more pressing question—where was jake?

slowly, you got out of bed, walking with a slight limp as you made your way toward the living room. the sounds of activity in the kitchen caught your attention, and when you peeked in, you couldn’t help but smile at the sight in front of you.

jake stood there, a mess of pancake batter smeared across his arms and face, frantically attempting to balance cooking pancakes, bacon, and eggs all at once. from the look of it, it wasn’t going very well. the pancakes were sticking to the pan, some slightly burnt around the edges, while the bacon seemed dangerously close to being overcooked. he was muttering something under his breath, eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

you bit back a giggle, finding his distressed state both endearing and hilarious. you stayed back for a moment, just watching him as he tried to flip a pancake, only for it to fall apart mid-air, half of it splatting onto the stove.

“this is a lot harder than they make it seem,” he muttered to himself, his frustration growing. “how am I supposed to tell when one side is cooked? every time I try to flip them, they just fall apart. then when I focus on the pancakes, the bacon burns... and oh my gosh, i forgot about the eggs…” he scrambled to pull the bacon off the burner before it became any more charred than it already was.

you couldn’t hold back your laughter any longer, a soft giggle escaping your lips. jake froze, turning toward you with a sheepish grin, as if just now realizing how ridiculous the scene must look. his hair was tousled, and the smear of pancake batter on his face made him look like a kid caught in the middle of a food fight.

without a word, you walked up behind him and wrapped your arms around his back, resting your cheek against the broad expanse of his shoulder. the warmth of his body was comforting, familiar. you pressed a small kiss against his shoulder blade, smiling to yourself as you felt him relax under your touch.

he turned his head to look at you, his eyes soft but amused. “i’m trying,” he said with a sigh, “but i think i’m in over my head here.”

you glanced at the stove, seeing the evidence of his valiant but slightly chaotic efforts. with a soft chuckle, you gave him a playful nudge. “i can see that. but don't worry, i’ve got this. go sit down before you burn the kitchen down.”

jake laughed, his shoulders sagging in relief as you motioned for him to sit at the counter’s barstools. he wiped at the pancake batter smeared on his forearms, then gave you a grateful smile. “you sure? because I’m about two seconds away from calling for takeout.”

you shook your head with a grin. “i’ll save breakfast. just sit tight,” you said, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek before moving back to the stove

jake took a seat, watching as you moved effortlessly around the kitchen, turning down the heat on the stove and rescuing the pancakes from total disaster. as you whisked together a fresh batch of eggs, you could feel his eyes on you, but instead of the tension from earlier, it was a warm, lingering gaze that made your heart flutter.

“not gonna lie, I’m a little impressed,” jake admitted, resting his chin on his hand as he watched you in awe. “i thought i could handle breakfast, but clearly i was wrong.”

“you had the right idea,” you teased, glancing over your shoulder with a smirk. “execution could use a little work though.”

he chuckled, leaning back in the chair. “i’ll leave the culinary stuff to you then. i’ll handle... well, anything that doesn’t involve flipping pancakes.”

“deal.”

within a few minutes, you had managed to salvage the meal, serving up perfectly golden pancakes, crisp bacon, and fluffy scrambled eggs. you slid a plate in front of jake, who gave you an exaggerated look of gratitude.

“this looks amazing,” he said, eyeing the food with genuine appreciation. “you’re a lifesaver.”

you joined him at the counter, sitting down next to him with your own plate. “well, it’s the least I could do after you tried so hard. but next time? maybe stick to something simpler, like toast.”

he laughed, taking a bite of his food. “yeah, noted.”

the two of you ate in comfortable silence, the clinking of cutlery the only sound in the air. you glanced up at him every now and then, noticing the subtle bounce of his leg under the counter. his hands fiddled with the edge of his plate, eyes occasionally darting to you as if he was trying to work up the courage to say something. you leaned forward slightly, concern softening your features.

“you okay?” you asked, your voice gentle but curious.

"hm? oh yeah, i’m fine,” he replied with a small chuckle, though his tone was a bit too casual, unconvincing. his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.

you raised an eyebrow, sensing there was something more on his mind. jake inhaled deeply, his chest rising with a nervous breath before he finally spoke, the words tumbling out quickly, almost all at once.

“i was just wondering if, maybe, you wanted to go on a date with me? a real one, like at a restaurant or something fancy like that,” he asked, his voice tinged with nervous excitement. he kept his gaze on you, but you could see the flicker of doubt in his eyes.

a soft giggle escaped your lips at how flustered he sounded. you turned to face him fully, your heart warming at how endearing his awkwardness was. reaching out, you gently took one of his hands in yours, threading your fingers through his. his hand felt warm and solid in your grasp, a reassuring touch as you smiled up at him.

“jake,” you said, giving his hand a light squeeze. "you really think after everything that happened last night and this morning i would say no to going on a date with you?”

his eyes widened for a moment, like he hadn’t even thought of that possibility. you grinned, enjoying the way his nervous energy shifted into something more relaxed as you continued.

“of course i’ll go on a date with you. to a restaurant, somewhere fancy... whatever you want,” you teased, repeating his words back to him with a playful tone and a soft smile.

jake let out a long sigh of relief, a smile breaking across his face as he dramatically placed his free hand over his heart. "oh thank god. i was so worried you were going to say no. that would’ve been really embarrassing, especially after... well, everything.”

he glanced at you, his expression a mix of humor and sincerity, like he still couldn’t quite believe his luck. you leaned closer, pressing a light kiss to the back of his hand before pulling away.

“well, you don’t have to worry about that," you reassured him. "i’m looking forward to it.”

the tension between you melted, replaced by the easy warmth that had been there since the night before. jake’s eyes lingered on yours for a moment longer, his leg finally still as the nervous energy dissipated. you could feel the shift in the air between you, something that felt more real, more grounded, like the beginning of something truly special.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁. . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁. . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.

months had passed, and your new apartment was still half-filled with unpacked boxes, yet it already felt like home. the sunlight streamed through the window as you stood in the living room, trying to make sense of where to hang the last picture frame. jake was on the floor, fumbling with the assembly of a coffee table, muttering curses under his breath.

“you sure you don’t need help?” you teased, leaning against the doorway with a smile.

he glanced up, flashing you a sheepish grin. “i’ve got it. i think.” then, after another failed attempt to fit the legs together, he sighed dramatically. “okay, maybe not. wanna come rescue me?”

you laughed, walking over to him. kneeling beside him, you grabbed the instruction manual, skimming over it quickly. “you’re hopeless,” you teased, nudging him gently with your shoulder.

“hopeless?” he echoed, pretending to be offended. “i got us this far, didn’t i?”

“barely,” you retorted with a smirk, handing him a screwdriver.

as you worked together on the table, the soft hum of music from your phone filled the background. the moment was calm, but it felt familiar, like it always had when you were with jake. comfortable, easy.

“i was thinking about something earlier,” jake said after a quiet pause.

“oh yeah?” you glanced up at him as you tightened one of the screws.

“the night we met. at that party. you remember it?” He leaned back slightly, reminiscing with a small smile tugging at his lips.

you rolled your eyes playfully. “how could I forget? you were the only guy there not trying to impress people.”

jake laughed, shaking his head. “i was definitely trying to impress you. i just didn’t know how.”

you grinned at the memory, sitting back on your heels. “really? because i distinctly remember you spilling your drink all over your shoes when you tried to come over and talk to me.”

he winced. “okay, yeah, that was not my smoothest moment. but hey, you laughed. that was a win in my book.”

