#what does it say about me that I'm writing fic in danish for the first time in probably twenty years | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kingofbodyrolls · 4 months ago

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Better late than never, right? 💕 (joke aside, you really didn’t have to respond but I adore you so much for taking the time to respond and I don’t care that it took some time 💜 also ØÆDFLDLJÅØÆ for the energy you matched it with was amazing, so here some more good energy back ✨)

This made me laugh in the absolute best way. 10/10 way to start a review, so ASKØÆÅVFÆÅFØLDB right back!! 😂😂

Maybe I should start all my reviews by screaming in Danish 🤣 I’m glad you liked it, and that it gave you a laugh 🥰

Lissa I'm finally able to respond to this with matching energy so SAME TO YOU MY GOOD DUDE(gn). You absolutely spoil me with your love and I dont deserve it 😭😭♥♥♥

First off, I love the energy you’re matching me with, and— OF COURSE YOU DESERVE IT!!! I will yell about you and this fic from the top of a hill until you hear me 💜

SOBBING CRYING. I literally am so so happy you enjoyed it. It was my first time really going in on like. Lore and fantasy and smut so the fact that it hit so hard for you just makes my heart freaking soar dude.

Soar. Fly. Fly high into the clouds, because this was seriously one of the best fics EVER for me. I read a lot, but I can easily put this in my top 10, or even top 5 ✨ And I fucking LOVE lore and fantasy! All the recognition you’ve gotten for it is so deserved 💎

Re-revisit???? SPOILED!! I AM SPOILED!!!

I am going to spoil you ROTTEN 😝💜

I whole heartedly that Mr. Min as Mr. Underworld wholly just does something for me. IDKWTH that says about meeeeeee. But I see you. I see you. OC makes my heart happy because she (unknowingly to me at the time of writing) stole all my gryffindor like traits and then turned them up to 11, and I love her for that. I love how brave and unbothered she is by everything. I just. Adore her. I debated for all of 4 seconds on which member I wanted to make OC's bartender coworker bestie and Tae just fit because he's sooooo the type 😂😂. I thought for 2 seconds to make him Jimin but then I figured Jimin would suit a Banshee better and forevermore Tae was decided to push OC's buttons in the ways she needed. I do have theories in my mind for more of this universe with the other members, and hell even if i wanted to, with other groups even. But I know what the other members are in the universe, and I have a rough (very VERY rough) couple of ideas what could happen for each. Who, knows, I've gotten so much love from this oneshot that series is starting to sound much nicer. And I gotchu! I know a lot of folks take praise as demand but you dont gotta worry about that with me. As someone who was and remains a reader before a writer, I getcha. I do.

OMG reader was totally displaying peak gryffindor behavior!!! I adore her so much for that too! Omg I could also have pictured Jimin as her bartender coworker, but I’m glad you decided with Tae because he certainly pushes her buttons— and Jimin makes a perfect Banshee! OMG, OMG, if you ever do write more to this universe with any of the other members, please do tag me! 🥹💜

God this is consistently relieving to hear. I can't read it myself anymore without cringing but my mum has read the story so maybe thats why. I did put a lot thought into word choice and actions and such, but trying to ~write~ and trying to make it hot at the same time is such a talent and so for my first time really trying to write it I think I did okay. My point being, every time someone as lovely and kind as yourself tells me this it's such a nice relief to know it's only cringey to me (because ~i~ wrote it) and the experience is different for people who didn't have to sit there and think "should I use cock or dick here??? Is folds okay still or is it starting to become cringe as hell??? Shit why are there only like 3 acceptable words for clit!!??" 😂😂😂

Okay, okay, first— YOUR MOM READ IT??? How was that experience? 🤭 And I totally get you, as a writer I cringe at my own smut scenes, which is why I like to praise writers for it, because I know sometimes we’re just insecure or feeling “is this even good?”, so when I feel like it’s good and/or amazing, I’ll comment on it!! It’s just cringy to you, don’t worry!

And lol, my mom has never read any of my stories, but my husband has 😂 It is a very fun bonding experience 😂 And YES! The struggles of a writer “I’ve used this word 5 times now” and oh damn, sometimes when I edit, if i’ve just written cock, I’ll write dick next, and then reserve it next 😂

*cries while looking up from my bowing position at your feet* T-thank youuuuuu😭😭😭♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥

You deserve it!!!!! 💜 And you’re welcome 🫂💜💜💜

Ramble always! I don't know a single writer out there who doesn't love it!!!! And I agree on terms of principle. Yoongi is just.. fucking hot.

That is so true!!! Yoongi is bias wrecking me so hard, every single day 🥵

I've never seen supernatural but I have seen Lucifer XD. Yin and Yang you and me! And now that I've googled crowley, he's a cutie pie!! So I'm good with that!

Hahaha 🤭 He is!!! And he’s super funny (most of Supernatural is just crack, truly). Maybe I should give Lucifer a chance— I saw some when my husband watched it! (but I know I’m not going to lol, I have way too much on my plate)

I really loved this gloriously kind and loving review. Folks like you are the reason fandom persists, thank you for your efforts ♥♥♥

No— thank you! But also thank you for acknowledging my efforts and then also taking them time to respond to me with the same energy 🥹 That really means a lot to me, and not many writers do that anymore 🥲 (and you're welcome (I'm bad with compliments))

*continues sobbing a puddle the size of the pacific* Thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you. For the review, the patience you give and for your existence <3

Thank YOU; for responding to my review, for writing the story in the first place, for keeping your promise (🥹) and for your existence 💜

I wish you all the best and loads of good energy to you ✨

*flying high into the sky with a lot of love*

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

#this. this. so fucking sweet #and i love it UwU #*hug*#not many writers take so much time to respond #and then match the energy!?#AMAZING <3 #this made my day too <3 #good energy ✨#orchid <3 #thank you for you <3

