Same as before: 45 votes/comments for an early update!

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Y/n

She hated Jimin.

For all his external beauty, his soul didn't match. As she sat in her car with her hands on the wheel and her head banging off it, she pondered setting the house on fire and claiming faulty wiring caused it. Granted, Jimin would teleport out before she so much as lit a spark, but the intrusive thought made her grin. That was why it was a thought, not something she'd act on. Thinking evil thoughts wouldn't hurt her, but acting on them would. So, she calmed her breathing and cleared her rapid mind.

Between dad's death and moving, Y/n had more than enough on her plate. Her sister had called nonstop to ask about the moving process. Y/n had to ignore the calls and let them go straight to voicemail. However, she wasn't cruel; she had sent a text to inform her sister everything was okay, and she needed time to settle in before giving a detailed update. That gave her maybe two minutes before her lil sis spammed her again—she'd spam with pictures of the new foods she had cooked all by herself. She grew up. Y/n didn't know where the years went.

She slumped back in her cushioned seat and propped her legs on the wheel. The car was in park with the engine off, so there was no danger of her rolling off the hill leading up to the secluded home. There was a five-minute drive to the nearest neighbor and a ten-minute to the nearest gas station. The outskirts of Hershey had horses, farms, more horses, fresh air, and vast landscapes with the cleanest grass Y/n had ever seen. Living in the City for so long altered her perception of quality living. The City had flashing lights, shopping sprees, and polluted skies. The difference between it and Hershey was like the difference between her and Jimin.

One was sane, the other was fucking mental.

After taking the time to cool off, she snatched her phone and checked one last time for missed calls or texts from her sister. A few texts, all about a new pasta she had cooked, but otherwise, nothing of importance.

Silencing her phone and setting her legs back down, Y/n exited her vehicle and brushed herself off—the dirt from the house infected her, and she wanted to appear somewhat presentable for the demon. Not because she liked him (newsflash: she didn't) but because he seemed perfect, and she wanted that too. If not to prove his words hadn't gotten to her, then so she could look perfect. Who didn't want to look perfect?

She trotted back inside with her hands on her hips; however, when she stepped in, she spotted Jimin sitting on the floor and clicking his tongue to get Harry to run back and forth. No murder, no making fun of him, no torture—just a man and a guinea pig hanging out. She thought Jimin would bully Harry, but he didn't.

That didn't mean she liked him, though.

"I'm going upstairs to call my sis and go to bed. I'll finish moving tomorrow," she said, and he peeked up at that. As much as she hated to admit it, he had adorable puppy eyes complemented by dots of freckles lining his squishy cheeks and button nose.

"You... felt the need to announce that? I don't care."

She rolled her eyes. "Maybe this will get your attention: in the morning, we'll get hash browns."

He beamed. "Now you're speaking my language. I'll be ready to go at nine. Oh, and just so you know, this is the first day in decades if not centuries I haven't had pussy. You should be thanking me. I sacrificed pussy to help you move."

She faked a grin. "You felt the need to announce that? I don't care. See you in the morning."

With that, she took her guinea pig and entered her room, shutting and locking the door behind her. It wouldn't stop the demon from teleporting in if he wanted to, but it was the thought that counted.

She didn't care where he slept (probably in the study or living room turned kitchen), so she worried about her sister and sleeping instead. Sure, it was early, but if she was waking up at ass o'clock in the morning, getting early rest would benefit her in the long run.

She slumped over on her bouncy mattress—a new one she had bought for the Hershey home. The rainbow decorations surrounded her and painted false positivity over her somber mood. It gave her the energy to pick up her phone and speed-dial her sister's number. Quiet bzz bzz noises sounded off from the ringing, but she didn't have to hear it long. Four seconds later, her little sister picked up.

"You abandoned me!"

The shout caused Y/n to wince. By "abandoned," Jessy meant Y/n didn't answer her fourteen thousand messages about cooking in 0.5 nanoseconds. If Y/n didn't answer in less than a minute, Jessy threw a (pretend) temper tantrum. Yes, the fifteen-year-old threw hissy fits for attention. At least the fits were funny, not mean.

