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#man I just miss being around other human beings it’s crazy
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Mistaken Identities (dp x dc)
Danny had been doing his thing, looking around, making sure he didn't alter anything in the past, minding his own business. Officially, this was supposed to be a trip to gather more blood blossom samples for Team Phantom to study, but he had ended up being a little sidetracked. Apparently though, puritan times made for beautiful forests, sue him if he was enjoying a moment of peace in his otherwise crazy life. So here he was, relaxing for the first time in way too long when this guy just barged into the clearing. Danny straightened up with a yelp which had the guy stopping in his tracks before he turned to look at Danny.
"Be not afraid, child. I mean you no harm," the man said.
Danny squinted as he looked up at the half-shadowed face of the man that seemed vaguely familiar.
"Boy?"
"Uh-" Danny managed as he realized he was supposed to answer. "Oh yeah, no problem, man."
The man tilted his head which directed Danny's attention to his weird buckle-hat. Sobering up as he recognized the clothes from his previous jaunt in the past where Sam had almost gotten burnt at the stake, he mentally congratulated himself for turning back into a human before his nap. He really didn't want to end up trapped in blood blossoms by witch-finders again.
"Are you lost?" The man said, as he edged closer. "Do you require aid?"
The halfa jumped to his feet. "Nope!" Danny said before letting out a nervous laugh. "No aid, I'm all good. Thanks though."
The man opened his mouth to say something before another voice, higher pitched stopped him. "You are back!" A woman wearing a simple dress, with a few birds fluttering around her like a Disney princess approached them.
"Annie," answered the man.
"Come," she said before leading him away with only a glance towards the teenager. The man let himself be dragged away, but not before a last few words. "If you are ever in need of assistance, please do not hesitate."
Danny waved his hand. "Yep. For sure, dude. Thanks!"
Then before the man had turned away completely, the woman grabbed his hat playfully which revealed his face completely to the weak moonlight, and coincidentally to Danny's view. The couple disappeared between the thick foliage as Danny sat, struck dumb with what he had just witnessed.
"Oh my god," he whispered to himself. "That was Bruce fucking Wayne."
Danny had seen enough rag magazines and newspapers with his face printed on the cover to recognize the billionaire for sure. What the hell was he doing in Puritan times? Then, it hit Danny like a brick. Natural portals. They weren't common, or stable and they'd been known to spirit away people randomly. Clearly, they also had some pretty severe side-effects including amnesia considering the old-timey speech pattern Mr. Wayne was using.
There was only one thing for it, Danny clearly had to bring Mr. Wayne back to the present. Not only because it was the right thing to do, but also because a missing billionaire was bound to attract a good amount of attention and if anyone connected this to the ghost zone... Well if the GIW was bad now, Danny didn't want to know what other kind of unsavoury people would pop up if ghosts were better-known. Just imagining the Justice League getting involved was giving Danny the shivers. No, the best thing to do was get Mr. Wayne back to his time and hope he wouldn't remember much of what had happened and wouldn't dig into it further.
Just as he was nodding to himself, he heard a scream coming from not too far away. He transformed before flying towards the noise, only to find the woman he'd seen before with Mr. Wayne being captured by a bunch of men wearing the same kinds of hat.
"She's a witch! Burn her!" He heard someone yell. "Hang her dead!" Someone else said.
This was giving Danny some major flashback to Sam's very own witch burning and without wasting a second, he phased the woman right out of their grips and flew them away from the angry mob.
As soon as he landed and let go of the woman, she turned to him and gripped his arm instead. "You have to help him!"
"Help who?" Danny asked, wincing.
"Mordecai!" she said, her grip tight.
"Is that the man who was with you earlier?" the teenager asked.
The woman nodded before pointing southeast. "He is in the caves, fighting the dragon!"
Danny didn't waste anytime before flying in the direction she had pointed to. Going intangible helped with speed, and he phased through the ground, going straight for the aforementioned cave. He just phased through when he caught sight of Mr. Wayne. As he got closer, he could feel some sort of energy radiating from the man. Just then, the energy started building up and Mr. Wayne started to go transparent. Panicking, Danny did the first thing he could think of and absorbed the mounting energy to himself. It felt like a shot of adrenaline except way, way stronger and for a moment everything blanked out, before the world came into focus again. When he looked around, he couldn't find a trace of Mr. Wayne, but from the energy left over he could tell exactly when he had landed. The Golden Age of Piracy.
"Goddamit!" Danny yelled as he once again felt Bruce Wayne slip through his grasp as he stole away the potent energy from the billionaire's body before it could follow wherever he was going next. First it had been pirates, then the Wild West and lastly it was 20th century Gotham, clearly the natural portal had been all kinds of fucked up for Mr. Wayne to have been dragged from time period to time period. It was a miracle he was even still alive, the poor man! Danny let out a harsh sigh as he parsed out through the information the energy had left him with. This time he'd gotten the information for the two next time-jumps, which meant, Danny could get ahead of this for once and finally catch Mr. Wayne before he could jump again.
With a steadying intake of breath, Danny took out the Infiniv-map and set his destination before he let himself follow through. As he got through he could hear a bunch of different voices, all talking over each other.
"-distortions mean what I think it-"
"-not fair!"
"-time is breaking-"
"-only leave his body once he's dead."
Danny paid no mind as he locked eyes on Mr. Wayne who was lying in Wonder Woman's arms, in a black bodysuit, looking worse for the wear. The same energy as before was emanating from him, though this time it was even stronger. Danny approached carefully, invisible before he put a hand onto Mr. Wayne's chest and concentrated on drawing all the energy into himself. It wasn't like the other times, the flow was faster and he was having trouble staying focused as more and more flew into him. His brows scrunched in concentration, and unbeknownst to him, the invisibility dropped.
All the heroes in the room turned to look at the suddenly appearing white-haired teen who had a hand on Batman's chest. As they stared in confusion, the teen started to glow. It grew brighter and brighter before everyone had to shield their eyes as there was a pulse of bright light that died down almost immediately after. Wonder Woman had to blink the spots out of her vision as she felt the weight in her arms start to shift and let out a groan. "Bruce!"
She set him down and helped him put his head between his knees, as she gently stroked his back. Superman settled on his other side while Red Robin just sat in front of him, still half-believing Bruce was really back.
"What happened?" Bruce mumbled. "The omega radiation, I thought-"
"I'd like to know that too," Green Lantern said before he turned towards the glowy kid who was still blinking his eyes as if to chase away afterimages.
"His energy signature is the same as Darkseid," Raven said, her own eyes having not left the teenager since he had appeared.
"You don't mean..." started Superman as all the heroes turned to look at the kid slowly. The latter finally looked up as if sensing he was the focus of many eyes and cringed as he met the combined stares of the Justice League.
"Yes," Raven answered. "This is Darkseid's son."
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rs-hawk · 2 months
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Another version of Bestie’s Werewolf Brother where you two have fallen out of contact for years and when he finds out you’re having a baby with someone else because you start being friends with his sister again and he gets really possessive and starts stalking you again. He finds out you’re a single mom and suddenly he realizes he just wants a baby with you even if it’s not his pup 🥺❣️Mostly fluff plz but I’d love some smut too
Not you bringing out this trope when I literally posted it’s my fave. Lol. No smut all fluff but I might do more with this if y’all like it 🥰
When you got pregnant your boyfriend acted like he was happy. He lavished you in compliments and told everyone how excited he was to be starting a family with you. Your childhood bestie and you even reconnected, her excited about baby names and planning your baby shower. It’s like you picked up right where you left off.
When you ask about her brother, she’s obviously uncomfortable. She comes up with all kinds of excuses about why he doesn’t want to talk to you, or why he seemed to have just vanished off social media recently. You can’t help but feeling hurt but you keep it to yourself.
When you catch your boyfriend cheating on you, you end up packing up all your stuff in a night and moving back in with your parents. It sucks. You can’t help but feel like a failure. You start going for walks more at the local park, just trying anything to keep your mind off your predicament.
“Hey,” you heard a familiar voice say from behind you.
You didn’t know that he had already been stalking you for months. Ever since he found out you were pregnant. He thought he could get past it, get past you, but hearing that you had been with someone else drove him crazy. He wanted to be angry with you. To hate you, even, and that other man’s baby, but the longer he stalked you, the more he realized how much he missed you. How he just wanted to be around you again.
“Hi,” you said as you turned around, awkwardly holding your arms in front of your stomach. You knew he knew, but you couldn’t help but wish this wasn’t the first time he was seeing you after all these years.
“It looks like you’re doing well.”
You shrugged, moving your arms and shoving your hands in your pockets. “I guess.”
“My sister said you’re… getting engaged,” he managed to get out without growling.
“We were, but some stuff happened. I’m living back at home until I can find a place.”
He knew he shouldn’t be happy, but he was. After that, he started offering to help you with everything. Need someone to drive you to an OBGYN appointment? Needed help putting the bassinet together? Couldn’t figure out which kind of car seat to get? He was always there and offering to help.
You were surprised, pleasantly so. You’d never thought much about it, but you didn’t think that he would be so involved in your pregnancy when 1) you weren’t dating and 2) it wasn’t his baby. As the weeks passed, he started asking to touch your stomach when he saw movement. He came to your parents’ house all hours of the day if you even hinted that you wanted to see him or if you wanted something.
When you went into labor, your mother took you, much to his disappointment. He came to visit you of course, but he seemed a little off when he came in. His head was down, and he wasn’t nearly as imposing as he normally was, especially considering he was mostly shifted. Then a nurse came back in with the baby after giving a bath.
“Oh! Here’s Dad,” she smiled as she placed the small bundle in his arms, though she did admittedly look a little uneasy.
You started to correct her, but he just started at the little one in his arms with wide eyes. You’d never seen him be so gentle. His ears were perked up, and you couldn’t help but notice his tail started to wag. He shushed you mid-sentence as you tried telling the nurse he wasn’t the dad.
“Human babies are so tiny,” he whispered, rocking the baby in his arms.