“i laughed because you were adorable. completely flustered,” you said, nudging him again.

he chuckled, running a hand through his hair. “i had no idea what to say. you looked so cool, like you had everything figured out. i was just the guy trying not to trip over his own feet.”

“you were cute,” you admitted with a soft smile. “i remember thinking you were different from everyone else there. you weren’t trying too hard, and you weren’t putting on an act. that’s what i liked.”

jake’s smile softened as he met your gaze. “and now look at us. from that messy party to... this.”

he gestured around the apartment, the boxes, the half-assembled furniture, and the growing life you two were creating together.

“it’s crazy, isn’t it?” you said, leaning against him. “If someone told me that night we’d be living together, I would’ve never believed them.”

“i had a feeling,” he said softly. “i mean, i didn’t know it then, but there was something about you. even from that first awkward conversation, i knew i didn’t want it to be the last.”

you looked at him, your heart swelling with affection. “i’m glad you didn’t give up after the drink spill.”

“hey, it was part of my charm,” jake teased with a grin, squeezing your hand.

“sure, let’s call it that,” you joked, resting your head on his shoulder.

jake wrapped his arm around you, pulling you close as you both sat back, admiring the space that was slowly becoming your shared home. the silence between you was comfortable, like a warm blanket of memories.

“i still can’t believe how nervous I was to ask you out that morning,” jake said after a while, his voice filled with amusement. “i was convinced you’d say no.”

you laughed. “how could i? after all that... there was no way I was letting you get away.”

he leaned in, kissing the top of your head gently. “well, good thing you didn’t. because this... all of this feels right.”

you smiled, closing your eyes as you sank into the moment. “yeah. it does.”

as you sat there together, the apartment around you still in progress, you realized that it didn’t matter if things were perfect. the only thing that mattered was that you were building it together. from that party where you first met to this shared life, every step along the way had brought you closer, turning small moments into something lasting and real.

and as jake pulled you even closer, you knew that this was just the beginning of everything you both still had to look forward to.

715 notes · View notes

orchidyoonkook · 11 months

Text

The Devil Wears Valentino | MYG

Title: The Devil Wears Valentino

Pairing: Devil!Min Yoongi x (F)!Reader

Rating//Genre: (M) | One Shot, Spooky AU, Supernatural Creatures AU, Not Quite Friends to Lovers, Age Gap, Technically Slice of Life, Angst, Smut and Fluff

Summary: Having known him for years—from a small mistake on your behalf, and a favour on his—you’re one of the only people he seems to be able to put up with for company. Certainly the only one he’s half-way decent with. But what’s more surprising to you is that despite his name, reputation, and the fact he’s always joked he’d have killed anyone else by this point, is that he’s never once tried to cause you harm.

Actually, he’s almost…protective of you. In his own weird way.

And obnoxiously flirty.

Warnings: language, violence, tae is a menance, drinking and alcohol, Min Yoongi as the Devil -> Lucifer Morningstar? we dont know him, mentions of murder, mentions of torture, mentions of rape -> Sal's an ass and he deserved what he got, somewhat graphic gore/horror (yoon tries her best but she's not very good at spooky), slight POV switches, one (1) mention of reader having hair, fluffy in parts,

Explicit warnings under the cut.

Word Count: 10,488

Release Date: October 31, 2023, 12:00PM

A/N 1: Ahhhh! Welcome to my very first halloween special!!! I wanted to do something for my favourite holiday this year, and I've had this title written down without a plot for maybe just over a year? So I'm really excited to finally use it!!

A/N 1.5: Thank you to my absolute darling @katykatmeow for beta'ing this for me so late in the night. I adore you so much

A/N 2: The whiskey glass and whiskey are hand drawn vectors because I'm a glutton for punishment. Why do I keep doing this to myself.

Explicit Warnings: ahaha uhhh, unprotected sex (dont be stupid) kissing, breast play, fingering, oral (f rec), groping, pet names (sickening amount), dirty talk, praise, slight degredation, hair pulling (m rec), spitting, handjob, body worship, cowgirl, from the back, missionary, a lil bit of crying, spanking, size kink, voice kink, hand kink (look, he's a lot okay, don't blame reader), sl*t/wh*re mentions, multiple orgasms, creampie, I think thats it? Yoon went a little bananas with this one.....

Slow jazz floats through the air of the club, wading around the modestly-sized venue. You’d say it was almost cozy, but with the expensive feel of the place, cozy just didn’t seem like the right word.

Intimate. That would be a better choice.

From behind the bar where you stand, to the velvet couches in the back covered by decently dressed lesser demons, piano plays alongside gentle drums. Dark navy cushions soak in their conversation of effective torture methods, discussed like stock market trends, they dissect the best way to decapitate someone so you can instill the most pain and suffering.

The answer is always with a dull knife and from the back, blindly. Never knowing when the next cut will be is half the agony.

You try not to pay attention to that though, because the only thing you need to know is that they drink Vodka Tonics and lesser demon number four’s glass is looking to be on the emptier side.

He’ll be back for another soon.

While you wait for his arrival, the rhythmic notes continue on, gliding along shiny, black floor tiles. They pass the burgundy leather booths that face the stage, full of vampires trying to relive long lost youth in the old melodies played. They turn to stone just a little bit more with every passing minute they’re forced to live, keeping no company besides the pleasant burn down their throats and ever present melancholy.

Banshees listen in from the mezzanine, only ever soft spoken when they’re here. Covered by velvet draped ceilings that dampen sounds to the outside world, the women of three distinct ages sit at tall tables. The young in heels and short dresses, proudly showing off their youth, while the elders choose more elegant wares, content as they can be in their skin, considering their blood soaked pasts.

Banshees tend to discuss privately amongst themselves, ordering walk up service so as to never mingle with the men on the floor. You can’t blame them, especially knowing how they all got here in the first place, but they’re polite when they enter, greeting you kindly despite what you are to them. The trays you bring up for them never waver from their drink of choice, The Irish Sour.

And then there are the Djinn, who come in mostly just to pass the time. Sitting by themselves at the bar, or in no more than groups of two at a far table, they never interact with anyone other than the bartender or themselves. Djinn are increasingly solitary creatures of the night, with the fear of their kind lessening in mortals, you’re starting to see less and less of them as the days pass, and you’re almost sad to see them go.

Djinn are your favourites. They come in, order, keep to themselves, and then leave. It’s a nice change from the usual light conversation you’re forced to keep with patrons. Plus their orders are always easiest, as they only drink virgin. It’s a bit of a blow to the bar aspect of the establishment, but they come for the atmosphere, grateful to have a place they can exist with like minded folk—even if they don’t interact. There’s a comfort in familiarity, you guess.

Occasionally some other creatures of the night mix into the masses; fae, chimera, leprechauns, goblins, et cetera. All dressed in their nicest clothes to accommodate your work's dress code, all here for peace from their day jobs, to drown their sorrows, or somewhere in between.

Some come for an hour, others come for the night, but it’s mostly just your regulars who tend to remain, as do their drink orders. It’s a relatively easy job, and you don’t mind the company.

Most of the time.

You’ve just finished serving the lesser demon from earlier when your coworker bugs you for the hundredth time tonight.

“I don’t get why you're so hellbent on this, Y/N. If you’re closing, he’s coming. Because he always comes when you're closing. It’s simple math.”

“No he doesn't,” you dismiss Taehyung, a cocky but rather beautiful incubi, annoyedly. Taehyung is the type that knows he’s pretty and uses it to his every advantage, including being able to say whatever he wants and get away with it. And it would piss you off except it works on you too.