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hana-the-ghostieee · 1 year ago

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hey hey heyyy! not your typical yorushika post here but does involve them. as in elmy and ojisuma. anyways

sometimes i feel like my interests just bleed and blend into each other, unless they can't. (like i literally don't know how the same person that draws a butt ton of cats and likes to radiate positivity and enjoys kawaii culture and decora and happiness listens to songs about literally just living for music, and having no purpose once you literally can't create anymore, or about losing someone close to you and just having this hole. this hole in my heart they left behind. they used to be the one that could fill the void but now that they're gone i can't fill it, it's this hole that keeps spreading and spreading in the middle of my chest)

i mean let's be real i physically, mentally, emotionally or spiritually can't connect Perfume and this like danish pastel aesthetic. or Kyary Pamyu Pamyu with 8/31, the day Amy ran out of ink and oofed himself with the one gay ship i show my support on in the back of my notebooks. (those men. they can break up in front of my gravestone. and my spirit will float around. forever haunting this land. edit: i read The Moon That Breaks by TheHufflebean on AO3 and when i got to the breakup scene i lied on the floor and held my breath for like 5 minutes because well. i don't have a gravestone just lying around. but then i reread the tags and there was a make up scene (which WAS there thank whoever you'd like) and continued reading)

and before any of you people on the wolfstar tag yell at me for not putting any content related to them um click/tap Keep reading please thank you

thanks for wasting your time trying to read this! anyways

there's going to be so many more edits and tweaks and finetunes i can FEEL it

lemme take wolfstar for an example (though yorushika hasn't been bled through, thank whoever you'd like, i will list it as an example. edit: yorushika may have been bled through.)

edit: feel more than free to steal these ideas =w= i'd be a terrible writer, art is my strong suit (tho credit me i guess? idk do what you want i won't be mad if you just yoink it from wherever you see this)

japan? poof. modern au. they move to shinjuku niichome. (japan's lgbt city)

um what else what else what elseeeeeee (sorry brain is scrambled rn)

cats? poof. they adopt more cats than any reasonable person should have. (with minor disinterest from sirius but remus is just INTO IT LIKE HECK YES CATS OR I'M JUST PROJECTING IDK) bonus points if they end up running a cat cafe/cat library

yorushika?

poof.

(okay don't steal any ideas from this point on i'm working on a fic for this)

(go read Letters to Elma and Elma's Diary if you want to make sense of what's going on here! i'd recommend you listen to the full albums That's Why I Gave Up On Music and Elma first though. also trigger warning - the protag for Letters/That's Why oofs himself.)

(also please don't yell at me for making them not sound like themselves, i wrote this at like 1am, i probably suck at writing and i modeled them after the original elma and amy okay thankth)

elmy au, sirius is amy and remus is elma. both are also music creators, sirius suffers from depression, gets told by a seer (idk why. oh maybe remus has a seer friend he'd like sirius to see?? *shrugs*) he'd have less than a year left to live because of a "chronic issue", loses it and [insert Letters to Elma here]

so i'm thinking it's kind of a poa grim situation here, where a bunch of symbols saying he'd die within the year just appear out of nowhere, more frequent than before and then he gets a diagnosis for some heart disease and then above scene plays out

edit: don't know how i forgot this buttttt um in Diary 5/15 Elma says "Life surely has an expiration date. Those were the words I let leak out to him, a long time ago." (him being amy ofc) and im just imagining remus saying a bunch of poetic stuff cuz even though he doesn't do it often, he's a freaking good songwriter then this comes up and sirius just internalizes those words like no other

also i think i've moved on from my Kamisama no Dansu (dance of the gods) phase, on to Ame Haruru (after the rain) and i want to mention a few lines. "another summer without you is on it's way" - i'm assuming this is remus going welp. i guess no boyfriend. it's been a while. (back when they were in school they had summers apart but then they moved in together so they also spent the summers together but ofc now that sirius is somewhere in gotland/farosund/idk remus is just. i guess you won't be there this summer) "finally, the rain fell" - a reference as to how amy/sirius left town before writing what it's like after the rain. and it's counterpart, "finally, the rain stopped" - remus/elma experiencing what it's like, knowing he didn't

more edit: uhm completely forgot about the lycanthropy so assume remus found a forest or something (you know what. it's the forest referenced in the instrumental mori no kyoukai/church in the forest) all the while sirius is in the back (or well lord knows where in gotland) cursing himself for forgetting the thing he does w/ bf every. single month

back to 12am me :P

oh but instead of writing down all the letters and whatever and then getting a box and mailing it off, sirius sends remus letters like individually and consistently so remus also goes to sweden and hunts him down but remus doesn't have any spare paper on him so he can't respond in any way

don't ask me how he sends the letters and how he receives the letters

oh wait i got it nvm! um sirius sends the letters by owl (how could i forget) and remus has a diary (because Elma's Diary) but you know. he's not one of those people that rips pages out of their books (at least in this au that exists in the void that is my mind)

and then he chases after him. literally looking freaking everywhere. sometimes they're 3 days apart. sometimes they're so close you'd be sure they have dora the explorer eyesight but no they JUST miss each other like BARELY by a MILLISECOND like seriously remus can freaking SMELL him but thinks it's like a hallucination (cuz he has been getting those recently, see Diary 8/27) or yk becuz he stole some of sirius' clothes (though on 5/15 Elma also says she can't taste anything so rem can't either. also smell & taste are connected so he essentially just loses the function to smell anything. sign of severe depression =w=)

and then comes 8/31. (machIGAUTTERUNDAYO WAKATTERUNDA ANTARA NINGEN MO--)

sirius is on the pier, opening the bottle of Flower Verdigris/Paris Green/Emerald Green/take your pick.

remus stands at the base (?) (what do you call that part on a dock/pier where you just get on) of the pier. he could recognize that black hair anywhere.

okay googled it

oh wait no that's for a floating dock

i googled it again

...found nothing. anyways

he stands at the base of the pier, at the silhouette sitting on the edge. he could recognize that curly, dark hair from 50 miles away.