The nurse looked between you before slipping out. He stayed almost the entire time you were in the hospital. Even your parents left more often than him. While he was attentive to you, he was even more attentive to the baby. Asking the nurses to show him how to swaddle. Reading up on when human babies can eat solid food (because it’s just a couple months for pups).
He’s the one that took you home. Your parents are excited when they see his car pull up and you’re admittedly a little confused. When you get inside, you see that he took it upon himself to baby proof everything. He put together an entire nursery when you were just going to have the baby sleep in your room in the bassinet. He even sprung to get a crib since he had read online that infants can only be in bassinets for a few months.
That’s when you realize that he really is the best for you. He’s always been the best for you, and he’s the best for your baby too. The baby fell asleep in his arms before he settled the tiny bundle into the crib. Tears pricked your eyes as you wrapped your arms around his back, burying your face in his shoulder.
“You’ll stay, right?”
A low rumble in his chest vibrated your body when he spun around, grabbing you up in his arms. “I’ll never leave again.”
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yanderestarangel · 6 days
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Hi can I request Yandere Bi Han mortal kombat x male reader who is a normal human has no powers just lives his life normally headcanons of how he would be as a Yandere but you can also put a little smut in it.🥰❤️😍
yandere!bi han x male reader ౨ৎ ⋆🎀。˚ [ HUMAN AU ]
TW ┆dark themes, au, violence, manipulation, non con, dub con, ftm reader, rough sex, age gap, stalking, emotional dependence, threat, v!sex, breedkink, praise, smut, mind break, eat out, anal, blowjob.
ʚɞ a/n: I need to make a bot on this concept.
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♡ ┆I really like to think that Bi Han would be a martial arts teacher who works at some martial arts academy, he has always been extremely serious and stoic but has a love for his family roots of grandmasters and skilled fighters ─ he wouldn't differ too much from his persona as Sub Zero, without powers. The Asian would live a normal life in China and have a calm routine going to the gym teaching classes from morning until afternoon and going to sleep at night too tired to think about anything else.
♡ ┆He would go out on the weekends to visit his brother Kuai Liang who lives with his wife Harumi on the other side of the city and has a renowned clothing store in the city center. He can't feel many things other than coldness and is very closed to everything and everyone, being the typical "bossy" person in the room.
♡ ┆Bi Han couldn't take a life like this anymore, he tried dating but couldn't feel the same intensity as his former partners - which always led to nights of quick sex just to satisfy his carnal desires. Riding a motorcycle around was also his passion, something to distract him from intrusive thoughts on lonely Sundays ── He would also have several tattoos adorning his muscles and biceps.
♡ ┆But everything changed when you arrived in his life unexpectedly. You were looking for self-defense classes to feel safer but from the moment you entered his gym the long-haired man's cold heart practically melted and missed a beat momentarily, as if everything slowed down in his lap for moments and he just I could see you in front of me.
♡ ┆He was... Friendly with you, he managed to smile and even make small jokes which was new even for him, as if you had unlocked something in him. You talked about self-defense classes and he smiled widely for some unknown reason he offered private classes in the afternoon at no extra cost making you stay under the free and spontaneous pressure of the fight teacher.
♡ ┆So it all started there. You became his obsession and his point of fixation... He wanted to make you love him and make you just his. It was a crazy thought since he barely knew you, but not for long. You were his man, you needed to be his.
♡ ┆The self-defense classes started with Bi Han going easy on you, a few easy jabs and among them were the "innocent" questions that came out of his mouth, your relationship status, where you lived, how old you were, what your foods were favorites and your hobbies ─ a little interrogation disguised as a genuine concern from your coach.
♡ ┆You also noticed how he liked to press your body against his, keeping you close to his muscles while showing you how many times he could easily break you in half if he wanted. "You really are a cute creature aren't you? How long are you really uh?" Bi Han would speak in a deep voice as he stood behind you and held your body lightly with a muay thai movement making you look at the reflection of the two of you in the mirror ─ his brown eyes boring into you, he could make you scream and beg for him but... Not at that moment he wanted you to come to him because he wanted to, so he soon let you go and smiled sideways. "You need to improve your defense, little boy, let's practice the blow again ok?" he said, turning his back to you and adjusting his clothes slightly while trying to ignore how hard his dick was in his pants and how his pulse was racing just from touching you.
♡ ┆You would find yourself getting closer and closer to the older Asian, he would invite you to dinner with him, or a walk even offering to take you home, after all according to him "pretty boys like you attract wolves." And he was certainly one of those wolves a silent and effective predator in his goals.
♡ ┆He can easily manipulate you and get into your mind with lies, saying that the neighborhood is very dangerous, that delicate boys like you should stay alert and let him take care of everything and take you home every day, a less invasive way of enter your life without causing much suspicion for you or third parties.
♡ ┆When you least realized it, Bi Han would already be at your house, talking to your family and pretending to be the ideal companion you needed ─ a man who cared about you and only wanted the best for you. So he soon starts to put pressure on you, saying that he could help you more intimately, that you couldn't be alone in an unknown country and even offering to marry you so you could stay permanently in China ── things escalated so quickly it made you dizzy; but you were a strong man at first and ignored all the advances he made towards you until then. What led the man to use unconventional methods to make you his.
♡ ┆He started stalking you knowing exactly where you went and placing staplers in your house, always on alert in case you tried to find another relationship besides him. He would start playing psychological games with you, knocking on your windows in the middle of the night and entering your house at night to see you shaking in fear at every loud noise and dropped things he did, quickly hiding in the shadows and watching you like a damn ghost. It didn't take long for you to be psychologically shaken, mainly because he combined all of this with anonymous messages sent to your numbers with threats like "I'll see you from here" "there's no point in covering the windows" "I'm inside your house." You were so mentally fragile that you went looking for the only safe haven you could have at that moment in unknown territory... Your martial arts teacher, Bi Han, the same man who caused all this from the shadows.
♡ ┆So soon you would find yourself accepting his support, even leaving self-defense classes because he himself said he could protect you. He has been living at your house for a while ── However, he would soon change his mind, saying that it would be better for you to go to his apartment because your 'stalker' could come back there while he was away, it was the perfect excuse for him to have you under his control. Soon you lived more in Bi Han's house than in your own staying at his mercy, it was worth it for him to spend a whole month playing the terror in your mind, after all, now he finally had you all to himself. You will be spoiled with the good and the best, foods, clothes and the affection of the older man ─ movie nights watching movies and tight hugs with Bi Han's hair tickling your face... You've never had someone who cared about you as much as he did, so it wasn't difficult to develop an emotionally dependent relationship with him.
♡ ┆You would also marry him a few months later, convinced by him because you needed to stay in the country and have a better life, but with the marriage certificate also came his possession slowly climbing the surface... He calls you "cute hubby" and made a point of leaving you at his house when he left, under lock and key and away from the madness of the world. Bi Han had a perfect life now you were dependent on him in every aspect, especially mentally since he even took you away from your own family to keep it for himself and now he really he felt alive, with a beautiful boy by his side, the true love of his life in a completely sick and twisted way, just like his mind.
♡ ┆If you tried to leave his domain he would have to make you his carnally, biting you and holding you tightly to the nearest wall of the room and looking deep into your eyes. "I gave you everything, baby boy, You won't dare leave here, right? The world out there is cruel and dirty and you were born to be taken care of by someone, to be submissive to someone, do you hear?" And it wouldn't take long for you to become a trembling mess, clinging to his muscles for support as he pounded his dick into your pussy, with force and even cruelty to mark his territory in you ── he would hold your thighs and your neck with another hand, making you look at him with each rough thrust of his cock ─ the wet and obscene noise filled your ears and made you moan even more his dick was so good that with every kiss his tip had on your uterus you could feel your brain shut down for a few seconds making the asian laugh and whisper in your ear "good boy, a good boy for your owner hm? You're going to take all my cock with that beautiful pussy, aren't you? You're going to take all my cum and be a little slut who only thinks about sit on my dick until you get everything you want... So fucking beautiful..." He would leave you dripping with cum and with a sore clit.
♡ ┆On the bed, on the floor, in the bathroom, in the living room, even on the kitchen counter, Bi Han would fuck you all over the apartment. No hole of yours will be left out, you would have a sore throat from sucking his dick and having him force you to deep throat him or with him between your legs for at least an hour even if you were shaking and in pain he wouldn't stop eating out your cunt, until he left your flesh red and overstimulated by him. He will also fuck your ass while sticking two fingers in your pussy and making you moan loudly as he thrusts his hips against yours, praise pouring into your ears while you just moaned his name. "fucking hell-!, so beautiful and so broken ─ you're such a good slut begging for me like that, you want more, slutty boy? Want me to fill you up again?" He would moan hoarsely between slutty smiles and rhythmic skin-to-skin slaps ── After that you wouldn't think about leaving or going back to your old life, you belonged to him now and you were happy being his husband. Too broken to think about getting away.
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Why You Shouldn't Care About Theme (as a writer)
"Theme" is another word like "worldbuilding" and "plot hole" that writers put way too much stock into without clear definition. It's often thought to be one of the most important things in your story, one of the defining traits of creative writing, but it can be hard to pin down, and some pervasive definitions are actively harmful to the writing process. Let's talk about that.
A common misconception about theme is that it's the story's "message." Under this definition, a theme of The Great Gatsby would be that generation wealth is a hollow substitute for genuine human enrichment, love, etc. A theme of Hamlet would be to not kill yourself. But this idea of a book's message misses the point of why we read at all. Reading is a relationship between the author and the reader; to interpret text, the author puts their experiences in writing, and you bring your experiences to its reading. In other words, you as the reader create meaning from a story. You give the story its messages. The author's only purpose is to transcribe their worldview and experiences, and the best authors can sway the empathy of the reader towards those experiences. Anything greater than this, any book that moralizes, preaches, dictates, is gaudy, emotional propaganda. Imagine a novel where throughout the book, the author is telling you about the toxic environmental effects of unwalkable cities. While true, narrative fiction is a realm of characters and story, not essays. Readers pull meaning from a novel because they think and feel about a character's struggle and relate it to their own. So a message about The Great Gatsby is that generation wealth is hollow because we as readers live in an age of unprecedented wealth disparity; a message about Hamlet is to not kill yourself because we as readers have felt pretty down in the dumps sometimes and have maybe thought about suicide. But our experiences could be different: if we're generationally wealthy, we might read Gatsby as a celebration; if we have an awful stepfather, we might read Hamlet first as a story of revenge than of introspection. Strong authors make you sympathize with the experiences they've gone through--Fitzgerald himself was a wealthy, popular man and saw firsthand the effects of wealth, and Shakespeare probably felt rough around the emotional edges at times--but ultimately, deciding a text's "messages" is up to the reader.