Fucking incubi demons…

You were one of only two mortal bartenders, the other being Lia, a cute blond who only works here for the tips. The boss likes to keep a couple humans on staff in case any wanderers stupid enough to come inside a den of nocturnal, evil creatures didn’t catch the vibe and immediately fuck off.

You’d be surprised at how shitty some people's self preservation instincts are.

You asked your boss once—a very large, very well built, very well connected vampire—why he bothered having a layer of protection for them. His only response was: “Business is business.”

Plus he knows he can’t have a trail of bodies that lead directly to his club's front steps, so he keeps a couple of mortals around just in case. This way, with you two here, there was always someone who knew all the drinks the humans could have, and someone to keep all the greedy eyes around the venue in check, as you have banning and kicking out privileges.

Because where you saw Kin, your regulars saw food, a hunt, or a job. They saw something to be taken advantage of or killed. They saw poor, weak, pathetic little mortals that should’ve been eradicated centuries ago had their ancestors been smarter.

They are the superior beings in their eyes, your race is just a bug to be squashed under their proverbial boot.

It makes you worry what they think of you. Is the only thing that stops them from devouring you whole the fact that you make their drinks just the way they like it, that you have a use in serving them? Or do they respect you enough now that you understand how to act around them and know what they’re like? What they are.

You worry, but you’ll never know the truth because you aren’t stupid enough to ask and show weakness. They can smell that shit from a mile away, and all it does is paint a 30 foot wide target on your back.

“Yes he does. I bet you tonight's tips he’ll be here in the next two hours,” Taehyung presses.

And ooohh, a night’s worth of tips, bragging rights, and winning a bet against Tae all sound way too good damn to pass up.

“You’re delusional,” you say, holding out a hand. Tae grabs and shakes, as you agree to his terms. “And you’re on, don’t come crying when you lose.”

There’s no way he’ll show up. It’s Friday night, the night of sin, he’s going to be up to his eyeballs with work…stuff.

“Easiest money I’ve ever made,” Taehyung grins, and with the confidence in which he does, you begin to second guess your own.

It’s not that you did or didn’t want him to show up, it’s just that your relationship with him is…complicated at best. You never really knew how to navigate a conversation with him outside of surface level banter and jokes, but it’s always been like that with you two.

Having known him for years—from a small mistake on your behalf, and a favour on his—you’re one of the only people he seems to be able to put up with for company. Certainly the only one he’s half-way decent with. But what’s more surprising to you is that despite his name, reputation, and the fact he’s always joked he’d have killed anyone else by this point, is that he’s never once tried to cause you harm.

Actually, he’s almost…protective of you. In his own weird way.

And obnoxiously flirty.

But you could never. Not with who and what you are, and who and what he is.

Regardless of how you fight the heat down in your cheeks every time you see him, and how your heart flutters against your will in multiple places in your body at even the thought of being near him.

Regardless of the fact that you shut him down every time he suggests anything more than an over the bar conversation, and the way your panties seem to always dampen in his presenc–fuck.

It’s happening again. Stop thinking about it, stop, stop st��wait. You turn, seeing the violet ichor in Tae’s eyes and you know the bitch is using his power on you. You flip the asshole off and he chuckles.

He’s been trying to get you to change your mind ever since the first time he saw you deny yourself.

“You know I can tell when you’re hot and bothered right? Incubus, remember? It’s literally part of who I am.”

To which you think again, fucking incubi…

Your most infamous regular is, to quote your favourite tv show, ‘the bane of your existence and the object of all your desires,’ and you will never, ever entertain his annoying, disgustingly hot ass more than you already do. Not after everything you went through the first—and last—time with a creature of the night.

You learned your lesson.

So instead, you try to think of him more like an old friend. The kind that’s actually really old already, but looks amazing for his age. The kind that makes shivers run up your spine when he talks to you in the deepest, most gravel turning voice you’ve ever heard, that you also ignore out of pure self preservation. He’s the kind that you shove out of your thoughts at night when your alone and in desperate need of relie—Fucking Taehyung!

You whip your head around to search for the violet eyed incubus, only to see him across the bar helping some stocky vampire. And you’re about a hair's breadth away from ripping him a new one in front of said vampire when the idle hum of chatter in the bar ceases and the band’s calming music falters into missed notes and a cymbal crash that's too hard; awkward, painful silence remaining.

From behind you, you can hear the front door close, followed by light footsteps that grow louder and louder. Only once the seat directly behind you creaks with the sound of being occupied, does the chatter and music resume.

Which can only mean one fucking thing.

You just lost all your tips for the night.

Tae’s shit eating grin as he looks over your shoulder confirms it.

Fuck.

“Excuse me,” the bottom of the ocean floor speaks and you make a conscious effort not to react.

“Ardbeg Single Malt, neat?” You throw over your shoulder, not bothering to look just yet.

You know precisely where he sits. And he knows you know.

“Sounds perfect,” he responds, and you focus on ‘looking for the bottle.’

You know exactly where it is.

No one else will touch it.

Taehyung busies himself with bringing an order of Bloody Mary’s down to a booth on the floor, knowing he’ll be burned alive if he so much as looks at a whiskey glass.

No one serves him but you.

But more importantly, nobody disrespects you in front of him. A lesson your ex–see: dead–coworker, Sal, learned the hard way. His burn mark is still seared onto the floor behind you.

You’d almost felt bad that day, but he was a lust demon who touched you without your permission, hit on you every five minutes, and when you said no, treated you like shit.

You’d been close to dousing him with vodka and lighting him up yourself, but the man tapping his fingers on the bar behind you beat you to it 15 seconds after sitting down one night last year.

After shoving Sal off you for the fourth time that night, he was pissed. Whispering obscenities to himself loud enough so you would hear,

“Fucking stupid mortal bitch, maybe next time I’ll just drag you into an alley do whatever the fuck I want. Nobody here’s going to stop me. And maybe then you’ll learn to shut up with this dick in your cunt and my fingers down your throat, huh? Leave you to rot with the garbage where you belong after you’re all used up.”

He didn’t take another breath.

A single burst of blistering flame had Sal reduced to ashes in seconds. You’d felt the heat from it, but your skin remained burn free, safe from its dangerous blaze. The lust demon from then on only existed as a smudge on the ground to be walked over.

“Thanks,” You’d said.

“It’s where he belongs,” he responded.

Grateful for his kindness, you entertained him more than usual that night. Engaged in an actual conversation, about your birthday of all things. You had no idea why he wanted to know, but you considered the information his reward for helping you, and he seemed pleased with it.

But he was more than pleased.

After years, you’d revealed something to him. Something personal.

He took it as a sign that he might be able to get you to change your mind one day, if he did everything just right. Having played the long game before, this was no different. The only thing different this time, was you.

Maybe it was the way you walked with such confidence, or the way you never cowered in fear around him. Not the day you met nor any day after. Or maybe you were sent by his father just to mess with his head. He didn’t care. All he knew was what he wanted, and that he was more than willing to wait as long as was needed to get it.

A nursery rhyme from your childhood plays in your head every time you see him. It never wavers, just like the eyes you can feel on the back of your neck, watching your experienced hands make his drink.

Quietly, you recite it to yourself while you grab the bottle;

‘One for sorrow,

Two for joy,

Three for a girl,

Four for a boy,

Five for silver,

Six for gold,

Seven for a secret never to be told.’

You pour, steady hand making it last as long as you possibly can to gain a few more seconds to compose yourself.