"SIRIUS ORION BLACK!!!"

sirius' head turns. he seems to be crying.

"re...?"

anyways remus runs up to him and [insert nautilus mv epic outro here but instead of the guitar it's sirius and instead of elma crying the liquid water out of her... being it's remus who is also crying the liquid water out of his being][...also nautilus is a wip until they get home][to clarify things remus does not pick sirius up like the guitar. they're hugging so hard you'd think a spine would break and they're maybe kissing and definitely crying]

edit: i sat down and thought about it so um sirius is sitting on the docks like one would sit on a bench (legs dangling off of the surface) and remus just runs to him and drops on the floor, kneeling position similar to the epic guitar/piano outro in the nautilus mv with the thrown papers and they're still crying and the sun is rising because even though amy oofed himself on the dock around the evening on 8/31 here sirius tries to oof himself at dawn, cuz the line "someday, the dawn will break, so try and open your sleepy eyes, because i've pictured them so many times" and then they stand up face each other and then collapse onto each other (like lean onto each other) and then cue passionate kissing (finally) (ooh as the sun rises and parts through the clouds. someday i will try my best to draw it. and um put it here. be prepared for the ultimate pathetic. something idk.)

and right now they're just gay sobbing messes :P

yet another edit: i'm thinking i can find a way to incorporate the lily/remus friendship. so you know the old lady that first appears in Diary 7/5, right? i'm thinking she's at least a representation of lily, though of course in this au she's swedish (along with the other peeps. yk james and peter and severus mhm) so remus understands. nothing. in this au they first meet because lily needed help w/ baggage ig? it's on the ferry to gotland and well her first husband/bf passed on (shown in Diary 7/22, elderly woman says "Man" and smiles, implying she looks back on the memories fondly, and we're expected to believe this was her husband. i'm thinking in this au maybe??? snape/lily was a thing. not sure. write some ship in the comments/rbs i guess) also i'm pretty sure she thought remus was straight and that he lost his gf/wife and is trying to move on too (in case you forgot, he's looking for a certain sirius, which is in fact alive, who is his bf) and on the ship home on 9/25 (i like to think they as in r/s stayed in sweden for a bit longer, taking more pics together and enjoying whatever they missed while looking for each other) they see lily/elderly woman again with her child harry supported by the man she loves, james (aww that would be sweet tho. fluffy jily and wolfstar stuff at the end) (in canon Diary, the elderly woman with her children and the new husband is kind of a symbol for Elma, saying she'll move on and heal and potentially find someone else)

okay i thought about it and sat a bit more. and. remember 8/27? (the blend of fantasy/reality whatever where Elma finds Amy's stuff?) uhm i'm thinking something like that would happen here on 8/31, but ofc with more intervention from miss nice old lady (represented by lily). so she's moved on from her grief and found another love (james) right? well turns out james is still an animagus in this au (how helpful =w=) and lily is just. unsure of what the heck happened. (tho she does get some "help i'm looking for my boyfriend" vibes) until she connects the dots. they're fronking looking for each other before sirius' life reaches it's "expiration date" (though let's be real. throwing away that life would be like yeeting a loaf of freshly baked bread into the bin) so she tells james the master plan. she thinks on the last day of his life, remus would go out and look for him again, unaware of the fact that his boyfriend is literally at the lowest point of his life. so she'd sent out james for remus to follow (under the pretense that that was sirius' shadow, before leading him to the docks where sirius would go like once every like two weeks since coming to gotland to regret whatever he did) and then cue the scene from "and then comes 8/31. (maCHIGAUTTERUNDAYO WAKATTERUNDA ANTARA NINGEN MO--)" it's basically just saaaaaaaaaaaayonaaaaaaaaaaaaaaraa no haYASA DE KAOO WO AGETE. ITSUKA YATTO YORU GA AKETARA, MOU, ME WO SAMASHITEEEEE, MITEEEEEEEE, NEBOKE MANAKO NO KIMI WO, NANDEDATTE EGAITEIRU KARA (yeah i put some lines from nautilus, your point is?) all the while jily are just watching the gay sobbing messes™ from afar, in the forest or hiding in a bush near the base, high-fiving and cheering or something idk

ohkayee back again to me from 1am

oh also remus does write the responses to the songs sirius sent him, and they show each other freakin all the songs they wrote (so sirius shows him the summer grass gets in my way and a loser doesn't need an encore in the "original" notebook Elma finds on 8/27 but again this is wolfstar. so rem runs to siri and then they go back and take all the other stuff. and then remus shows him the pre-8/27 but in this case pre-8/31 songs and then writes ame to kapuchiino/rain and cappucino, kokoro ni ana ga aita/a hole opened up in my heart, yuu ichijou/only sorrow and the wolfstar version of amy because well. he wrote responses to almost the entire album. so close yet so far. and sirius is in the back reading the lyrics remus wrote and is just crying the liquid water out of his body because did he really cause his boyfriend that much pain? IM SORRYBDJSJSBDB DJSJSHEHDHDHDHEVRHFIKSJSJSJEGEUDHSHRJRIDJX DNDJE DDKAJWBBDJDISJABSDN9W72URIROAQHENNSOAOWIWKSKSKWKWKKAAAALSOWKMRRFIUY)

also sirius moves to the inn/room where remus stays in while doing the looketh for boyfriend and songwriting thing. remus doesn't realize how salty his pillow smells until now. (one of the downsides of crying yourself to sleep =w=)

i do realize there are some continuity errors in the way the songs are written, like in this au everything's supposed to happen within the same year, whereas in canon elmy everything happens assumably in two consecutive years (it doesn't explicitly state) and because it's written under two consecutive years assumably the songs would have to be written and sent at different times (especially august, a certain place, moonlight and evening calm, a certain place, fireworks.)