So if we can't control the messages of our writing, what is theme? I like to think of it as "whatever a text is about," and that about word carries some ambiguity. Is Gatsby about money? Yes, but there's more to that. You can think right now about a plot element your WIP is about, but as authors, we want to find that greater depth. That's what we call theme.
Common writing advice tells you to plot out your theme, that greater depth, before drafting the novel. Figure out that Gatsby is a story about generational wealth being a hollow substitute for romance before anything else. But when you think about it, this is crazy advice. Themes like this can only come from our characters and how they interact with the world, and how our characters act is always going to stray in some way away from our plans for them. Writing that deeper theme, then, is impossible to plan (unless you're the most extreme plotter and have found success like that, then keep doing what you're doing. But you reading this almost certainly are not in that camp, let's be honest). So how do we get there?
Before you start drafting, think about the surface-level "abouts." Don't go deep yet. Just think about what's pressing on your mind. If you want to take a very slight moralistic bent here, do so, but be sure not to go into specifics (that's for the characters to do). For my first novel, I wanted to write about friendship responsibilities, family responsibilities, and friendship; for my second novel, church camp, romance, and evangelical culture; for my current novel, the role of story in culture, honor, familial trauma, and cultural perceptions of gender. Some of these took on moral detail--evangelical culture is bad--but most didn't. As you're writing, your characters will discover that deeper meaning. Again, your characters have to and will by nature of being part of the narrative. Your readers interact with the story, not with you.
In my first novel, I came to the thematic conclusion that too many responsibilities degrade individual identity, but too few leave someone empty; in the second novel, I concluded that evangelical culture places restrictive boxes on what romance looks like, and on how to interact with and resolve traumatic events. But I didn't come up with these--my characters did, and I learned from them in the exact same way any reader would. Similarly, a reader might interact with my characters and come to completely different conclusions. This is normal, okay, and encouraged.
You may also find other themes popping up as you write. In my second novel, popularity and social capital became a huge cog in the machine. Let these fresh themes surprise you, and run with them.
Ultimately, you can't control what your readers take away from your story. Your goal as a writer is to create characters so rich and deep and intimate (not in the romantic sense, unless you're into that) that the reader can bring their experiences to the text and find meaning. We cannot worry about this before starting a writing project, because we can't control it, and thinking too much about it will muddy the waters of what actually matters, what we can affect. And when you start to sense those deeper meanings emerging in your story, run with them, flesh them out, and embody them in the struggles of characters.
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rowretro · 18 days
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𝕮𝖍𝖊𝖘𝖍𝖎𝖗𝖊
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✧warnings: Yandere/toxic themes, Cheshire Riki, manipulation ig? mentions of going mad, blood, mentions of abuse, mentioned of being stoned
❁synopsis: Y/n is a very curious girl, and incredibly creative, having grown up in a heartless, cold, boring family, others always ponderred if the mother perhaps had an affair. She's so sweet and cheery and always curious. Her head always in may books, shows, as she feeds off of whatever knowledge gains... In fact she herself started wanderring whether hse was going mad....
✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧
Y/n was stuck in her room, her arms and legs all scratched up and bloody, she sat on the floor of her now, somewhat messy room. There and then she cried. Her eyes landed on the book above her vanity, she got up, limping, tripping over one of her stuffed toys, as she gripped onto the frame of the mirror, her face landing right on the mirror. However to her surprise, she didn't shatter it, or hurt her face, in fact she saw a whole new world.
Perhaps she had hit her head a little too hard and she was now in the afterlife? She immediately pulled away with all her might. Not a scratch on her face. She didn't even hurt herself. Curious, she reached her hand out to touch the mirror again, the mirror rippling as her hand went right. through the mirror. She looked back at her messy room then back at the mirror.
There's a whole crazy world on the other side of that mirror, No boring beings, senseless story books, long science essays that are meant to feed one's knowledge. Maybe behind the silver there's a whole dreamland. Smiling she stepped through the mirror. Boy was she stunned. Shocked, but she loved what she was seeing. "Oi mind your step!" a tulip yelled from beneath her foot.
"Oops- sorry sirmaam maamsir?-" she questioned, as she stared up at the sky "Ooh score tree candy!" she smiled, trying to reach for the gumdrop, only for the tree branch to suddenly go up "awh- can't I have candy mrmissmrrsmx tree?" Y/n asked, assuming the tree would also talk. A smile appeared mid air, and there, a handsome fucking man, smiling mischievously whilst staring down at her. "Well you're one cute lil kitty~" Riki said with a smile.
Since that very moment, everything seemed to be a blur. Y/n woke up gasping for air, there on the ground of her messy room. She had one very vivid, crazy dream, it felt so real yet she barely remembered most of it. She could only make out the figures of actual, human-sized solitaire cards chasing her down, A queen with a heart-shaped head. A white rabbit quite like her pet one, except it's male and it talks.
"Is there a chance I was stoned?" she asked herself as she shrugged, sitting up, there on her wall, surrounding the frame of her mirror, are solitaire cards. Is this some sort of Deja vu? Her shaky hands reached out toward the mirror, touching it. Yet she just left a finger print. It was just a dream. "No it wasn't sweetheart." Shocked, she turned to where that deep, dreamy yet familiar voice was heard. It's the Cheshire man.
"Have I officially gone mad? it's said that too much knowledge makes a human go mad" Y/n asked as the man snickerred, teleporting before her. "Everyone's mad here my darling..." he said "Darling?... no one's ever called me that-" She admittingly said. Riki smirked, walking around her in circles, tutting as he admired every inch of her "What a princess what a princess... why don't you do the honours miss Heart, and be my darling wife?" the handsome man asked as he stared down at her.
"Y/N. WHO ARE YOU TALKING TO?!" a woman screamed from the entrance, her eyes doubling in size as she noticed her daughter talking to thin air. "I KNEW IT. WE SHLDN'T HAVE ADOPTED SOME RANDOM 5 YEAR OLD THAT WAS PAINTING ON BRICK WALLS.... WE CAN'T HAVE A MAD WOMAN IN THE HOUSE. NO ONE'D MARRY YOU." she screamed. Ah yes, marriage. She's nothing but a pretty doll to sell to the richest man that'll treat her like his sex slave as he slept with other women, just so her so called family could have the money they want.
As the woman picked up a sharp dagger to stab poor y/n, she suddenly dropped dead, the very dagger pierced into her heart. "It seems you have no other choice my darling... you have to come back with me. Marry me. Let me love you in the place I call home, and you call your dreamland... if you stay here, they'll torture you cand claim that you killed her...." Riki explained as Y/n stood there frozen. Sure the woman was cruel and unloving, but she's still her mother...
"She isn't your real mother darling...... I know you're real mother... The queen of hearts." The male said, nothing but truth in his mouth. "You know you can trust my y/n... I know everything about you... I've been watching you through this mirror, my poor princess, so creative, curious and darling.... being mistreated in this dungeon.... let me take you home~" he said, opening a portal in the mirror. She had no choice, the guards had discovered the body... so through the mirror she went... into her wonderland.
✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧
a/n: Idk if this is very yandere or if u cld wrap ur head around it, I'll try to be more active for now my darlings as I will be pretty inactive due to a-levels and soon even uni and work etc etc, I'll work through my requests<3
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celtic-crossbow · 3 months
Text
Whumpuary Day 15-16 & 25-26
Prompt: “You look awful.” | “I’m fine.”
Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Depictions of illness; vomiting; allusions to symptoms of stomach virus
A/N: Daryl’s human so humans with stomach bugs experience icky symptoms. There are allusions to those but nothing gross.
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You were bouncing on the balls of your feet, your lip securely tucked between your teeth in anticipation. Carol chuckled behind you and patted a hand between your shoulder blades. 
“I think you’re actually vibrating, Y/N.” She laughed a little louder when you beamed at her before it softened into something a bit gentler. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone other than Judith so excited to see Daryl come back. Well, and me but that’s a given.”
“It’s been two weeks. I’ve been going out of my mind!” You made a crazy gesture with your hands and then clasped them together again and continued bouncing. 
“How does he do around all this…energy?” You went still and blinked at her, a great many questions swirling in your gaze. “No, no. It’s not a bad thing! You’re good for him. Great for him. I just wanted to make sure he’s not being a total grump and raining on your parade.”
Pursing your lips, you tilted your head. “No, not really. I mean, at first it was like he didn’t know what to do when I would do a cartwheel through the living room. He just stared a lot. But he smiled!” Daryl always smiled for you. In the beginning, it was only in private. All of it was. He was wary of you. 
You had lived in Alexandria since the beginning. Knowing now what you didn’t know then, he was justified in holding back, keeping secrets. When you had proven to be just the average person trying to survive, it was like a switch had flipped. He’d show up at your house unexpectedly. Sometimes you’d find him just sitting on the porch steps, having a cigarette. Other times, he’d actually knock and ask you to go for a walk. He even taught you how to defend yourself with and without weapons. He wouldn’t teach you to hunt though. Always said you’d scare off the game. 
Things evolved from there. It started small. Daryl wasn’t the type of man who enjoyed public displays of affection. Well, he wasn’t before you came along. He would still blush and duck his head if you kissed him in public. You were always the one to grab his hand but he never pulled away. Hugs were okay but he’d yelp (in a very manly way of course) when you’d grab or swat at his ass. 
It had been nearly two years and you couldn’t imagine life without the grumpy, quiet bowman. 