‘Eight for a wish,

Nine for a kiss,

Ten a surprise you should be careful not to miss,

Eleven for health,

Twelve for wealth,’

You put the bottle down and cork it before returning it to its place on the shelf. Taking a deep breath, you turn to finally face him, and change the wording of the last line to fit your situation better.

“One Ardbeg Single Malt neat, for the Devil himself.”

He snickers, “I always liked that nursery rhyme. It’s cute. Like you, Angel.”

You roll your eyes. To anyone else that would sound like a compliment. But coming from the Devil it’s more of an insult. One you know is meant in a playful way after all these years, crass in his humour, just like you. And you know he can take a little heat back.

“Wow, that’s a classic,” you grab a glass to polish, keeping your hands busy so they don’t do something stupid while you’re distracted. “Got one of those for you too, ‘Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?’”

He chokes on a laugh before straightening on the barstool and putting on a face. “I don’t think that joke’s appropriate.”

“Oh come on Yoongi, you come at me with ‘It’s cute, like you, Angel’ and I can’t poke back?” You ask, knowing full well his uncomfortable look is all an act. “I thought you didn’t have any feelings besides rage, lust and currently; insufferable flirting.”

You know the entire club listens in to your conversation.

No one calls the Devil by his first name.

Nobody speaks to the Devil unless spoken to.

And no one makes jokes at the Devil’s expense and lives.

No one except you.

What a funny little exception you are.

Yoongi drops the act, a sly smirk that sends bubbles to your brain, replacing it. “So you admit my flirting isn’t always bad. Must be doing something right then.”

You force yourself not to slam a palm into your forehead. Of course that’s what he got out of your sentence.

You aren’t going to make his ego any bigger than it already is.

“It isn’t working,”—fuck, yes it is—“if that’s what you’re asking. Can’t say I’m surprised though, I hear you’ve been out of the game for a couple millenia,” he quirks a brow at that.

Ooo, that means you’re nearing thin ice, haven't been there in a while…Let’s see if you can slide around a bit more without falling in.

“I mean, I’m sure you’ll get there eventually. If you stay consistent at your current rate of progress you could hit me up in,” you suck air in through your teeth and look at the ceiling, before checking a watch you don’t wear, pretending to think, “a thousand years?” You tease, a lilt in your tone. Because if Yoongi was going to make your shift this fucking difficult just by breathing near you, then you sure as Hell can do the same for his night.

He chuckles like the coals of a fire and you cross your legs behind the bar. Motherfucker…

“Someones got a mouth on them tonight,” he says, looking directly into your eyes as he takes his first sip, savouring the taste before swallowing. His tongue dips to his bottom lip for any remnants and you gulp, vision dropping for a millisecond—oh for the love of—and you finally notice what he’s wearing.

Much to your dismay and dwindling willpower, he looks fucking good. With only a white scarf to accent, the all black Valentino suit fits in perfectly with the bar’s dress code, as well as the long slicked back hair he’s only recently started to grow out. Just seeing it like this makes you want to run your hands through and mess it up.

You’ve always had a thing for men with long hair, ever since you were young.

Jack Sparrow, Madmartigan, even The Winter Soldier. And come to think of it, none of them were exactly the good guys in their respective universes either…

Nope! No. You can’t. You can’t.

You can’t for so many reasons, so many good and bad and everything in between reasons. You’re nothing more than a flimsy human while he’s the Great Immortal Evil. The person people whisper the name of for fear of incurring his wrath.

The King of Hell.

He’s the person that walks into a room and everyone balks under his gaze, terrified of what he may do. He’s killed millions with no mercy. Doesn’t so much as think twice to horrifically burn someone where they stand to ash in hellfire for breathing the wrong way near him. He lavishes in the screams of sinners, punished in their own blood and bones, beaten into a shell of who they were in the nine circles of Hell. Left gaping, broken and sobbing in agony for their suffering to end.

Yoongi is walking nightmares and visceral terror. He is merciless violence and brutality abandon.

Yoongi is living, breathing, unyielding death wrapped up in deceivingly beautiful packaging.

He is the epitome of someone you should not like, should not go near, and definitely should not want in the way the thrumming in your bones is telling you, you want him.

You have to stay away from him.

But that doesn’t mean you can’t flirt back a little.

As salaciously as you can muster, you whisper low, “But it’s nothing you can’t handle,” and you swear you see a hint of surprise in Yoongi’s eyes, followed by something so much deeper that you have to look away under the guise of checking for any newcomers.

It’s a dangerous game you’re playing. One you need to move the pieces of very, very carefully.

There’s a handful of people waiting to be served, but none disturb Yoongi’s service. So you’re forced and relieved to cut the interaction short. For both the waiting patrons, and your sanity.

“Enjoy the whiskey, Yoongi.”

Yoongi doesn’t bother you for the rest of the night, instead he watches you help the other patrons and make drinks. No one dares sit within three seats of him on either side, so the booths and tables fill more than the bar does, forcing you to do more tray work than you like. And you think you can feel those eyes on the back of your neck travel elsewhere.

Soon after he takes his last sip, Yoongi leaves far too much cash on the table to cover a single drink, and you know Tae won’t include it in tonight's bet. He rather enjoys being alive.

The first time he did this you tried to give it back, insisting it was too much. But one threat to Tae’s life had you accepting the outrageous amount he left you every time. Despite how much he gets on your nerves, you rather enjoy Taehyung's company on your shifts. And you didn’t want to risk having a new coworker like Sal again.

Thank you, Yoongi. You silently think to yourself every time he does. His tips are one of the only reasons you’re able to take care of yourself so well.

You live in an apartment you should not be able to afford on a bartender's wage. Eat well, buy all the brand name products for the skin care routine you could only dream of having as a teenager, and you’re able to get yourself a little treat every once in a while.

All thanks to the one man the world claimed was the purest entity of evil there was.

And maybe he is.

But not to you.

The rest of your night, and closing go smoothly. The journey home passes by in a flash and soon you’re flopping into your bed, asleep before you hit the pillow.

You dream of Yoongi and Hellfire and things only your subconscious will let you. The thoughts that you force away every time you see him.

The burn of his hands on your skin and his lips on your neck. The warmth that spreads over your entire body at the mere mention of your name from his lips. His tongue in places you wouldn’t dare allow him to even think about in the waking world.

And you wake from an orgasm he wasn't in the waking world to give you.

It’s the last Saturday in October, which means it’s also your birthday.

You found it rather funny that the one person the Devil could stand to conversate with was born on his night. Maybe that’s coincidence or maybe that’s fate, either way you didn’t care, because you had it booked off work and you were going to a bar and dancing with your friends, dressed up in the sluttiest costumes you could find.

Your recent visit with your birthday's namesake inspired your costume this year. Wearing the shortest, blood red leather dress you could find, the slits up the sides ran almost to your hips, and a corseted waist that made you feel sexy and fierce. You’d paired it with some velvet horns, a tail, pitchfork, crimson lace stockings and your most recent edition; red bottomed strappy stilettos.

They’d been your birthday present to yourself, courtesy of Yoongi’s most recent tip. And needless to say, you felt hot as shit. No one could tear you down tonight.

All your friends met at your house before ridesharing down to a club. It’s loud, hazy, and filled with other Devil’s Night party goers as you arrive, smoke lingering in the air and you can feel the wave of dancing coming from further inside.