edit: so i'm thinking before the events of any of these. sorry if this ruins continuity in this au or something but like before the events of this remus co-wrote the summer grass gets in my way and a loser doesn't need a encore's songs (the first two eps by yorushika), specifically the ones with music videos except for The Clouds and The Ghost (for the summer grass - Say It. & Fireworks Beneath My Shoes and for a loser doesn't need - Hitchcock, Just a Sunny Day For You & Semi-Transparent Boy) and then when he finds the notebook they sit down and review the non-mv vocal songs thus far (Cattleya, Blooming In That Summer, A Loser Doesn't Need An Encore, Compulsive Bomber & Hibernation and they're all bops)

alrighty back again to 12am me :|

moreeee editttttt: so about the song Dance of the Gods. (because i've been freaking obsessed with it since like August) um there are a bunch of lines i want to include so. in the song at the end of the choruses, there are variations of the line "I don't care, I'll go even further, to a place no one's ever heard of, searching for the moonlight" (being "I don't care, I'll go even further, to a place no one can see, and put up an imitation of living" and "That's right, I'll go even further, to a place no one knows of, searching for the moonlight") and i think that's Elma giving up on creating music to give it "value" and "a life of it's own", and creating music because well it's fun but in this au i think that's remus going I WILL FOLLOW BEEF TO THE ENDS OF THE EARTH IF THAT'S WHERE HE IS (not sure why remus would call sirius moonlight tho cuz well he's moony) (okay you know what. sirius looks down upon his ability to compose while calling remus' songs his moonlight and that he was jealous of his skills. remus, being the self loathing person he is thinks it's like a light hearted joke or something. now that his boyfriend is gone he's trying to find this "moonlight" boyfriend saw that he couldn't see, wanting to live out his ideals)

and another edit: so the August, A Certain Place, Moonlight and Evening Calm, A Certain Place, Fireworks problem. the thing about the Elmy story is Elma's story takes place a year, i think, after Amy's, so all the songs would be written at completely different times, not necessarily within a few days of each other. i'm thinking sirius wrote August and sent it out to remus and then remus wrote Evening Calm because they sound similar and at first canon Elma imitated Amy before slowly moving on to her own style so these gay messes do too

same issue between Let's Dance and Dance of the Gods - but this time i think Dance of the Gods was written shortly after Let's Dance

and then they go back home which is in Sekimachi i guess (that's the town Elma met Amy so ??? i guess r/s lives there now??? they (elma and amy) met in the cafe (that has since closed down) shown in the rain and cappuccino mv which is allegedly in sekimachi) and live long enough for me not to be able to think about how their lives end because now that i ship them so bad, reading ootp and tdh again would practically (and effectively) traumatize me. i'd be scarred for life. it's like that one scene in nakineko where Kento says he hates Miyo and rejects her in front of the whole class and then she starts tearing up and runs out of the class and Yori follows her and then Miyo is just numb to the pain. she got hurt so bad she can't feel anything. flash forward to when she gets home. *face buried in pillow* [LOUD SOBBING NOISES]

more edit: i just realized. okay so on the last Letter (from 8/31, when Amy runs out of ink) Amy states he quit music once, but Elma brought him back into it, after she showed him some songs she wrote and sung and he described it as (wait lemme pull up the doc) "unerring, faultless light that can only illuminate the night. unimaginably soft, dazzling beyond my wildest dreams, pale moonlight" (ink fades away at the word moonlight) and um now i feel like that's what sirius would sometimes call remus (besides moons or moony)

like no. honey we're gon kill no one today. thank yu. (maybe this is why i read fanfics)

another edit: so you know how i listed here they go home and share the songs they wrote and whatevers?? um now im thinking. remus finishes writing the last 4 songs that in Elma's Diary were written after 8/27 (rain and cappuccino, a hole opened up in my heart, only sorrow and the wolfstar version of amy in case you forgot) and sirius shares his thoughts

so um here

(also i feel like the "still grieving" thing would be remus. just being scared about the fact that bf might just run out the door and disappear again? and feels a lot safer when he wakes up with bf in his arms)

rain and cappuccino:

[first verse] pretty innocent

[chorus] *voice shaking* wow, keeping in track with the theme i see

remus: to be fair, what i responded to had a similar message. ...as if i could let memories of you fade away (no literally like i can't even if i wanted to)

a hole opened up in my heart:

[first three lines] MOONLIGHT BABE STOP IT PLEASE I SWEAR ON THE EXISTENCE OF EVERYTHING I WILL NEVER HURT YOU AGAIN

(for context, the song sirius would've written is false night, whose main line is "I want to open a hole in you", and this song is the response to that, with the main (and first) line "That's why a hole has opened up in my heart")

[end of the song] *lying on the floor, indistinct but very loud sobbing noises*

remus: well i did have to capture what i felt then. more grieving and crying up ahead

(this is by far the most painful song ever it's like a knife stuck in your chest and you take the handle and keep twisting it deeper into yourself just AAAAAAAAA LET ME CRYYYYYYY)

only sorrow:

[reads title] do i bring out the tissues or...?