“I’m glad he found you.” Carol wrapped her arm around your shoulders, kissing the top of your head when you laid it against her. You were about to say something else when the shout came to open the gates. 
You jumped up and down, jostling the woman beside you but even as she laughed, you paid her no mind. Your eyes followed the man on the motorcycle. He rode through faster than he should have, something you always scolded him for but he’d only scoff at you. 
“You’re back!” You leapt on him, wrapping your legs around his waist, just as his boot touched the ground after dismounting the bike. “I missed you!”
“Ain’t been tha’ long.” He spoke into your shoulder. His arms held you steady but if he had let go, he would have found you securely latched to his front. 
“It’s been two weeks! That’s the equivalent of forever!” You pulled back and pouted at him, your lip jutting out further when he lowered you. “You hurt? Bring back all your parts?”
“Nah, M’good.” He answered tiredly. Your eyes narrowed when you realized how exhausted he actually looked; something off by the way he was even just standing still. 
“I think we should get you to bed and not for the fun stuff. Not yet anyway.” You stepped around him and retrieved his bag and crossbow, smacking his hand when he reached to take them from you. “I got it. Come on.” He was grumbling something about stubborn woman as he walked just beside you. 
You watched him from the corner of your eye, making certain to be discrete. Daryl would never openly show vulnerability, especially outside your home. He rarely let it be seen inside your home. At the very moment though, you weren’t sure if he realized he was doing it. His hand was clutching his stomach over his vest, fingers digging into the leather until his knuckles were white. His face was neutral but the pallor to his skin wasn’t something he could hide. 
You balanced his bag on your shoulder and opened the door for him, smiling cheerfully when he scowled at your special treatment. “Go on upstairs. You want a shower?”
“S’tha’ yer way’a tellin’ me I stink?”
“Yes, sir.” You noticed his hand had left his abdomen, but was flexing at his side. “You want something to eat? There’s some leftover venison stew that I could—”
The archer blanched, any color that was left present drained from his face while his throat visibly worked to swallow convulsively. Oh shit. Before you could even put down your burden, he dashed from your sight and into the downstairs bathroom, the sounds of his retching painful to hear. 
You placed his bag on the floor and the crossbow against the wall, walking quietly to the bathroom door. When you peeked around the doorframe, Daryl was on his knees, arms draped around the toilet seat with his forehead resting on his hands. He was no longer heaving but still spitting into the water below. 
You knew what his reaction would probably be but you couldn’t act like you didn’t care. “You okay?” The archer didn’t look up. He stretched out a leg and kicked the door shut. You had the good sense to not be in the way of the wooden barrier. 
You were expecting wounds and bruises, not stomach ailments. The medical supplies you had set up in the en-suite bathroom would remain there. You hadn’t seen much of him before he was sick and he could still have injuries that needed care. Now, you needed to add some fresh towels, clothes, and a basin of water with a cloth to put by the bed. You had some Tylenol from the infirmary, just in case he needed it for pain, not anticipating he’d probably need it for fever. 
There were a few cans of chicken noodle soup that you could drain the broth from later, but for now, until the nausea passed, you went downstairs for a few bottles of water. You doubted there was any ginger ale in the pantry but if you were able to see Carol or she came for a visit, you could ask. There was no way you were leaving him for it. 
Everything was set up, including the shower. You were hoping you could coax him in just to get him clean and comfortable. With a gentle knock on the door, you placed your forehead against it, wincing at the sounds coming from inside. Seemed like the toilet and sink were receiving his attention. 
Definitely a stomach virus, but you’d have to ask about what he’d eaten the past few days to rule out food poisoning and other gastric ailments. 
“Daryl? Are you okay?”
“Go ‘way.” The reply was gravelly and weak. 
“I’ll be in the kitchen.” You replied softly, promptly walking away from the door. He was going to be ultra embarrassed after that, so you had to handle things carefully. The last thing you or he needed was for him to try and run because he was ashamed of things he had no control over. 
You set about cleaning up the kitchen, though it barely needed it. You kept everything spotless most of the time. Daryl was always out doing physical jobs while you helped with inventory or delivered meals to the elderly residents. He didn’t need to worry about the state of your home when he was able to be there. 
It was about half an hour before you heard the toilet flush and the tap turn on. It ran for longer than usual. You assumed he was washing his hands and rinsing his mouth. His toothbrush was upstairs but you made a mental note to ask for two more to keep downstairs. 
You were leaning on the kitchen island when he finally emerged. He was drenched with sweat, his face flushed from embarrassment or fever. Maybe both. His belt was still undone but his pants were zipped and buttoned. Poor guy looked like a wreck. 
“Hey.” You called softly, earning his attention. “You look awful. Are you okay?”
He nodded, the movement jerky. “Thank christ fer indoor plumbin’.” He rasped, joining you on the other side of the island. He leaned forward and placed his forehead on the cool surface of the countertop with a sigh. 
“Did you eat anything weird while you were out?” You circled the structure to stand by him and rub his back in slow, soothing circles. 
The bowman rolled his head back and forth against the countertop. “Nah. Jus’ the regular expired canned shit we could find.” It made you sad to think that this was the norm now. Relying on food that was far past the date of recommended consumption. 
“When did you eat last?” You rubbed the back of his neck, his muscles stiff and knotted. 
“Yesterday afternoon. Wanted ta get back. Didn’ go lookin’ fer anythin’ today.”
Still could be food poisoning. You’d have to ask if anyone else was sick. “Let’s get you upstairs. Think you can shower?” Daryl straightened with a grimace before nodding. You met his gaze with a gentle smile, bringing up a hand to sweep the damp hair away from his eyes. “Come on then.” A hand on the small of his back gently urged him forward, his shuffling steps and unsteady gait giving him the appearance of a living walker. 
You trailed behind him up the stairs, braced and ready in case he lost his balance, but the ascent was successful without any tumbling. The archer was shedding clothing before even reaching the bathroom, down to his jeans and socks by the time he was standing in front of the shower. 
“Do you need me to stay?” It was a reluctant question. Daryl hated it when you hovered but he was sick and exhausted so it was an offer you had to give him. 
“Nah. M’fine.” He was unzipping his jeans when you pulled the bathroom door closed behind you. 
The shower began running moments later, so you busied yourself with grabbing your own pajamas, turning down the bed, and pulling a chair over to his side. As an afterthought, you placed the room’s small wastebasket there as well. The shower was still running when you heard the unmistakable sounds of another round of vomiting, your heart clenching at the painful noises. 
“Daryl?” You called loudly enough for him to hear through the door and over the spray of water. 
“M’…m’okay.” A low, strained answer from the other side. 
With nothing else to do, you sat down on the end of the mattress to wait for him. The toilet flushed but the shower continued for several more minutes. There was a brief silence followed by a shuffle of clothing, and the sounds of him brushing his teeth. 
When the door finally opened, he looked clean in his sweats and t-shirt but no less miserable. His hair was still damp, beads of water dripping from the ends. Even as undesirable as the situation was, it was hard not to take note of how normal he looked dressed like that. It was as if you were a couple before the end of the world, spending an evening at home in comfort and without fear. But the reality was that fear was always lingering. Always. 
“Bedtime for you, mister.” 
He couldn’t even manage to scowl at you properly, ending up with a tired frown dripping with resignation. He was slow to lower onto the bed and said nothing when you pulled the blankets over him. 
“Anything need stitched or bandaged?” You asked, brushing his hair away from his face. There was always a warmth that crept into your chest when he didn’t flinch away from your loving touches. 
“Jus’ a few bruises. Nothin’ ta worry ‘bout.” When you fixed him with a skeptical stare, he sighed. “Promise.” Daryl didn’t take that word lightly and never used it carelessly. 
“Okay, try to sleep.” You perched yourself on the chair, noticing he couldn’t be bothered to care. He turned onto his side, facing you with his legs drawn up slightly. His stomach was surely angry and cramping, muscles tired from heaving on top of feeling nauseous. There was no hesitation in your hand resting just below his knee, rubbing the area in what you hoped was a comforting gesture. 
He was asleep within moments. 
Watching him grimace and tense without waking, you let your mind build scenarios and how you would handle them. If Rick came knocking with requests of the archer, you’d kindly tell him to get bent. If Carol came over, you could get her to fetch some things for you that would help keep him comfortable while he recovered. If he continued vomiting and couldn’t keep down the water at the very least, you’d need to leave long enough to grab Denise. 
Daryl woke suddenly, lurching over the side of the bed to retch into the wastebasket you had been smart enough to grab earlier. There was nothing left but acidic bile to bring up but it sounded no less brutal. You could do nothing but keep his hair out of the way and rub his back. There was a moment of consideration. Maybe if you could alert Denise, she would have something for the nausea. 
That train of thought was interrupted by the hunter shakily pushing himself back up only to sag back against his pillow. 
“Sucks.” He mumbled, eyes closed.  “Ain’t been sick since…S’been a long time.”
You were gently rubbing his stomach which he either didn’t notice or it felt nice so he allowed it to continue. 
“It won’t last forever.” You whispered, watching as he dozed off again. 
He was still resting comfortably when the knock came on the front door downstairs. Reluctantly, you rose from the chair, taking just another second to brush Daryl’s hair away from his eyes. He mumbled something, turning his head away, but remained asleep. You wanted to be quick.You just weren’t willing to leave him alone for long. 
“Hey!” Carol greeted with that gentle smile of hers. After all she’d been through, even with her apprehension about settling there in Alexandria, she was able to keep that kindness. Especially when it came to Daryl. 
“Hey.” You said, turning to look anxiously at the stairs. 
“What’s wrong? Where’s Daryl?” When you turned back to her, the smile was gone, replaced with growing concern. 
“He’s asleep. I need a favor. He’s sick. Could you grab a few things for him? Anything he might be able to keep down.” The other woman was already nodding. “Maybe put a bug in Denise’s ear in case she has anything for nausea.”
“Is he alright? Really?” Carol was leaning closer toward the doorway. It was obvious she wanted to go to him. 