Someone buys you your first round within a minute of being let in, lemon drop filling your taste buds as you knock back the shot. Another is ordered immediately after the first, it runs smoother and tastes like chocolate as you make your way to the dance floor.

Aside from you, your friends are dressed up as a wild mix of characters. Rey is dressed as Daphne from Scooby Doo, Yaejin is Nezuko from Demon Slayer, Bryce is a gender bent Legolas from Lord of the Rings, Declan is Donatello from the Ninja Turtles, Cam is a ghost, and Trin is a character from a book you’ve never read. Something about dragons and magic and vermin—or was it venin? Whatever. But they were in all black and had used silver hair spray on the tips of their hair.

You let the alcohol make its way through your veins as you dance, loosening up. The DJ mixes songs together in a way that never has the crowd thinning out and you laugh as you move with your friends, swaying and rocking and grinding.

You needed this.

A night out just to let go, have fun, forget everything and hopefully get lucky by the end of it. It’s been a while since you’ve taken anyone to bed, and birthday sex sounds amazing the more the lemon drop, and what you finally learned was a tootsie roll shot, settle into your system.

You aren’t drunk by any means, but you are buzzed and having a blast. An orgasm sounds like the only thing that could possibly make this night any better. So you make your way around the dance floor, keeping one eye open for any potentials, but mostly just dancing with Rey and Cam. The others either grabbing another drink back at the bar or resting their legs in a booth.

“Babe,” Rey says, hands around your neck with Cam behind you, hands on your hips. You all sway to the beat of the admittedly sensual song playing.

“Yeah?” You ask, opening your eyes to meet hers and she leans in closer.

You can hear the smile on her lips, “Major tall, dark and handsome at 9 o'clock has been eyeing you for at least a half hour. I say you ditch me and Cam and go enthrall the man with your company for a little while. We’ll be fine on our own.”

Heating at her words you’re excited to see who’s gone and done half your job for you tonight when your eyes stop dead on target.

In a private booth in the VIP section, blending in far too well with the mortals around him, he wears a button down black satin top and dress pants. Thick silver links adorn his neck, complimenting the hoops in his lobes as well as the mouth watering rings on his fingers and you’re quite sure the bottoms of his black leather shoes match the red of your own.

Yoongi.

God he looks good. Unfairly so. And he carries that knowledge with him in his movement. His confidence never wavering like a mortal’s would.

Aside from two twisting black horns you’ve never seen before protruding from his deliciously tousled hair—hair you still want to pull on until he’s making sounds no ones ever heard come out of his mouth before, now moreso than ever—Yoongi is a darker version of yourself.

Except for him, it isn’t a costume, it’s real, real, real.

And he looks like sin incarnate.

Fitting.

Fuck, you’re so screwed. What were all those reasons it could never work again? The ones that explain why you shouldn’t take the Devil home and let him fuck you into next Sunday?

Suddenly, you can’t remember any of them. Not when Yoongi’s eyes never leave your red-clad form as he sips on what you know to be subpar whiskey. Your core melts into lava at the way he looks up and down, taking all of you in like you’re the one thing on this planet he needs to survive, and he’ll stop at nothing and spare absolutely no one until he gets you.

Rey gives Cam a look and their hands drop, allowing you to almost float over to where Yoongi lounges, maneuvering between bodies undulating to music that’s being deafened by the heartbeat in your ears.

When you reach him, you leave a somewhat respectable distance between you two, a step down from the dias the booth sits on.

Seeing him so much clearer now, you almost whine. How does he look even better up close? You want to sit on his lap, his face, have him bend you over the table then flip you over and feast like a man starved.

Fuck! No, you can’t. And you also can’t blame Tae for those thoughts either, he isn’t here.

They were all you.

Maybe his plan was working after all…

“What are you doing here?” You manage, grateful that you hadn’t had more to drink, but even more grateful for the ones you did. You needed a little liquid courage right now, even if it turned your thoughts into gutter sewage.

What he doesn’t know can’t hurt you…right? You just have to keep a lid on it. The one that’s loosening the more you look at him.

“It’s your birthday,” he says, producing a small black box wrapped with a bow. “I have a gift.”

He…he got you a present? He’s never done that before. But then again, before last year, he never knew when it was.

“You remem—I—you didn’t have to get me anything,” you stutter ungracefully, mouth trying to keep up with your racing thoughts. “I already got these shoes with the tip you left me last time,” you say, extending your leg to show off your newest purchase. The action reveals more leg than you meant it too and he catches the garter you have pulled around your thigh.

A fire ignites in his eyes at the sight, and you can feel their sparks everywhere he looks. Starting at your toes and moving all the way up back to your pretty irises.

“I’m flattered by the way,” he says. “In your costume choice.”

Huh? You look down and heat rises to your cheeks in a way it never has before. Oh fuck, oh fuck. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!

Here you stand, before the actual Devil—horns out in all their glory—dressed as him on his namesake night.

Of course this would happen to you, of course it would. This is what you get for fucking around. You found out. And you don’t know whether to be mortified, beg for forgiveness, or laugh yourself hoarse.

Going with none of the above, you choose to play it off instead, the way you always do when he manages to fluster you. “Consider me inspired by how recently I last saw you,” you say, taking the single step up the dias and twirling for him.

You show every angle of your costume you can, letting the booze in your system do its job of making you more confident than you currently are.

“What do you think?”

Yoongi stands, taking the two strides needed to be face to face with you, his voice is quiet and even, so only you can hear.

“May I touch?”

You don’t hesitate.

“Yes.”

Yoongi reaches behind you and pulls the fake tail from the back of your dress, then the pitchfork from your grasp and throws them into the booth, not caring where they land.

“Mmm,” he hums, placing his hands on your hips and spinning you once more. Lightning strikes every single nerve ending where his fingertips meet your body.

This time when he speaks, his voice is touched with the bit of demon that’s inside of him, dragging its claws along the floor of the 9th circle of Hell as he growls, “You’re perfect.”

Your heart does backflips and cartwheels and nose dives all at once. You’ve never heard him sound like that before, and if your panties weren’t wet before, they definitely are now.

Tugging gently, he guides you to the booth, sitting first before dragging you over his lap, knees meeting his hips. One of his hands rests on your thigh while the other reaches for something you can’t be bothered to figure out because oh my god, oh my god, you’re straddling him. Your straddling the Devil, dressed as the devil and probably already looking semi-fucked out while you do. This is probably a bad idea—no. This is definitely a bad idea. But you also have absolutely zero plans to stop literally anything that’s happening.

The gift box makes a reappearance, and he hands it over to you.

“Thank you,” you say automatically, trying and failing to ignore the fact that both of his hands now rest on your thighs. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck…..

Undoing the little black bow, you open it, revealing a delicately simple necklace. Its light weight chain holding a small pink stone pendant.

Beautiful.

“Pink Tourmaline,” Yoongi says.

“My birthstone,” you reply.

“Your birthstone.”

You stare at the little crystal, cut and polished to perfection. Not a single flaw.

“Yoongi I—I don’t know what to say. It’s incredible…Thank you,” you take it out of the box, profoundly grateful you decided not to wear a necklace tonight. “Could you help me put it on?”

“Of course, Angel,” he agrees. But this time when he says your nickname, it’s different. Like an unholy vow made only to you.

Makes you wonder what he promised.

Regretfully removing yourself from his lap, you turn around, only to be dragged back down by strong fingers.

Your ass is now flush against his dick, and it’s taking everything in you not to tease. Whether you’d be teasing him or yourself, you don't know, nor do you care. All you know is that friction can be a good thing if you want it to be. And you're starting to want it to be.