[first verse] okay wow this sounds nothing like the song i wrote pretty ironic since you tried to literally "live" my life but okay

remus: wait for it

[chorus] okay i sound about ready to cry

amy (or the wolfstar ver):

(before reading/listening) if this is another song about grief i swear im going to go cry alone for the next 5 hours

(after reading and/or listening) *5 second delay* *goes and hugs remus*

(amy as in the song is one of the sweetest songs yorushika has made like ever in their 8-ish years of existence. it responds to the song elma and was written when elma (the person) finally moves on from her grief and now looks fondly back to those days. when her lover oofed himself and she went through sweden crying and looking for him. ...yeah not that sweet but idk)

all the while remus is just writing this and showing it to him like how i do with my art when talking about it with my friends. just "alrightyyyyyyy i did a thing. here. *smacks paper down on table* any thoughts???"

and then [insert healing and fluffy romantic stuff here]

okay thats all for the edit continue reading the thing 12am me wrote

oh shoot now i can't unthink this why T^T

um oh well i guess? i'll probably forget this was a thing anyways

oh but since we're already hereeeeeeeeeee

poof.

ojisuma au

(okay you can steal this one)

(read the novel Plagiarism for context here! the album isn't as important here, it kind of serves as a background noise and also expresses oji-san's experience. oh also yes, the album takes melodies, beats and rhythms from actual songs (as well as their own, in the song plagiarism) so yeah go listen to the album too i guess :D)

sirius is oji-san and remus is tsuma but tsuma doesn't die and they also work together to produce music but what rem doesn't know is siri has been stealing???? all of these sounds??? for the songs he thought was original??? and eventually siri comes to the conclusion that the only original thing he can create is his downfall as a musical artist (essentially just goes through what oji-san does but no dead wife but this is a wolfstar au so no dead husband.) so he does. this is my pathetic replacement for the prank and them not trusting each other. and rem is not happy. (he no trust him no more) but siri then goes and creates the two songs night journey and ghost in a flower because i think oji-san wrote those songs after he destroyed his reputation cuz they sound so different from all the other songs in tousaku (or maybe it was because of nakineko. not complaining it is still my fav movie. there's CATS. there's drama. there's CATS. there's romance. there's CATS. there's magical island with cats. there's CATS. did i say CATS. anyways)

um society as a whole just hates on siri. honestly can't blame society as a whole.

and then he releases sousaku/creation without stealing a thing (applaud for him please. i cant hear you clapping CLAP HARDER) and then *cue redemption arc*

yet. another. edit. : um i feel like adding some stuff so sirius would've written the songs Ghost in a Flower and Spring Thief to celebrate the relationship he had (and will get back) with remus, Night Journey and The Lying Moon as the break-up (but not the like "I'M DONE GOODBYE D:<" kinda songs, more like the "I'll remain here, as you go to the other side" or the "Rain has fallen, flowers have scattered/I still think about your rosy cheeks/as I keep drinking love from a bottomless ladle/It's true, it's tasteless, this thirst that's never satisfied, but you can laugh all you want and say "Is that so?/but I'll be here, just waiting for you") um and the instrumental creation would be a filler, and Robbery and Bouquet would be an allusion to his past self with the plagiarism and the sound stealing and i'm not sure what Eat the Wind would be

and then they get back together ^.^

(ooh but hold on. i feel like making a plagiarist remus and a tsuma sirius)

if the ojisuma au didn't sound as in depth or something know that Dakara Boku wa Ongaku wo Yameta (basically elmy) is like the most iconic yorushika lore

therefore more people are more interested in that (and i am part of more people :P) (also there's more context in elmy than ojisuma)

wow how the hekk did i connect wolfstar. a fanon (that deserves to be canon) gay ship about two friends in a group at a wizarding school that end up being more with... yorushika. a band that constantly hurts me. as in it hurts GOOD. like go listen to yoru magai and then kokoro ni ana ga aita. (with translations cuz im pretty sure barely any of you guys on the wolfstar or sirius x remus tag know japanese) LIKE STOPPPPPP THAT SONG IS THE DEFINITION OF GRIEF AND PAIN AND I DON'T KNOW HOW N-BUNA, A PERSON THAT SAID HE WROTE SONGS LIKE THESE TO EXPRESS HIS VIEWS ON LIKE LIFE AND DEATH CREATE A SONG THIS PAINFUL. LIKE HOW DO YOU WRITE SONGS LIKE THESE???

edit: i didn't connect them i practically forced another universe onto them (also i may be one of the first people to do this idk i have no idea who else is a big yorushika fan and a wolfstar shipper)

okay that is all i think have a nice dayyyyyy/nighttttttt/timezoneeeeeeeee

wait WHAAA

okay im typing this on mobile and??? you can freaking DRAG PARAGRAPHS???

...why don't they make this with tags i had to use little asterisks when i posted that apparently bots keep following me thing

wow this is like the LONGEST post i've made ever what the hell

wow the amount of times i've edited this GOSH

uhm anyways *hand on hip* *thumbs up* woo! *collapses face-down on floor*

#wolfstar #sirius x remus #remus x sirius #okay it's been a few days??? and um the wolfstar elmy au is???? peacefully coexisting with the canon elmy in my head????#i got scared about the fact that whenever i think of something that stems from canon but becomes something else my viewpoint changes #and suddenly i start hating canon #well when canon is something you love/done by people you love or care about/both #it has been a few more days and i think it's safe to say that the wolstar elmy au can peacefully coexist with the elmy story??? lore??? idk #it has been about a few more days and it is defo safe to say they can co-exist #though i have been thinking about them in this au more than the original elmy #maybe cuz like there's more content about wolfstar idk #my interests. they just blend into each other like the sunset does into the deep indigo that is the night

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morosemagick · 4 years ago

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Listen, Before I Go | Finan x Reader One Shot

Welcome to my first one shot/first Reader!Fic.

Be gentle, I'm trash.

Warning: Major Character Death, (its sad, okay, idk what else to say.)

Words: 3847

Tagged:

@solinarimoon @lauwrite1225

You had seen many things in your life as a traveling healer. Wounds and illnesses alike, taking you from place to place wherever people may need you. Taking care of people was in your blood. Both your parents were healers, and you planned on using all they taught you to care for people around the world. And yet, when you met Uhtred of Bebbanburg and his crew of accident-prone warriors in the aftermath of the battle at Tettenhall, something inside you told you to stay. A feeling in your heart, telling you that no one will ever need you more than they would. Over the months that passed, that feeling proved true. You healed every cut, bruise, and battle wound they would come to acquire. Each wound healed was a bond growing stronger with each man in Uhtred’s service, including your lord himself.