“Yeah, he’s okay for now. He hasn’t thrown up in an hour or so but when he first got back…” You trailed off, looking back at the stairs again. “Could you please do all that for me? Then maybe come upstairs and see him? I know he won’t want anyone else seeing him like this. But you and me? We don’t count.” You smiled, knowing it was true. Carol and yourself were the only people Daryl was fully comfortable relaxing around. 
“You got it. I’ll be back soon.”
“I’ll leave the door unlocked.” You watched her swiftly descend the porch steps before closing the door and nearly sprinting up the stairs. The bowman was still sound asleep when you returned to the bedroom. He still looked pale but there was no fever, no signs of dehydration just yet. 
You made yourself comfortable in the chair, drawing up one knee to rest your chin on it. You’d be his silent sentinel until he was better. 
Whether he liked it or not. 
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@thegeorgiahuntsman @livingdeadblondequeen @feral4daryl @deansapplepie @walker-bait-1973 @lazyneonrabbitt @bizquake @littlelovingideas @ririi-3 @ankhmutes @blackvelveteen1339 @sokkasimp101 @lehhos @loganlostitall @callmeyn @she-who-writes-for-multi-fandoms @gutsby @isakyakiisak @in-this-minute @eljaynosine_triphosphate @abbyreedus @wifeof-barnes @bigbaldheadname @bananafire11 @graciepies @georgiadixon @esgoraths @hutchersonsgurl @she-could-never @Kenzimae67 @nessa-mayfield @ilovedilfs4eversthings @KatelynAngel @richardsamboramylove55 @m0ss-g0blin @annhells @abi67sblog @nessieart @imgeorgeclooney @brinteylovesaliens @eduardast4rgirl @ass-butt-themusical @daryldixmedown @willowaftxn83-87 @ashtonbabe @atyourmomshouse01 @dixonzzgirl @unhingedbiatch @bultamer @lumimon47 
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minimallyminnie · 10 months
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Brothers with reader who’s really good at baking!
Gn reader, fluff, fluffy, some hurt, happy!
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Lucifer
He loves it when you bake
But that being said he also hates it
For the sheer reason that everyone keeps fighting over again and again
Hell, even Barbatos and Luke threw hands the other day for a macaron from you!
That was saying something if Diavolo’s right hand man and an incredibly short angel wanted to fight for a macaron
So, to see what all the fuss was about he tried one
He never went back at all.
If Simeon or Satan or anyone were to throw hands
He would throw them to the ground
No. Hesitation.
He would probably like desserts that surprise him
Throw in a punch of cayenne pepper or something sour or crunchy and you’ll have a pleasantly surprised Lucifer
He doesn’t mind things that are simple and sweet either
Kinda like you. A simple human who’s kind to them despite how awful they can be to you at times
He stands next to you as you stir the batter and holds your face with one of his hands
As he presses a kiss to your lips, you lean in his hand
“I want you to remain with me like this…won’t you?
Mammon
You bet your arse that he’s going to freaking splurge on baking supplies
Anything for his s/o right?
He loves things with sour flavors a lot
He will pay you if he asks for you to make something for him
You don’t really mind not getting paid as long as you see your boyfriend happy but he seems to be insistent
But it’s not like anything special! He’s just paying for labor after all!
Of course he would deny it completely
He found out when he saw Beel in his demon form holding about ten muffins in his hands while Belphie was trying to get one from him
He only wants you to bake for him!
When he got the last one on the table, it was like the celestial realm went back for him or something
It was better than any of the Devildom bakeries and that was saying something
While he loves your baking, he also loves you as he proved that one day while you were baking
He wrapped his arms around your waist and when you looked back, he kissed you
“Hey, don’t mind if ya always bake by my side will ya..?”
Leviathan
Poor boy is so nervous to tell you that he wants something so he just opts for grabbing 3 of whatever you made before decking it out of the kitchen
You should tell him you can see him…
He loves it when you make themed desserts
Even more when it’s of anime he knows!
That one time you made Ruri-Chan cookies and his heart went like one of those shoujou girls
He really likes anything that’s creative!
So bored by simple flavors! He wants crazy things!
He’ll try anything you need him to, flavors, textures, scents
He’ll try to be honest about it if they look like a mess but he’ll end up stuttering more than usual
Like Mammon, he’ll deny it completely but unlike him, he’ll say it later on
He feels bad that you do basically everything so he goes out to help you wash dishes
He doesn’t mind but his brothers sure were surprised when he went out
When you kiss him as a thanks, he startles you when he pulls you back
“Y-you’re really amazing…D-don’t leave me…ok?
Satan
He doesn’t like desserts very much
You offered him a piece of angel cake (which he was incredibly annoyed at, adding on to the list of bad things that happened to him today…) and he just pushed the plate away and continued to work
You were hurt, of course but this was normal so you set the plate down next to him and went back to the kitchen to make more after the entire plate went missing
He regretted letting his sin slip out for no reason when you were just trying to do something nice so he decided to take just one bite
One bite couldn’t hurt.
Right?
Good grief he blinked and the whole piece was gone
He fell for your baking pretty fast
For you? Pretty much dropped.
He takes it out to clean later on but that night, he goes out and buys a special something for you
The next morning while everyone is out and about, you decided to stay in and bake some more
You feel a flat item nudge you in your back before turning around and seeing Satan with a rectangle gift in his hands
He gives it to you and when you open the intricately wrapped paper, there’s a baking book!
He apologizes, saying it wasn’t his intention to hurt you but you shush him with a kiss
Leaving the book on the counter you hold your arms around him
In return, he comes back from his surprise and holds you as he kisses your head
“For all the times I’ve been quiet I want to tell you to stay with me forever.”
Asmodeus
The first time he sees your baking he’s like
Astonished
He has to post this on Devilgram!!!!
Asmodeus takes about a hundred pictures of the cupcake before he looks around and takes one back to his room
Like a lot of the bakeries he’s tried, it’ll probably only be good in the appearance part
The taste? Probably shit.
But doesn’t mean he won’t try!
Well, look who’s going to be asking you for baked goods every week now.
He doesn’t care if it’ll go to his thighs or not, it tastes heavenly!
He’ll squeal in delight after the last bite, craving for more.
When you decide to make them in front of everyone, flour on your apron and buttercream on the side of your cheek, everyone is watching carefully at the cakes.
You swirl the cream over the cakes, sprinkling some tiny lemon flavored sprinkles before carefully placing bigger lemon looking candies on top of each one intricately
You wipe your head with your sleeve and grin at your hard work, taking just one photo which he thinks is blasphemy! Just one photo of beautiful cupcakes?! Are you crazy?!
You then tell them to enjoy while walking off to wash the dishes and everyone makes a go at it
The 24 cupcakes are gone in seconds, he took only two though intentionally
While the brothers go to the living room to fight, he goes to you when you’re done drying the dishes and handing you one. He presses a kiss to your cheek, smiling at your happiness
“My my! These cupcakes are adorable but you still are way better than them! Would you make these for me until the very end dear~?”
Beelzebub
WNDKDKDKDKWKE
Oh this man would be so down bad
He’s the avatar of gluttony and either way, he liked to eat in the Celestial Realm too
So first thing of his day, normal average (as you can get) day at home
He sees a plate on the table, he eats
Simple as that.
He sees his brothers actually fighting him for the plate to which he just gives it to them
He has one after all, what’s the harm in giving the rest to his brothers?
Well, they all had cleaning duty from you for the whole week after he ate the eclair
He wanted more.
That was the most heavenly devilishly amazing dessert he’s tasted in devildom and the Celestial Realm
Beelzebub now sneaks inside the kitchen when you’re there and watches you bake from step 1 to the end
You don’t mind, he’s quiet, washes his hands, offers to help hold or mix something
Who doesn’t get tired when they’re hand mixing something?
You also like the company, talking to a bowl of flour is…kinda boring when it doesn’t talk back. Beel will tell you what he thinks if you ask him, taste testing (which he loves even more now) or appearances
Even just listening to you talk while he stands or sit next to you, it’s nice and peaceful
The brothers eventually do come down and fight for the desserts before rushing back into their rooms like wasps and you just wash the dishes with him
When you’re done, you hand a tray of hidden tarts to Beel expecting him to devour all of them
But he just takes one, break it in half and gives it to you
You don’t expect it since he’s usually not so forward but he presses a kiss to your lips and blushes after
“I like it when you bake. Could you…bake and stay by my side forever…?”
Belphegor
Now. Considering how iffy you and Belphie were after…ahem…that incident, it’s a bit safe to assume that he had to work really hard to gain back his brothers and yours trust again
And he did, regretting deeply what he did considering you two were now together
He’s sleeping most of the time but when he hears fighting noises from the kitchen he sits up from the couch and looks inside to see Solomon, Asmodeus, and Lucifer fighting fist and fist????
(He definitely took photos of that)
When he looks at you who’s just ignoring the three, you offer him a slice of tiramisu cake
He takes it, confused and then he goes back to the attic
When he slices a piece off with his fork and puts it in his mouth
His mind almost explodes
It tasted…soft and amazing. The coffee delicately blending in with the bitter cocoa on top and the soft cream between the layers.
He eats it slowly but when the fork scrapes the plate, he keeps on wanting for more.
The next time you bake, he’s watching from the kitchen table.
You move with grace and love while you make it and he doesn’t understand how you can after everything his brothers and especially him did to you
His thoughts move around until a clink in front of him snaps him out
Belphie looks at the flan, and then you.
He eats it with you, smart move to put the tray of it outside on the dinner table so they wouldn’t bother you
You both finish and you happily ask for his opinion
He realizes that he won’t be able to understand you. You’re a puzzle piece that wasn’t apart of his family’s set but you fit in regardless.
So he does give you his opinion
He pulls you in and presses his head against yours
“I don’t understand how you can love me and smile at me after what I’ve done. But…I’d like to see it for the rest of my life.”
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Fun fact, I hate how they just brushed off Belphie’s actions in lesson 16 and how we acted too 🤠 Handsomeness doesn’t excuse the shit he did.
Hope you enjoyed nonetheless!