Lifting your hair for him, Yoongi fastens the necklace around your column, and to your complete and utter doom, places a gentle kiss at your nape. The simple contact makes you quietly moan, and you feel a twitch under you.

Ohhh, this is bad, this is so bad. But you can’t bring yourself to stop him. Not when his hands roam up and down your back, your sides, your hips. Exploring, feeling, learning. You dissolve into the touch, welcoming every whisper of pleasure they bring.

What is he doing to you?

“Angel,” Yoongi purrs in your ear.

“Mmm?”

“Would you like to dance?”

Fuck would you ever, but wait—

“Are you asking me if I’d like to Dance with the Devil?” you muse.

Yoongi chuckles lowly, understanding the meaning behind your ask.

“Is that something you’d be interested in?”

“Yes.”

You feel more than hear the dark rumble coming from his chest before he gently taps on your thigh. And you get up quickly.

“That’s a good girl,” he says, and fuck could you ever get used to him saying that to you.

Fingers laced in his, he lets you guide him to the dance floor.

Both of you ignore what the DJ plays, instead moving to the rhythm you feel like. Slow, sensual, a hand on his neck while you grind into him. Fast and heated, bodies touching any and every place you can get contact. You’re putting on quite the show for anyone brave enough to watch. And you know at least a handful of the eyes you feel on you are your friends’.

They don’t know about Yoongi.

They don’t know about the nature of the clientele at your job either, like every other human. They don’t know you're dancing with the most dangerous and volatile man in the room. And it’s better that way, because if they did, your ass would’ve been hauled out of the club and in a rideshare the second anyone saw him.

You’ve never been more thankful for the figurative wall between worlds. And the fact that you stand on both sides.

You brush up against his hardening dick and fuck, that’s it.

You’ve decided.

To hell with your reasons. To hell with the constant flirting and overuse of will power.

To hell with letting your anxieties and your moral compass and your conscience get in the way of the one thing you’ve been denying yourself for years.

You spin in Yoongi’s hold, looking straight into the darkened eyes of the most forbidden man you could ever want for yourself, only to see pure desire staring right back. It’s all you need before you’re crashing your lips to his, taking anything and everything you can get before one of you comes to your senses and pulls back.

But his grip on you tightens like a vice, pulling you closer, bodies flush amidst the dancing crowd. He’s magnetic in his want, lifting a hand to the back of your neck and tracing the seam of your lips with his tongue.

You let him in without hesitation and he nearly swallows you whole with how he invades your mouth, claiming it for himself. It makes you moan and he lets up, if only to let you breathe for a moment, and you take this reprieve to whisper in his ear, finally giving in to what you crave more than anything.

“Let’s go to yours.”

“We should go to yours, Angel, mine’s a bit harder to get to.”

Because his is on another plane of existence. Not exactly a taxi ride away. At least not one you can get at the curb of the club.

“Riiight.” A small dose of water washes over the fire in your core, and it’s like he can sense it because immediately, he’s pulling you back in. Nothing but teeth and lips and tongue, animalistic in the passion you’re displaying for everyone to see, the flames increasing tenfold.

Fuck, you don’t want to wait.

And apparently neither does Yoongi.

“Do you trust me?” He asks.

“Yes, but what does tha–”

“Close your eyes for me, Love.”

Any and all arguments fade on your tongue at the new pet name. So much warmer than Angel, so much more affectionate.

So you close your eyes for him, no questions asked. Because you trust him. You trust the Devil.

You trust Yoongi.

“That's a good girl.”

One hand goes to the back of your neck, the other your lower back as he kisses you gently. So gently you think it means something more, but the sounds of the club are fading away, and he’s leaning you down like he’s going to dip you before your back meets something soft.

Are you closer to a booth than you thought? Is he really going to take you here in front of all those people?

But when you open your eyes and your bedroom at your apartment fills your vision, you stiffen immediately.

What?

“I—but we were just—and now we’re he—and you—,” you stutter, amazed and unable to get the thoughts out fast enough before another takes its place. You manage a, “How?” and he catches on.

Not halting his actions, “Consider it a job perk,” he explains, nipping at your neck. You let out a groan as he continues his way down your column towards your chest and you relax into his touch.

“Teleportation, in simple terms, but it’s a bit more complicated than that.”

Despite his mouth on your skin, you somehow find the clearness of mind to ask, “Did anyone see?” Thinking about your friends and the potential hundreds of onlookers.

Yoongi’s hands rest at top of the zipper that goes the entire length of your dress, allowing for both easy putting on and quick removal. Fingers tug gently on the slider, eyes meeting yours for consent. You nod, and he answers your question as he drags it down your body torturously slow, savouring every moment he’s worked so hard to get.

He’s going to earn this privilege you’ve given him, if it's the last thing he does.

“No. And your friends won’t worry either.”

You don’t care how he knows that, not when he’s pulling off hot leather and devouring your curves with coal burning pupils. The cool air of your room causes goosebumps to rise everywhere, and your arms fly to your head, covering your eyes as you’re reminded you’d forgone a bra tonight.

There was no room for one without it squishing your tits too much and ruining the look. So with your dress gone, Yoongi has a front row seat to your nearly nude form, a blood red lace thong the only thing keeping you semi-decent.

Years of pining and denial have led up to this moment and Yoongi almost doesn’t know where to start now that he finally has you exactly where he wants you. That feeling doesn’t last long though.

Wasting no more time, he takes a breast into his palm, squeezing and massaging while he lowers himself to the other, lapping the nipple of the one neglected. His tongue swirls over the pert bud, sucking it into his mouth fully and you arch into his touch, reveling in the warmth he spreads across your chest. Hands reaching for the sheets above your head for something to ground you.

“Shit,” you can already feel your pulse in your ears, thundering behind your sternum, and booming lower. He’s barely touched you and you’re already so gone.

He switches his hand and mouth, soothing the other breast with the sinful muscle he’s teased you with after all these years drinking whiskey. And by god if you don’t immediately think what it could do in other places. He’s had thousands of years to practice and the gush you feel in your panties lets you know exactly how you feel about the idea.

Using his free hand, Yoongi traces down your back, rounding your ass and squeezing hard enough to make you hiss in pleasure before settling on the back of your thigh.

You can barely stand having his hands so close to your molten heat without having any contact, and it leaves you begging, “Please…Please…”

You feel the curve of his lip quirk as teeth gently scrape the sensitive bud, gasping when he pulls off.

“Please what, Love?”

“More,” you pant. “Please. Anything. Everything. Please just touch me.”

“Mmm,” he’s back at your neck, inhaling your scent, one hand still on your thigh while the other holds him up by your ear. “Pretty Girl has manners after all, huh?”

“Oh fuck you.” you bristle, but it seems to be the reaction he’s looking for. A deeper, sluttier part of you awakening at the words you want to prove both wrong and right.

“There she is.”

Diving back into your neck, Yoongi trails wet, open mouthed kisses down, down, down. And even though you’ve never been so wet, so in the moment, and so unbelievably turned on before, the human part of you wins for a second, as you try to close your legs.

They’re pulled back open in an instant, his eyes never wavering from yours as he says, “Don’t you dare get shy on me now,” a kiss to your inner thigh. And then the other as he kneels before you.

Yoongi places each foot on either of his shoulders and you’re surprised he’s kept on your garter, stockings and red bottoms, their heels digging into his flesh. You wonder if that hurts at all, but by the way his eyes flutter and almost roll into the back of his head at the pressure they place on his frame, you think he actually likes their sting.