Osferth, the first of the Coccham boys you healed. His kindness was always warming to the heart. Sihtric, who spoke often of his wife and joked about his desire to return to her in one piece. And of course, Finan, whose laugh made your heart skip a beat and smile did things to you that was certainly ungodly. They were your family, and you loved them all dearly.

And you would do whatever it took to save their lives.

Especially now, when they needed you most.

“Sihtric!” You scream out at the sight of him, bloody and broken. The snow falls thick and heavy around you, stained red with the Danish man’s blood and Osferth and Finan work together to lift him from the ground.

“We got him, Y/N, just go!” Finan yells out, and you nod okay. The storm is picking up and though the raiders that ambushed you are dead, none of you are out of the woods yet.

Up ahead is a cave. It’s cold and dark but it’s dry, and getting Sihtric out of the storm is your main priority.

“This way, to the cave!” You call out as you lead the men forward, being sure to check for any unfriendly creatures that might be hiding out from the storm inside. When the coast is clear, you wave the others on.

As carefully as they can, Osferth and Finan lower Sihtric to the ground. The injured warrior groaned as he touched the ground, “We need to make a fire.” Finan tells the rest of you.

“Did anyone see Lord Uhtred?” Osferth questions, making you and Finan glance at each other.

You shake your head no, and then Finan looks back to Osferth, “He must be with Lady Aethelflaed.”

“Should we look for them-”

“We can’t,” Finan cuts him off, sighing, “We must stick together, make a fire, and take care of Sihtric.”

“I will tend to Sihtric,” You tell them, “Go get what you need for a fire but please stay close, this storm is only getting worse, and finding your way back might get harder.”

Finan nods okay, and the two men leave as you bend down to check up on Sihtric. He’s breathing heavy but he’s still alert so that has you at ease. Checking his wound on his side, it doesn’t seem bad but it will definitely need stitching. His skin, however, is freezing to the touch and that makes you nervous, “That bad?” Sihtric chuckles the best he can, his eyes looking so very tired.

“Not at all, you needed stitches. That’s all,” You tell him as you look through the pouch tied to your belt.

“You are a bad liar, Y/N,” He huffs, looking up to the ceiling of the cave, “Tell me, please.”

Biting your lip, you sigh and glance away, “You're freezing, you need fire or you may get sick.”

“I could have told you that,” He laughs but the motion makes his side hurt and his laughter turns to a wince.

“You must rest, Sihtric, please,” You tell him as you find your needle and thread, “Eahlswith will not forgive you if you do not make it home in one piece, remember?”

“Ealhswith,” He smiles slightly, and then grunts as you start to clean the wound, “I miss her.”

“And you will see her soon, I promise,” Glancing up, you can see fear in Sihtrics eyes, and it breaks your heart, “I swear it, Sihtric.”

He only nods, and you continue to care for him in silence.

------------------------------------<3---------------------------------------

Time has passed, and the fire has been made, but it’s small and just barely enough to keep you all comfortable so to make up for the lack of heat you all huddle close to each other. You are to Sihtric’s left, Finan is to yours, and Osferth is on the other side of Sihtric. Sihtric’s wound was cleaned well but he is still very cold and you’re trying your best not to show how worried you are. As you take a deep breath, you let out a shiver and it shakes your whole body.

Noticing how cold you are, Finan scoots closer and wraps his arms around yours and holding it tight, “You alright, Y/N?”

You glance momentarily at Sihtric, who's currently half awake with his head on your shoulder and his eyes on the fire ahead of them, and then look back at Finan, “I am.”

It’s a lie. You’re terrified.

Terrified of losing your friends, of dying to the cold, but mostly you’re terrified of not being able to keep the oath you made to Lord Uhtred and yourself to keep them all safe. It’s killing you inside.

Sihtric is shivering to your right, his cold body against yours sending chills down your spine.

“Alright there, Sihtric?” You ask him, though you know the answer. Instead of staying strong, you can feel him shake his head no. His fear brings a tear to your eyes, “It’ll be okay.”

“It will not,” Sihtric whispers, making everyone else suddenly alert to how beaten he’s feeling.

“It will be, Sihtric, we will get out of this mess like we have every other mess Uhtred has gotten us into,” Finan tries to joke in an attempt to keep everyone’s spirit up.

“Uhtred isn’t even here,” Sihtric tells him, his head still rested on your shoulder, “We might never see him again. I might not-”

“We are getting out of here,” Osferth adds, “God will see us through this.”

“He is not my God, Osferth, he does not care if I live or die,” Sihtric argues.

None of you have seen him so defeated before.

“Hey, hey, look at me,” You tell Sihtric as you turn your body to face him, forcing him to lift his head up. You can tell it’s a struggle for him to hold himself up, and it’s hard for you to keep a calm expression. You grab Sihtric by his face and put on your best smile, but your eyes are still watering and the wind outside has made it so unbearably cold; so at this point, you don’t know if you have it in your heart to lie to him. So you don’t, “I know you are cold, and you hurt, but I will do whatever it takes to make sure you get home to Coccham. To your wife, and to your son.”

Sihtric nods okay, but his eyes tell another story as he starts to cry.

Past his shoulder, you can see Osferth is also looking mighty defeated as his own eyes start to get red, and behind you, Finan’s hand has gripped your cloak and tight.

And then, to make matters worse, the fire dies.

“Fucking bastard fire!” Finan growls loudly as he kicks the still hot wood with his foot, making soot spread, “Fuck!” His scream echoes throughout the cave as he gets up and stomps around in anger, and you look away from Sihtric as you start to cry, biting your lip in hopes of keeping your fear to yourself.