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cobaltperun · 27 days
Text
Lost (20) - Miracle
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Tara Carpenter x female Reader
Summary: To anyone on the outside, and to Tara’s friends, you were Tara’s fierce protector, the MMA fighter who’d take anyone on for Tara. The Guard Dog, as Amber called you. You had no idea you’d have to protect her from people who claimed they loved her. It didn’t matter. As long as you and Tara had one another there was nothing you wouldn’t be able to survive.
Story warnings: Scream violence, family issues, trauma, angst, certain sensitive topics
Word count: 3.1k
Story masterlist / First part / Previous part / Next part
-Take a look around, it's you and me, it's here and now-
She should have been used to this by now, she should have known her life was going too well, that she was so happy and that the universe wouldn’t allow that.
“I’m sorry miss L/N, we’ve been instructed not to allow any visitors,” the officer told her and Tara had to take several deep breaths to calm down and not make a scene.
Her hand touched her stomach, knowing there were plenty of reasons why she shouldn’t stress too much. “I’m her wife,” she repeated, hoping there was some humanity left in this man and that he would let her through to you. She needed to see you, even if it was in this cold, dark place, even if you were locked up. “I’m carrying her child, please, just for five minutes.”
He looked down, and while Tara could still hide it, a closer look would reveal that she was, indeed, two and a half months pregnant. “Well, it’s not exactly her child, is it? Get out miss L/N, this is your last warning,” he sneered and came up to her, ignoring her glare and ready to shove her if necessary.
“We get it, we’re leaving,” Danny stepped between Tara and the officer, just to be sure nothing would happen to her. “Come on, Tara, he won’t let you see Y/N,” he pleaded, gently taking her forearm and pulling her outside.
Tara let him, she followed him, defeated. You’ve been locked up for three weeks and no one was allowed to see you or hear from you. And Tara? Tara only had Danny left…
She got in the backseat of the taxi and Danny gave the driver his address as Tara got lost in her thoughts. Things were so much simpler and happier just a month ago, in fact, everything was going well ever since you recovered, four years ago.
~X~  
You were being mean, laughing at her and handing her the inhaler at the same time. Jerk… “You needed me so much you couldn’t breathe?” you dropped down unceremoniously next to her and pulled her closer the moment she returned the inhaler to the nightstand next to your bed.
“It’s not my fault you went crazy after I called you ‘baby’,” she wasn’t sure she could move from the bed any time soon. At least it was clear you got your stamina back…
You leaned closer to her, kissing her just beneath her ear. “I remember hearing something else as well,” you reminded her, your tone low and slightly raspy and all the things Tara was weak to.
And she turned completely red when she remembered exactly what you were talking about. “You’ll never hear that again,” she ducked down, hiding her face beneath your chin and just wrapping her arms around you.
“Whatever you say, Tara,” she could feel you smirking, she could sense it! Damn you for knowing exactly how to get her worked up, and for making her call you… no… she wouldn’t even think about that. She’d forget it. She’d make you sleep on the couch if you ever mentioned it. Or maybe not that. She needed you to sleep well, so maybe she wouldn’t make you sleep on the couch. Forbid you from kissing her? No, she liked that too much to use it as punishment. She could sit somewhere other than on your lap?
Hell no!
She could take your car. Actually, that would get you to ban her from sitting on your lap.
She’d just make you play horror games without her. That’ll teach you.
“Say, Y/N, were you serious about wanting to marry me?” she asked, absentmindedly tracing random lines on your arm. You still haven’t recovered all your muscles, but she could feel them under her touch, firm and strong, and she was sure you’d be back in shape before the end of the year.
“Completely,” you didn’t even hesitate, you just hugged her a bit tighter. “I’ll do the whole proposal thing sooner or later, but if you want to marry me, then yes, I am absolutely serious about that.”
Tara nodded, smiling brightly. “I do want to marry you,” she kissed you, from your neck, your jaw, all the way to your lips. “I want to spend my entire life with you,” her lips met yours and she moved to straddle your abs. “I want to take your last name, to have-“ she suddenly stopped, just now realizing that was one topic the two of you never talked about.
“Tara?” you raised an eyebrow, confused by her silence.
“Do you want children?” she blurted out, because she did, she wanted at least one child, or two, maybe two would be better. Probably not more than two. She wanted to give someone a childhood she wished to have, as far as parents went. But even more than that, she wanted a family with you. Regardless of if it was just the two of you, or if there would be kids.
You kinda just… shrugged and now it was Tara’s turn to be confused. “Eventually, sure. I haven’t really thought about it, but I’m not against it,” you tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear and Tara sighed in relief. “If you want kids, we’ll raise them together, if you don’t, it’ll be just the two of us,” you pulled her down for a kiss and Tara felt like melting.
She definitely didn’t want kids right away, she wanted to finish college, get a job, get married and then, eventually, when both of you felt you were ready, either adopt or get pregnant. That, however, was topic for another day.
“You know, it’s good that you called me-“ she shut you up with a kiss. She knew exactly where you were going with that, and she would not let you finish that sentence.
“Don’t you dare,” she warned you. You just grinned at her.
~X~ Three years ago
This was it. This was how you were going to have your second heart attack and drop dead. All things considered your panic-filled mind wondered if this could be considered suicide, because, all of this was your doing.
“I can’t,” you were pacing around the hotel room, not even daring to glance at the tiny box on the table. Oh, if a bird swooped in from the skies and grabbed it you would be the happiest woman alive, because you’d at least have an excuse to postpone this.
“Y/N!” Anika grabbed your shoulders and pushed, but she couldn’t get you to move. “Sit down you… mass of muscles and ridiculous strength only Tara gets to move!” she grunted and then just threw her arms up, and sat down herself. “Fine! Stand there!” she gave up. “If you don’t do this today, you’ll have to wait until next year, remember?”
You looked to the side, annoyed that she was right. Her hair was braided, and she was wearing a nice, bright and colorful dress Mindy was going to drool over tonight. It was December thirteenth. The second anniversary of your and Tara’s relationship and you were ready to propose. Which was why you were on an urgent business trip, Anika went back to her parents, Mindy and Chad had to visit their mom, and Sam and Danny would be taking Tara to a restaurant so she wouldn’t feel lonely, and you’d be making up for the urgent business trip tomorrow, when Tara turns twenty-one.
Which was all one big lie, aside from Sam and Danny taking Tara to the restaurant. There was no business trip, or trips to see parents, it was just the proposal.
“Or maybe, hear me out, I say screw important dates, and just randomly ask her one day?” you suggested, raising your finger to make a point.
Anika got up and began jabbing her finger above your chest. “You, Y/N L/N, are one of the best women MMA fighters, you lived through being shot, stabbed, impaled on a rebar, falling from a roof and won Sam’s approval to date her sister, which is probably the most impressive accomplishment of them all,” she told you. “You are going to go downstairs, dressed in that,” she looked you up and down and just stepped back. “that… let’s just say Tara is lucky, because, well, you dressed to impress,” and you did. You went all out, finding the best clothes for the occasion.
And then the phone rang and you saw it was Danny calling.
Afraid something happened you immediately picked up. “Yes?”
“It’s a disaster,” he opened dramatically, his voice filled with panic. “Tara won’t dress up!”
You felt the tension from all of this, all the pressure from wanting to propose to her, all the worry caused by his call, it all just vanished, and you felt like you could breathe again. “Dude, let her come in whatever she wants,” you laughed.
“She wants to come in your damn shirt!” he whisper shouted and you watched Anika’s jaw dropping as she heard that.
“So let her! Let my girl do whatever she wants, it’s her night!” you just sat down on the bed and couldn’t wipe the grin off your face.
“It’s a five-star hotel and she wants to wear an oversized shirt that looks more like a dress on her and jeans! She didn’t even do her hair!” and she’d look more beautiful than anyone else in this whole hotel.
“Yup, let her, just bring her here,” you sighed dreamily.
“Unbelievable, both of you,” he groaned and hung up.
You looked at Anika, still flabbergasted by what she heard, and then at your usual clothes. “You know what, Tara has a point,” you’d wear fancy clothes for some special occasion, maybe tomorrow night when you take her out not as your girlfriend, but as your fiancée.
“No! Y/N! I won’t let you!” Anika cried out, but it was too late now.
~X~
Dressing up… as if Tara wanted to do that tonight. You weren’t there, and she was basically being a third wheel on Sam and Danny’s date, so no, she wouldn’t dress up. She wanted to stay home, watch a movie, and wear your shirt so she could feel like you were hugging her.
Well, she’d see you tomorrow, so that was nice. Urgent business trips have happened ever since you opened your own company. You used the money you got from your retirement and ensured you could mostly work from home, but you still needed to leave every now and then to meet up with your business partners. Did it suck that you had to leave on your anniversary? Yeah, it did. Was Tara angry? No, just a bit lonely since everyone else seemed to leave as well, but you called her plenty of times today and she couldn’t wait to see you tomorrow.
The hotel Sam and Danny took her to… well, now she felt a bit silly for being dressed so casually, especially since Danny went for a dark brown suit and black turtleneck sweater and Sam went through trouble of doing her hair and wearing a light green long coat with shirt and pants.
She walked in behind them, noticing immediately the hotel restaurant was empty, sure, it was expensive and all that, but completely empty? And several people greeted them and took them to the round table set up for six people, where Chad, Mindy and Anika were waiting already.
They were all dressed up, and Mindy was rolling her eyes when she noticed how Tara looked.
“Seriously Sam? You couldn’t get her to wear something else?” Mindy shook her head in utter disbelief.
“She’s stubborn, and well, the three of you didn’t do a better job anyway,” Sam muttered, further confusing Tara.
Several ideas were crossing her mind, but the table was set up for six people, and all thoughts of you somehow popping up were ruled out by that simple fact.
But everyone was dressed up. Anika was stunning, Jasmine looked just as beautiful in that red, slightly revealing dress and Chad went for a more casual, button up shirt and suit combination, and that worried her, because he loved dressing in a more casual way.
“Still the most beautiful girl in the room though,” her jaw dropped at the sound of your voice and she looked to the side as you came down the stairs, dressed just as casually as Tara, just simple, slightly tighter polo shirt and pants and a smile on your face as she ran up to you and jumped into your arms.