“You’re the most exquisite creature I have ever seen. Absolutely no part of you could ever be undesirable to me.”

His earnest tone makes you believe him, convinces you, and you’re once again pliant in his hold, opening up for him.

“Look at me,” he says, and you do. You stare directly at the Devil between your thighs. The King knelt before your lowly mortal form. “You are the most powerful person in this room, understand?”

You nod, but that’s not good enough for him.

“I need to hear it.”

“I understand.”

“Understand what?” He pushes.

“I’m the most powerful person in this room,” and it feels bold to say in front of him. But watching the way Yoongi’s expression fills with pride makes it also feel good. He wants you to feel like you’re the one in charge.

“Remember that,” he says, before ripping your underwear off and throwing them on the floor, feasting his now wholly black eyes on the sight of your dripping pussy.

The more he loses himself in you, the more of his true form reveals itself.

“Fuuuckk,” he whispers more to himself than anything. “So wet…”

Your core is tormented and throbbing at the back and forth between the cold night air and Yoongi’s hot breath and you whine, “I just bought those!”

He spares you one completely unsympathetic look.

“Don’t care. I’ll buy you more,” a deliciously ringed finger slides along your drenched folds and you’re gasping. “I’ll buy you the entire fucking store if it means I get to see you like this.”

Your voice is airy as you give in, any and all outrage gone. “Oka—ohhh!”

His mouth is on your cunt before you can breathe in the oxygen you so desperately need. He’s not holding back and your movements are not your own as you squirm. An arm rounds your pelvis holds you down, keeping you there as he devours you whole and shows you no mercy.

“Fuck, fuck, oh my god Yoongi,” you cry out, having never felt anything like this before. His tongue circles your clit as he sucks, then glides down, penetrating your opening with thrusts that make you lightheaded.

Your hands fly to his locks, pulling and pushing him down further until you're pretty sure you’re drowning him in you. Your fingertips graze his horns and it’s just a reminder that this man is definitely not human. Definitely not someone you should be letting suck your soul out through your pussy. And that makes this whole situation that much hotter.

If he minds where you touch, he doesn’t say anything about it, only groaning as he repeats his motions to get you near your peak, again and again and again until you're quaking against your will and your body is vibrating with every throb from your core.

Every single nerve ending you have is awake and being put to good use, he’s making sure of it. The dam that holds your release is starting to crumble and you don’t know how much longer you can last like this before you’re screaming bloody murder under his grip.

“Yoon…Yoongi—fuck,” you stutter, staggered breaths from your trembling chest loose as you try to verbalize, “C-close. S-so close.”

He hums, and teases a finger around your entrance, circling a few times before pressing in and up to your g-spot. The simple action undoes you and you're coming with a force you can’t even begin to describe. The waves crash down, over and over and you're moaning and cursing his name at the same time, knowing it’s going to be the only one you’ll think of in this situation from now until forever.

He guides you through the last shockwaves as you come down, and when you’re too sensitive for him to continue, you drag him up to your lips, tasting his efforts on your tongue.

“Need you now,” you rush out between kisses.

“Not yet, Love,” he says, pulling back just enough to reach a hand between the two of you.

He slips two fingers inside and swallows the resulting moan from your lips as he goes so deep enough you can feel his rings proding your opening.

“Gotta stretch you out for me first.”

Your hands are back in his hair, nails scratching the nape of his neck as he begins to scissor you open expertly. He growls into your neck at the sensation and that confirms your suspicions of him liking a little pain with his pleasure. So you scratch further down his neck, onto his shoulders and back and you dig a heel into his thigh.

“Fuck, Angel,” fingers stuttering for a second. “Don’t do that unless you want me to come right now.”

“And if I do?”

“Not yet.”

“Why not?”

“Because the first time I come, it’ll be with you around my cock, soaking the sheets with your own.”

Head rolling back, his words going straight to your clit. “Fuck, okay.”

“Now give me another one, Pretty Girl,” he says, picking up speed with his digits. “I know you can, pretty little slut takes my fingers so well.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck…

You can feel it coming this time, building and building. He uses his thumb to rub over your sensitive nub and it has you unraveling under him, screaming out and almost sobbing at the convulsions your body makes. He takes your mouth with his again, consuming your pleasure in every form he can get.

And once you come down, you’ve had it. If you don’t have him inside you within the next 2 minutes you’re going to lose it.

Ripping at his shirt, you're fumbling with the buttons. “Fuck, take this off, and those,” you say, abandoning his shirt for his belt.

Yoongi chuckles, low and sinful, “Bossy,” but gets up, and begins removing the outfit that got you into this situation in the first place. You take off the remnants of your costume as he spares you no peace of mind, the way you did him, taking off his pants and boxers in one go, freeing his mouth watering bulge from its earthy confines.

“Oh fuck me,” you say at his size. He’s big, girthy and you’ve never wanted someone inside you so badly before.

Yoongi smirks as he crawls over you, but you stop him with a hand. “Wait,” you throw a leg over his hip, and flip the two of you so you’re on top. “Let me do this.”

“Whatever you want, Angel.”

Picking up his cock, it sits heavy in your hand as you give him a couple strokes. He hisses at the contact and it only spurs you on, gathering as much saliva as you can, you open your mouth to spit, rubbing it all over his shaft and head, mixing it with the precum dribbling out of the tip.

“Fuck—”

Your 2 minutes are up. Lifting your ass, you guide yourself onto him.

“Oh my fuck, oh fuck,” you say as you slide down slowly, the stretch still very much there as he bottoms out. “Big—ohh, shit—so big.”

Yoongi’s not faring much better, eyebrows pressed together, but eyes devouring the spot where your bodies meet. His breathing is so laboured you’d think he just ran a marathon.

“So tight, Love...Fuck, look at you.”

The delicious sting subsides and you start to move, slow but purposeful thrusts that have him kissing your cervix every time. Fuck he’s so deep, deeper than anyone else has ever been. And once you get a rhythm going there’s no stopping you. You become a force of nature as you bounce on his cock without abandon, taking this for yourself. You don’t know why, but you feel like you have a point to prove and by god you’re going to make it.

Because if the Devil chose you, you’re going to make damn sure he doesn’t regret it.

“Fuck, fuck you’re doing so good,” he rasps, throwing his head back into the pillows, eyes shut in pure bliss, murmuring. “Feels so good.”

His praise pushes you farther, riding harder, grinding your clit against his pelvis, owning both your pleasures.

You’re the most powerful person here.

You are the one in control despite being on top of arguably the most powerful man on the planet. It makes you feel safe and strong and invincible.

And you want to continue, you really do, but your legs are starting to give, so you let him know.

“Ass up for me then,” he says, and you listen, climbing off of him and wincing at the feeling of him slipping out. He gets behind you, lining himself up again and this time it’s much easier as he sinks in, both of you groaning at the contact.

Yoongi hands go to your hips, gripping and squeezing and molding the globes of your ass as you anchor your cheek to the bedsheets.

“That’s it, Pretty Girl, all the way down for me.”

His first thrust has you seeing stars. You're nothing and everything as he continues, but you need more. You need to not be able to speak. To walk. You need to have every thought fucked out of your head. You need him so deep you’ll feel it for a week afterwards.

“Faster,” you beg. “Harder, please.”

“There are those manners I was looking for,” he says and picks up his pace.

You’re incoherent, saying things you’ve never dared to utter out loud before, making admissions you swore to take to your grave and Yoongi is eating up every single last one of them.