On the tips of your fingers, you feel Sihtric’s tears falling down.

“Finan, sit... please,” Osferth calls out, and you can hear his voice cracking, “Being angry will solve nothing.”

Sihtrics’ crying has worsened, and now they can all hear him.

You pull him closer to you, cuddling him like a child in your arms, trying your best to keep him warm. His sobbing is enough to shake you both, but you keep your grip on him strong. Osferth scoots his body closer to Sihtrics, putting his arm around his brother, and to your left, you can hear Finan return to his seat. After a moment or two, you can feel his arms wrap around your waist and hold you tight.

At least if you die, it will be next to those you love the most.

The four of you sit this way in silence for some time, the only things you can hear are Sihtric crying and the strong snowy winds blowing outside the cave. You have never been a very religious person, but at that moment you find yourself praying to every god you can think of to save the ones you love.

A moment later you hear Sihtric sniffle, and shuffle a bit in your arms before he sighs and speaks, “Y/N?”

“Yes?”

“Can you sing for us?” He asks, and you nod yes.

If you can bring him comfort now, in what very well might be his final hours, you will do whatever he wishes.

“Take me to the rooftop. I wanna see the world when I stop breathing. Turning blue,” You rest your cheek on top of Sihtric’s head, and your eyes glance away as you continue, “Tell me, love is endless, don't be so pretentious. Leave me, like you do. If you need me, wanna see me, better hurry 'Cause I'm leaving soon,” There's sniffling in the air as you sing, you can hear Osferth shuffling, probably to get closer to Sihtric, and you can feel Finan’s arms grip you tighter. “Sorry, can't save me now. Sorry, I don't know how. Sorry, there's no way out but down, mm down.”

You move your left hand down to where Finan is holding you tight, and he moves to grab it, squeezing it as best he can. His hand is lacking a glove, and yet you can feel his warmth.

You hold on to that feeling as you continue singing, “Taste me, the salty tears on my cheek. That's what a year-long headache does to you. I'm not okay, I feel so scattered, don't say I'm all that matters. Leave me. Deja vu. If you need me, wanna see me, you better hurry. I'm leaving soon,” Finan’s head is on your shoulder, you can feel his breath on your neck. It makes you think of all the times you should’ve kissed him. You should have told him. Probably too late for that now, though, “Sorry, can't save me now. Sorry, I don't know how. Sorry, there's no way out, but down, mm down. Write my friends and tell them that I love them. And I'll miss them... but I'm not sorry. Write my friends and tell them that I love them, and I'll miss them…”

Sorry.

------------------------------------<3---------------------------------------

The men have been asleep for some now, but you’re still awake. You have been staring at Sihtric all night, watching his chest rise and fall. Making sure his chest still rises and falls. A couple of times you’ve even put your fingers to his lips to make certain that he’s still breathing. Anything to make sure he’ll survive through the night. On the other side of him, Osferth is sound asleep, you can hear the man snore just slightly, and see him cuddled against Sihtric’s side.

The inside of this cave is freezing but you know it’s better than being out in the storm.

“Y/N?” You hear Finan whisper, “Are you up?”

“I am,” You whisper back, your fingers hovering just above Sihtric’s lips. Still breathing, good. You roll over slowly to not wake him, and when you are facing Finan, you sigh, “He is still alive, thank God.”

“Do you think he’ll make it?” Finan asks quietly, his eyes a red mess.

You shrug, not wanting to lie right now, “I do not know, Finan,” You shake your head, and the tears are building in your eyes again and your next words barely make it out, “I fear the worst.”

The tears fall down your cheeks and you try your best to not cry too loudly because you fear waking them more than you do crying in front of the man who’s stolen your heart. Finan reaches out to hold you by your cheeks and you can feel how warm he is still, it’s not much but enough to feel wonderful against your cold face as you cry. He shuffles his body closer to you, and you can feel his breath on your face as you open your eyes.

You don’t want to die without him knowing how he makes you feel. How he makes your heart flutter. How he fills you with so much life.

How loved he makes you feel.

“Finan- I need to tell you something,” You get yourself ready to say the words, but he stops you with his finger on your lips.

“Tell me in the morning, Y/N,” He’s smiling, but his eyes are red and full of tears.

“But what if we don’t make it to morning?” Your voice cracks, and instead of answering Finan leans in and kisses you. It’s warm and delicious, and you want to kick yourself that it’s only happening now when you might not live to see another day because your body is cold but kissing Finan now fills your soul with so much warmth.

Perhaps this wouldn’t be a terrible way to die.

The two of you stay like that for a while, and you're trying your best to etch every inch of him into your mind as he pulls you in closer by the way to deepen the kiss. It’s everything you’ve ever wanted. It’s like coming home, and when you finally break apart the content smile on his face says he feels the same.

Finan leans back in, kissing your face over and over again. Making sure to kiss away all the tears that have stained your cheeks and then finding his way to your neck, “If I didn’t fear waking them, I’d pull my cock from my trousers and warm you with that.”

You try to bite your lip to contain your laughter, but a snicker comes out anyway, “I’m sure that is that last thing either of them would like to see now.”

“Aye, but what a sight it would be,” He smirks, leaning in for another kiss, “But If I’m going to bed you, Y/N, it will be properly I swear it.”

“I will hold you to that,” You tell him with another kiss, and as you move to separate you can see the expression on his face shift and the mood become more somber, "We should try to sleep. We need our energy."

"You sleep, I'll keep watch," Finan tells you, kissing your forehead.

"Nothing is going to hurt us here but the cold," You try to tell him, "Please try to sleep, Finan."

"I will, Y/N, let me just hold you for a while," Finan nods for you to turn around and you comply, and a moment later his arms are around your waist again and he's kissing behind your ear. Then, barely a whisper and more like wind, you can hear him say something in your ear, "Tá grá agam duit."