“What’s this all about? How are you here?” she wasn’t complaining, not in the slightest, she just wanted to know.
You laughed, lifting her up and carrying her bridal style to the table. “Well, I wanted to make this a bit fancier, but,” you looked down at her choice of clothing and grinned. “I think this suits us much better,” you lowered her back to her feet and guided her to the remaining free chair. “Tara Carpenter,” you went down to one knee and pulled out a box. “Will you marry me?”
Tara refused to cry, she wasn’t going to cry, she was absolutely crying as she fell into your arms and hugged you as tightly as she could. “Yes, a hundred times yes!”
~X~ Present day, March 2027.
The two of you got married on your third anniversary, exactly a year after you proposed, and last year you decided you’d try IVF and then, when Tara and you told Sam about it… well, that’s when it all started going downhill, as Sam grew more and more irritated and angry and would leave for several days at a time. Tara tried to be patient, but she was fearing an then you snapped…
~X~
Getting married didn’t change anything, Sam was still living with Tara and you, and her and Danny were still not living together. They’d spend nights together occasionally, but Sam never brought up the idea of him moving in, or her moving to his place. “Sam, please, just tell me what’s going on,” Tara pleaded when Sam once again chose to ignore how worried she was making Tara be.
“Nothing is going on,” Sam shut her down, not even once looking at Tara as she sat in your shared kitchen. You were out, buying groceries for tonight’s dinner, you and Tara wanted to make this dinner feel special, since it’s been a while since Sam was home for more than a few days. “Just make sure to take care of yourself when you get pregnant,” there was frustration in Sam’s voice that Tara immediately noticed.
“Are you angry at me?” Tara asked, not really having any ideas as to why Sam would be angry, but it just felt like she was.
“No,” and Sam refused to elaborate and in her anger and frustration reached into her pocket for her cigarettes just as you came back home.
“Drop them! Sam, drop them right now!” if there was one thing, just one thing that didn’t involve actually harming someone you loved that would make you snap instantly, it was someone who knew Tara had asthma trying to smoke near her.
“Baby, wait,” Tara got up, stopping you before you could take the cigarettes from Sam. This was already a volatile situation, Sam was frustrated, you were angry, and Tara needed to calm things down. “Let’s just go to our room, okay?” she took the groceries from your hand and placed them on the table, noticing ojo de pancha from a nearby bakery Sam loved at the top. She reached up, cradling your cheek and pulling you closer. “Do it for me?” she spent her entire childhood listening to her parents arguing, then to her mother and Sam arguing, she didn’t want to listen to you and Sam arguing as well.
You sighed, but nodded, ready to just let it be, until Sam spoke, her cigarette now lit.
“What are you two even thinking? What if Ghostface comes after us again?!” Sam demanded and Tara turned to look at her, at the fury in her eyes.
“Sam?” she called out, not recognizing her sister. She knew Sam was paranoid, but this much? “We weren’t attacked for over four years,” she tried to remind her as you lifted her up and took her away from Sam’s rage and from the smoke when you lowered her down you stepped between her and Sam.
“Tara has me, I won’t let anyone hurt her, or our child,” you said, for the first time in fifteen years you’ve spent as Tara’s best friend, as her protector, as the one person she could always rely on, the guard dog barked at her sister. “You included, Sam, so put that damn cigarette out before I make you,” you warned, your tone dangerously low.
You would turn twenty-six in a few months, and for the lack of a better word, you were at your peak. Stronger than even when you fought for the title, or when you fought against Thomas. Speed, strength, skill, all of that was as high as you could take it, and it was one of the reasons why you chose to start a family now, because Tara did worry about Ghostface coming back, and so did you.
Sam scoffed and walked out, and despite Tara’s pleas, she didn’t come back for a week.
~X~
Looking back now, it was like Tara was looking at herself from back when you first came to New York, only Sam was almost thirty and angrier than Tara ever was. When Tara found out she was pregnant, she wanted to have you and Sam there, but Sam just… left… abandoned Tara again, and no one, not her, not you, not Danny, no one could reach her. Tara’s life just fell apart shortly after Sam left.
Chad, Mindy and Anika left New York, Chad pursuing his football career, which took him to Miami, while Anika and Mindy formed a rising star duo, directing horror movies all over the country. So, her group was scattered, and while they all stayed in touch, Tara was only left with you as her constant. Danny was there as well, trying to be supportive while Sam was going through whatever she was going through, but it really was just you and her.
And then you got arrested, framed for murder you didn’t commit. And the victim?
He was stabbed.
A/N: Right, Tara is pregnant. I’m sure that won’t raise the stakes at all. Anyway, this is my Scream 7, I'm not watching anything unless Melissa and Jenna are back. Have fun with Lost season 2!
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byeoltoyuki · 11 months
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✴︎ Time is all we have ✴︎
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↳ Pairing: Wooyoung x reader
❧ Genre : fluff, angst, demons
❧ Words : +19k
❧ Warnings : stalkish behavior, violence, oral
❧ Summary : You never believed in ghosts or demons but when a terribly attractive man starts messing with your life, you’re forced to reconsider.
Sequel : For Eternity
A/N: I haven't written anything for so damn long and of course when I get back to it I can't make it short. Damn, I feel rusty. Definitely gonna be more active. Enjoy!
You knew there was something wrong with you.
Well, maybe not completely with you but definitely with your life. You weren’t a believer per say; you didn’t believe in an afterlife, nor did you believe in God or demons and even less in ghosts. But and it was a big but, you couldn’t deny that the past two months made you think that maybe there was something out there. Something that had been playing with you, messing with you. Your normal, peaceful life had gone from calm to shit crazy and there was no rational explanation to it, leaving you with no other choice but consider the impossible. What if something was haunting you?
Impossible, ridiculous were your initial thoughts and till this day a little voice still told you that, but another part of you whispered to you, warning you that something dark and dangerous was lingering in the darkness, watching you closely. You didn’t want to believe, really, but you couldn’t deny it any longer. Not when you were standing in the darkness, in the middle of your living room and that a silhouette was standing by your window, arms crossed over its chest. As your eyes adapted to the lack of light, you realized it was a man.
You blinked, once, twice, your heart missing a beat as slowly fear crept over you. “Who are you?”
Despite your fear, you wanted to sound as confident as possible. You wanted whoever was in this room to know that you were not weak but your voice had betrayed you.
He chuckled in response, sensing your fear, discomfort and attempt at being courageous. Clearly, you were an amusing little thing. He took a step closer to you, knowing well that in this darkness you wouldn’t be able to see him, to recognize him.
“Stop!” You ordered putting your hands before you to shield you. It was dumb, you knew that very well but did it nonetheless. “Don’t come any closer.”
“Or what? What can possibly the little human do to stop me?”
The term ‘human’ made your blood run cold. Here was the proof your relational side needed to confirm that something unnatural was going on in your life. Or maybe he was just a psychopath.
‘Who are you’ was once again on the tip of your tongue but you stopped yourself.
His voice. You knew this voice, not only from that night at the club but also from your dream.
It couldn’t be. There was no way.
Your heart leapt into your throat at the realization. You knew exactly who was in the room, hiding himself in the dark. The thing that you did not know was what he was and the simple idea of voicing your guess terrified you.
“What are you?”
Instead of answering you, he took another step closer and then another. A little voice was screaming at you, telling you to run but your feet stayed glued to the floor. You watched him getting dangerously closer to you and then you saw it. Red eyes glowing in the darkness.
“I think you know the answer, doll.”
You were not a believer. But this man made you believe. Because right before your eyes stood an inhuman being.
A demon.
Then,
“This is ridiculous.” You groaned in pure despair as you all took seat around the table in Soojin’s living room. Why, oh why, did your friends decide that a good, fun night should end in some horror and ghost stories? You weren’t particularly scared since you didn’t believe in spirits but it didn’t mean you enjoyed the game either. It freaked you out. Always had.
“Don’t be a party pooper, Y/N.” Soojin nudged you with her elbow. She put the Ouija board in the middle of the table and you couldn’t help but shiver at the sight of it. It was old and dusty and looked just as ominous as in your memories. Or maybe it was the atmosphere in the room. Soojin wasn’t playing around when she suggested to use the board. She lit as many candles as she could around her living room, setting an almost mystic, eerie atmosphere.
“Ouah! It looks old!” Mingi moved the board closer to him to have a look. “And not handmade. Clearly, you’ve got it for a while.”
“Yep! Found it at my grandma’s place long ago and kept it all this time.”
“And did you use it?” Mina seemed not as thrilled as the three other and you could almost guess why. Dealing with ghost stories, she could, in fact in the past she used to tell you the best stories ever that would make you shiver and gasp in surprise. Now, an Ouija board? Communicating with spirits? That was a whole other level of crazy considering what had happened in her life recently.
“Yes, with Y/N!” She was definitely too excited.
You rolled your eyes in response.
“Let me guess, you scared each other?” Seonghwa eyed the two of you with a knowing look.
“She,” You pointed an accusing finger at Soojin, “tried to scare the shit out of me. Too bad it didn’t work.” That was obviously a half truth. Back then, Soojin swore it wasn’t her doing and a spirit really did communicate with the two of you. The rational part, or maybe the scared part of you, refused to believe it and rather wanted to blame Soojin. However, the little voice inside your head told you another story, a story you would rather not think about.
Soojin scoffed but chose to ignore your remark. For the better. You had been friends for more than ten years, she knew everything about you and of course, she knew exactly how you felt about ghosts.
“I suppose, everybody knows the rules? I think we all watched enough horror movies to know them by now.” Soojin said
Mingi clapped his hands, excited to ‘play’.
“Be polite.” Seonghwa remembered the rule and at the same time glanced at Mingi who was his main concern. He loved his friend but whenever he was too excited about something he could forget the basics. “And always say goodbye.”
“Good, good. Do you know what you’re going to ask?”
Everybody nodded except you. You accepted being part of it which was already a huge miracle, but that didn’t mean you have to think about questions. Luckily for your group, they all had questions on mind.