Because this is about you. This is about proving years of your denial’s fruitless. This is about him and how you make him lose every ounce of self control he has when he’s around you and how badly he’s wanted you since the day you met. This is about ruining every other man for you, making sure you know what true pleasure feels like, know how you deserve to be treated, and hearing his name on your lips when you come. When your cunt clenches so hard he has to fight tooth and nail to milk every ounce of bliss from it.

This is about him wanting to hear him make you feel good. Needing to hear him make you feel good.

This is about you.

And he can feel you starting to clamp up again, can feel you getting close. So he wraps an arm around your waist, fingers going straight for your pussy.

You shriek, body consumed by the even strokes he delivers as well as the smooth circles around your most sensitive spot, and he revels in it. This is what he’s been dreaming of, what he’s desired over everything else.

You, underneath him in so much pleasure you’re almost non-verbal.

Perfect in every single way.

“Taking me so well, dirty girl. Love the feeling of my cock splitting you open?” he hears a muffled cry and you nod your head. “Knew you would, knew you could take me.”

He delivers a smack to your ass and he feels you clench, so he soothes the battered area before handing out another, soothing that one out too.

“You’re so good for me, pretty little whore so greedy, sucking me in. Why’d you make me think you didn’t want me all these years, hmm? Was I not good enough for you?”

You bury your face in your sheets. Well that certainly won’t do. So he slows his fingers as he reiterates. “Was I not good enough for you then, Angel? Am I good enough for you now?”

“Yes,” you mutter, barely loud enough to hear.

“What was that?” he slows again to a near burningly slow pace, soaking in the feel of you around his fingers and dick. It feels like a place he once called home.

“Yes!” you bellow. “So good…so good to me…more than enough.”

The praise fuels him, and he picks up the speed of everything, cock pounding you into the mattress, fingers rubbing an achingly mind-blowing pattern on your clit. It pushes you over the edge for the third time tonight, your fluttering cunt around his dick almost has him losing it. Almost has him coming undone with you, but he manages to hold it back.

Not yet.

You're silent in your screams this time, overwhelmed with the feelings, fingers nearly ripping your sheets in half at how hard it hit you. How hard you contract around him.

Oh he’s never going to get sick of this feeling.

Ever.

And instead of guiding you down this time, he removes himself quickly, flips you over on your back and inserts himself once more.

He needs that feeling again. Needs you again. You claimed him for yourself whether you knew it or not all those years ago, he was simply following orders. He was yours the second your eyes met for the first time and he’s never looked back since. No one was ever good enough from that moment on, not a single creature on any plane of existence.

There was only you.

Yoongi’s never felt anything so pure and so sinful and so right as you pulsing around him does. He exists only for this feeling. Only for you. It took a couple thousand years, but at least now he knows.

And so he doesn’t slow down, pushing you through your oversensitivity.

It’s time for him to finally claim you back.

“I can’t,” you beg, “it hurts.”

“Not for long, Pretty Girl” he says in his lowest registar. “You can take it, I know you can. Give me one more, I know you have it in you.”

Yoongi’s noticed his words have almost the same effect on you as his motions, so he uses them to their full potential. And as he can sense your fourth orgasm about to land, you surprise him by whispering directly into his ear and raking your nails down his back as hard as you can.

“Only for you, Yoongi.”

His thrusts stutter.

“Fuck!”

He’s coming.

He’s coming hard. With you, with your name on his lips. It's violent and visceral and vicious and vibrant. It’s beautiful. You’re combined divine deliverance.

It’s the first time he’s said your name.

And it’s something he’s going to keep locked away in his memory for millenia to come as he covers your inner walls in the most sickeningly sweet shade of white.

You’re relentless, milking him over and over and over for all he’s worth, not letting up until your body is ready too, ruthless in your quest for ultimate euphoria and he takes it.

Whatever you want. Whatever you need.

It’s yours.

He’ll make it so.

At whatever cost to him, you'll get it. There isn't a doubt in his mind as you finally come down, body lighter, eyes glazed over, devastating smile on your lips.

He’s the first to move, going to the bathroom and grabbing a warm, wet cloth to clean you up. You’re blissfully spent, unable to get up even if you wanted to, limbs like jelly, still in a brain fogged haze.

You got exactly what you wanted.

He cleans his release from your form, naked save for the pink stone he gave you around your neck. Then tosses the cloth in your hamper and lies back down, covering you both with sheets. You cuddle up to him, tossing a leg around his torso, and lying your head on his chest. Contented.

And he’s silent until he can’t stand it any longer. He has to know.

“What changed?”

“Hmm?”

“What about tonight made you change your mind?”

You take a deep breath through your nose. “I…stopped fighting it. The feeling like we would never work, the feeling that I would never be good enough, that we were too different,” he listens intently as your fingers trace patterns on his chest, explaining. “And I was sick of denying myself. It’s my birthday. Shouldn't I get whatever I want on my birthday?”

That seductive smirk makes an appearance.

“Yes.”

“Plus you looked to damn fine in that outfit. A girl only has so much willpower, you know? It’s easier at work when there’s a bar and my job between us, but there was none of that tonight. Just the shots in my system and my unwavering desire to ride your face.”

Yoongi laughs, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen something as beautiful as his smile before.

“Next time,” he says. A promise.

You fall back into a comfortable silence that has you thinking.

“What about you?” you ask.

“What about me?”

“Why am I the only one you like? The only one you put up with.”

He ponders for a moment, thinking about how to phrase what he wants to say.

“I think about the time we met often. There was something about you that was different that day, and I’ve never been able to pinpoint exactly what, but when I saw you I knew I would never think of you the same way I do everyone else. There was something special about your gaze in mine, your company, your soul.”

“My soul?”

“Mhm.”

“You’ve never asked for mine before.”

“Never needed it.”

At that, you joke, “Is there something you’d sell your soul for?”

“You.”

Before you can say all the nothing in your head at his answer, he takes a deep breath that has you rising and falling with it. Something about what he’s going to say next is going to have heavy importance to him.

You just know it.

“You… made me—make me…want to be better. Do better.”

You’re speechless. Not the kind you were moments before. No, you’re truly and genuinely speechless.

You never expected anything like that.

You knew your presence in his life carried a different weight than others, a different air. It’s why you could speak so casually, insult him, and exist near him without fearing for your life. It was something no one had seen from him in thousands of years.

Kindness. Patience.

The man who’s job it is to run the universes torture capital, punishing those who deserve it without an ounce of mercy for eternity and killing those who looked at him the wrong way. The physical entity of the word evil, wanted to be better.

Because of you.

“I don't know what to say.”

“You don't need to say anything,” he kisses the top of your head, tender. “Having you with me is more than enough.”

You can do that.

“Okay,” you say, craning your neck to kiss him. It’s long, languid, and full of emotions you don't want to acknowledge right now, there’s too many of them to sort through in your post four orgasms brain to be able to process properly.

Tomorrow you can start. Right now you just want to bask in the afterglow of the most amazing birthday you've ever had.

“So this wasn’t a one time thing?” Yoongi clarifies.

“It definitely wasn't a one time thing,” not a chance in Hell.

He was yours now.

The Devil was yours.

King of the Underworld, god among men, catastrophe breathing evil was yours. And it brings the biggest smile to your face.

“Oh thank fuck.”

“Not thank God?” you tease.

Yoongi groans. “Do not bring my father into this.”

A/N 3: As always, thanks for reading, loves. Xoxo, - Yoon <3

2K notes · View notes