It's the last thing you hear before you fall asleep.

------------------------------------<3---------------------------------------

You wake from your sleep in a cold sweat, your heart racing as you rise quickly from the ground. The first thing you do is turn your body to your right to check on Sihtric, and to your surprise you find him sitting up and wide awake.

It brings tears to your eyes.

"Oh thank God," You can't help but say at the sight of him.

Sihtric smiles slightly. He looks tired, but he's alive and that's all the matters, "Good morning, Y/N."

"How are you feeling?" You ask as you lean over to put the back of your hand on his forehead. He's warmer than he was last night, which is a good sign, "Warmer? Is your wound okay?"

"Looks like you did it again, Y/N," Osferth calls out as he enters the cave with firewood in his hand, "Told you you’d be okay." Osferth drops the wood where the original fire once sat and then walks over to Sihtric and ruffles his hair, "Lord Uhtred will be pleased."

You chuckle, wiping your face of tears, and then suddenly you remember last night and Finan.

With a smile still on your face you turn to your left, where you can see his body still lying there, "Finan, it's morning-" the moment you put your hand on him your smile fades and your heart drops as you notice something very important. His fur cloak isn't on his body, but on yours and Finan is cold, "Finan?" You shake his shoulder as you call his name, the frantic sound of your voice getting the other’s attention, "Finan!"

Osferth rushes to your side just as you turn him on his back, and you place your fingers to his lips and can barely feel a thing. Osferth, however, has his hand on Finan’s forehead, "He's burning up."

"I cannot feel his breath," You tell Osferth as the tears hit you quick, and your breathing is all over the place, "Finan, come on, please-" you start to pump at his chest to get his heart moving, breathing into his mouth to help him get air. You do both this over and over again, trying not to let the sobbing stop you, "Come on, Finan, please!"

"Y/N?" You can hear Sihtric's voice question you from where he sits, the sound of fear clear.

You keep going, refusing to give up on him. Thinking about the other night.

You still haven't told him-

"Y/N," Osferth calls to you, but you do not stop, "Y/N," He tries pulling you away, but you keep going, and going, but now Osferth is pulling a little harder, "Y/N, please-"

And just as Osferth is about to tell you to stop, Finan starts to gasp for air and your heart can beat again, "God, thank you," you cry as you pull Finan close to you, taking off the cloak he gave you in the night and putting it back around his body. He's breathing lightly, but he's breathing so that's good enough for now, "You're okay, Finan, you're okay." He lifts his hand up to grab yours and you place a kiss on the top of his head.

“It seems your God is with us, Osferth,” Sihtric chuckles from behind them, making you and Osferth look back at him with a smile.

“We need to get out of this cave,” Osferth smiles, patting your shoulder as he rises to his feet.

“Why, when you’ve seemed to have made it home?” The voice from behind you has you all turning heads, a shocked and pleased look on your faces when you see Lord Uhtred has found you, “Y/N, what have you done to my men? They look awful.”

You laugh in relief at the sight of him. It seems all the Gods have heard your prayer.

------------------------------------<3---------------------------------------

You all get home to Coccham in one piece, and you’ve never been happier to see your little home in your whole life. They leave Finan with you so you can watch him recover, and you do not mind giving the Irishman your bed. It’ll take him a few days to heal, and after everything that has happened, you’d prefer to keep a close watch on him. Sihtric and Ealhswith stop by to visit, partially so you check on Sihtric and partially so Ealthswith can thank you with meals for bringing her husband home.

Osferth and Lord Uhtred stop by as well. Finan isn’t always awake so they usually sit by his side for a while. Osferth prays and you think Uhtred might too.

You are cooking dinner one evening when you hear movement in your bedroom, and the sound of something falling over. You immediately rush to the other room to find that Finan is trying to sit up, and has knocked a cup of water to the floor.

“What do you think you're doing?” You giggle as he leans back down, feeling grateful to see him awake.

“If you wanted me in your bed, Y/N, you only needed to ask,” Finan jokes as you walk closer to him, sitting at the edge of the bed, “What happened?”

“You’re a fool, that’s what happened,” You tell him as you put your hand to his forehead and he is no longer burning, which is good, “You had a fever, almost froze to death,” Your smile fades as you take a deep breath, “I thought I lost you for a moment…”

“A fever?” He questioned, looking generally lost, “I don’t remember a fever,” He reaches out and takes your hand, gently rubbing your knuckles, “But I do remember some things. You were going to tell me something, were you not?”

You smile and lean down to kiss his forehead, “I’ll tell you when you're out of this bed.”

Finan laughs, using his other hand to reach out and hold you close from your neck, “Will you now?”

“You have promises you have to make good on first,” Your smirk as you lean in closer.

“Oh and I plan on making good of them, Y/N,” Finan tells you in a low voice that makes you squirm.

You chuckle as you lean in even closer, “God is good.”

“Aye,” He smirks as he hovers over your lips, “Praise him.”

Oh, you do. You thank him later that night in bed as you ride him and Finan makes good on his promise to warm you. A bed that Finan ends up never leaving and now you share together. You praise him on your wedding day, and multiple times on your wedding night. You praise him a few months later when you find yourself pregnant with your firstborn, and again when you give birth to your first son. You thank God for every child you have after, and every moment with this family of yours; made and found, that you decided to stay in Coccham and make it your home.

You thank God, all the Gods, for every moment they bless you with.

Even once your husband passes on.

And one day, when you're old, tired, and lying in the grass surrounded by the ones you love most you thank him one last time; before you go, for blessing you with such a life.

Grateful to go out under the heat sun, taking in the world one last time.

#finan x reader #one shot #angst #we here to get sad kids #character death #the last kingdom #tlk #finan the agile #tlk finan #fanfic #fanfiction #mcloveproductions

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