"I can die of loneliness, I'll have you know," Jessy said, and Y/n could hear the pout in her tone.

"Then it's a good thing you're never alone."

With Y/n deciding to live in Hershey while Jessy stayed in the City, a caretaker, AKA their father's best friend Michael, helped her out. Her condition made it so she couldn't exert herself too much, and everyday tasks were more strenuous for her than they were for the average person. Michael kept her calm and did the chores for her. Cooking was the extent of her abilities. Any more and she'd suffer from overheating.

The young teen whined before she spoke again. "But I miss you. When are you coming home?"

Her drive had been a one-way ticket. Jessy would join her in about a year, but after raising Jessy borderline by herself, Y/n sought to explore what life held for her.

She had graduated not long ago. Unlike her peers, she had no student debt thanks to her father's impressive salary, but that didn't change how she held a degree with no purpose if she didn't get a job. Hershey allowed her to pursue a life of writing without the noisy distractions of the City or the constant messes from Jessy dropping her cereal, wetting her bed after not having the strength to get up in the middle of the night, and not having the ability to clean up after cooking.

"I'm not coming home, Jessy. We talked about this. You'll come out here with Michael next year after I'm all settled in, okay?" Y/n asked, but she couldn't continue speaking since Jessy took over, ranting about needing to cook with Y/n. It was sweet, but after fifteen years of raising Jessy, she deserved a vacation.

Harry nibbled on the ends of Y/n's hair. She tugged the strands away and glanced at the door, realizing Jimin had no blankets or pillows. As much as she disliked him, she wouldn't sleep well knowing he had nothing to keep him warm or at least comfortable. So, she waited for Jessy to finish before plastering a smile on her lips. It didn't matter that Jessy couldn't see it; Y/n hoped it would transfer into her words.

"We'll cook together again soon, but I have to go. There's an issue with the house I have to fix before I sleep. I'll text later, alright? I love you. Listen to Mike, you know how hard he works."

Jessy lowered her voice. They bickered as any siblings did, but when seriousness dawned on them, her voice went from strained and scratchy to charming and soft. "Okaaay. I love you too, and I'll be waiting for that text. Stay safe."

Y/n returned the sentiment before hanging up and patting Harry's head. She stood, grabbed an extra blanket from her duffel bag, and sacrificed one of her four pillows to give to the demon in her living room. After gathering the sacred materials, she strolled out of her space, but he wasn't in the living room turned kitchen. That left the study. She ventured in there, creaking the door open. As soon as it parted, she dropped everything, including her jaw.

"Dude, knock!" a naked Jimin said in a high-pitched yelp.

The demon was sprawled out on the couch with the light from the broken window behind him soaking his bare body in golden rays. Beads of sweat trailed down his neck and swirled around the dips of his collarbones. His biceps flexed from the angle he lay in, and his wide thighs spread to show what Y/n never wanted to see.

Jimin quirked a brow when she didn't move. "What? If I'm not gonna get pussy tonight, can I at least jerk off in peace? Sheesh, women these days." His words failed to snap her back to her senses. Instead, she stood there with the poor blankets and pillow gathered by her feet. "Oh my God, you dumb fucking egg. You have about as many brain cells as an Easy-Bake Oven. Take a hint and leave."

She kicked the materials into the study and slammed the door. When the boom! from the dramatic exit ricocheted through her, she pressed her back against the wall to steady herself and process what she had seen.

The demon had been jerking off on her couch. Hers. Half of her wanted to storm in and beat him with a slipper, but the rational half forced her to retreat to her bed and slink under the covers. When she did, she cuddled with Harry. She'd have to set up his cage and put him in before she fell asleep, but she opted to hold him and contemplate what the fuck happened to her life. All at once, everything changed.

And she had a feeling it was going to get worse.

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A/N: Jimin is a unique person/demon, ain't he?