Soojin nodded, satisfied. “Well then, let’s begin.”
The moment your put your finger on the planchette, a shiver run down your spine. Ten years later and you still had that dreadful feeling. There was some bad energy emanating from the board and apparently you were the only one bothered by it.
“Hello. Is there any spirit with us?” Soojin started, her eyes gleaming with excitement.
Just like ten years ago, nothing happened at first. No movement whenever it was from an actual spirit or your friends. Nobody talked, barely breathing as all of you waited for something to happen.
“Maybe they don’t want to talk to us.” Mingi commented
“They definitely don’t want to talk to you.” Seonghwa replied, rolling his eyes at his friend’s impatience. Not like he was surprised.
“Hush you two.” Soojin ordered, eyes sending daggers. “Please, ignore my friends. Is there anybody?”
You closed your eyes for a moment, a chill running down your spine. You couldn’t describe how you felt; a mixture of anxiousness, of uneasiness and maybe even fear. There was definitely something in the air, and you felt a surge of energy from the board that forced you to open your eyes and look at it. Once more, it appeared you were the only one to notice that there was definitely something going on.
“Soojin, I-“ you started saying but was cut short as the planchette started moving. It went straight to the ‘yes’.
“Oh shit.” Mina gasped in surprise.
“Who’s doing it?” Seonghwa asked. Finally, someone was as skeptical as you. “There’s no way-“
“Oh come on. Please don’t be like Y/N!” Soojin almost begged which earned her a kick under the table from you. She couldn’t expect all of you to believe that there was something in the dark, watching them.
“It’s okay, Seonghwa. Let them play.” You gave him a reassuring smile.
But your smile vanished as soon as the planchette started moving again. You watched it, letters after letters until you could have the full picture - a picture that made you squirm with uneasiness in your seat.
‘HELLO FRIEND.’
To say you were shocked would be an understatement. Your first reaction was to glare at Soojin. She was the only one who knew about it, who had experienced it with you. Ten years ago, when you believed your friend was the one playing trick on you, the ‘spirit’ had said the same thing: hello friend.
Soojin looked back at you. For someone who was so excited about the whole thing, she didn’t look so thrilled any longer. Her face looked paler and her hand, the one on the planchette, started shaking.
If for a moment you were convinced, she was the one messing with you, now you weren’t so sure. Soojin was a terrible actress, there was no way she could fake her uneasiness.
“He-hello.” She stuttered, cleared her throat and looked around her. “We have some questions for you. Can you please help us?”
This time around it didn’t take long to reply. It moved instantly on ‘yes’.
“Can I ask?” Despite her initial enthusiasm, Mina looked somehow sadder and you could easily guess why. Her dad passed away six months ago and she didn’t get the chance to say goodbye. It was a sudden death that nobody could have predicted which made things much more complicated and worse. You bet she wanted a chance to say goodbye even if it meant to believe in ghosts.
Soojin understood it too and so did the boys.
“Go on. You can do it.” Soojin encouraged her.
“Can you please tell me if my dad is in peace?”
Your heart clenched in pain for her. Mina was a sweet girl, cheerful, honest and so loyal to her friends. It hurt you to see the pain and the sadness in her eyes, she didn’t deserve such trouble in her life. So when the planchette moved to ‘no’, you felt your blood boil in your veins. Whoever was messing with you deserved a good punch in the face.
“What do you mean no?” Mina asked louder than intended.
“Guys, it’s not fun.” Seonghwa was not amused either.
You were about to let go of the planchette when you felt a warm breath on your neck. You froze, unable to move, to speak. You glanced behind you but there was nothing and nobody. Of course, there wasn’t. You were slowly losing your mind. This whole ouija board was a bad idea.
It moved again.
‘HELL’
It took Mina a lot of willpower not to let go of the planchette just because of the stupid rule but tears were gathering in her eyes. None of it made sense.
“Why” she whispered to herself
“Why would any of you do it to her?” This time Seonghwa sounded angry and ready to flip the table.
But none of you got the chance to defend yourself as the planchette moved once more as if to answer his question. Taunting him.
‘FUN’
Heart racing, you grew uncomfortable with every passing second, with every answers. You didn’t want to believe that something was really answering you, but you couldn’t ignore the sick feeling in your stomach nor could you ignore the feeling of being watched. Just like ten damn years ago.
Before any of your friends could react to the last answer, you leaned closer to the board, ready for the only question you could come out with. “Are you the one from 10 years ago?”
Deep inside you, you already knew the answer, you just didn’t want to admit it.
‘YES’
‘MISSED ME?’
It left you speechless and shaking.
Luckily for you, Soojin decided to take the matter in her hands. She took a deep breath and with a steady voice spoke again. “Thank you for your help. Goodbye.”
None of you spoke for a moment, still eying the board, almost as if you expected the planchette to move on its own. But it didn’t and you started breathing again.
“So. Who thought it was a good idea?”
You were late. Like very, very late. And you couldn’t explain it. If there was one thing you were well known about it was that you were never late, you made sure of it. Whether it was to meet with your friends or work related you were either on time or you would come up earlier than intended. But today, somehow you were late.
You didn’t hear your first alarm. Or the second or the third. No matter how loud it rang, you just didn’t hear it and you couldn’t explain it either. You checked your phone twice before going to bed, just by habits and to make sure that you had them all activated. They were. So what happened?
You felt stressed and angry with yourself. If only it was the only problem. You could, eventually, get over the fact that you missed your alarms and that you were running late but apparently it wasn’t enough. To add to your misery, you couldn’t find your keys. You knew you have left them in the hall, like every day since you moved in.
And yet they were missing.
“For fuck’s sake!” You groaned in frustration, ruffling your hair in pure despair. You were losing precious minutes and it was absolutely driving you crazy. 
You went through your bag one more time, in case you had somehow put them back in (that would have been odd). With no luck.
“Fine.” You told yourself, resigned. “Breathe, Y/N, breathe. It’s okay.”
There wasn’t much you could do at this point and you couldn’t lose any more precious minutes. You quickly typed a message to Soojin, asking her to bring the spare keys.
You grabbed your bag and your jacket and left, slamming the door a little too hard behind you.
You swore you heard a chuckle.
By the time you got to your office you were one hour late. To say that your arrival didn’t go unnoticed would be an understatement. Some of your colleagues joked about your lateness, some simply stared and some completely ignored you which you didn’t mind at all.
“Rough morning?” Minhyuk interrupted your thoughts by putting a cup of coffee right under your nose.
The combination of coffee and Minhyuk made you instantly forget about your shitty morning and made you smile. How could you say no to a coffee brought by your crush?
“My savior.” You beamed at him. You grabbed the warm cup and brought it closer to your face. “I need it so badly.”
“Yeah, you look like you do.” He said with a smirk, teasing you.
“Are you trying to tell me I look like shit?” You feigned being offended. You and Minhyuk had been friends for more than four years; he was the one that welcomed you in the company and showed you everything. It wasn’t hard to like him when he was so friendly and considerate. Actually, you didn’t know a single soul who didn’t like him.
“I would never.” He defended himself but then his smile turned into a frown. “What happened?”
“That’s actually a good question.” You sincerely told him as you took a sip of your hot coffee. “I slept through my alarms and then couldn’t find my keys.”
Minhyuk hummed in understanding. “Oh how we love this kind of morning.”
“Cheers to that.” You raised your cup and chuckled.
“Y/N? Sorry to interrupt guys.” Minji, the best boss in history, called for you. She gave the two of you a small, knowing smile (you wished she would stop playing the match-maker). “Quick question. Did you finish the preparation for the presentation?”
“I did. I’ll forward it to you.” If only things were that simple.
“Hold on.” You told Minhyuk.
What were the odds that your day could actually get any shittier? The folder that you had prepared last week was empty, all files erased. Your face paled as you double checked and still couldn’t find any trace of your files. “You got to be shitting me.”
Minhyuk leaned over your shoulder to have a look, a glance was enough to understand your problem. “Call the IT, maybe they can recover the files for you.”
You weren’t a believer but you dared to hope that someone would hear your prayer.
You woke up screaming, body covered in cold sweat, heart roaring in your ears. It took you a moment to calm down, to reassure yourself. You were in your room, in your bed. There were no spirits haunting you, following you wherever you went. There were no spirits trying to talk to you while looking dark and dangerous.
No. you were safe. At home.
Hand on your chest, you closed your eyes and concentrated on your breathing. Inhale, exhale, repeat. You didn’t know how long it took you, every time you thought you had regained control over your body and your emotions, images of the ugly ‘thing’ chasing you, screaming at you, would pop in your mind.
From the moment you fell asleep and started dreaming, you knew it was just another nightmare, nothing unusual. At least you thought so until you couldn’t wake up. No matter how many times you told yourself to wake up, you couldn’t open your eyes.
You checked your phone, only to see that it was three in the morning – you still had plenty of time to get back to sleep. You could, but the memory of the nightmare was still too fresh and you were scared to have another one.
“What should I do.” You pondered out loud, ruffling your hair in frustration.
A chuckle echoed in the room. It was faint which made you pause. Either your tired mind was imagining things (and you hoped it was the case) or someone had broken in while you were sleeping (unlikely). With shaky hand you reached for the lamp and switched the light on.
Just like you expected (or more like hoped) there was nothing wrong with your room and there was definitely nobody watching you from the corner of your room. Clearly, it was better for you to go back to sleep.
Before you go crazy.
There were people that were naturally clumsy and then, there were those who were just unlucky. You were neither. Or at least you believed so. But after a week of very unlucky and upsetting events, you wondered if maybe you were actually part of those people.
The incidents with your keys happened a few more times, except this time you didn’t bother looking for them, deciding that maybe you were just too distracted and moved them without actually remembering it.
Maybe.
Spilling coffee all over your white blouse, tripping over on the stairs and almost breaking your leg, a guy trying to steal your bag (and got a nice punch from you in return), you could go on with the list of incidents that happened in just one week. You should be terrified but all you could think about was ‘thank god, it was finally Friday’. No more incidents, no more work, you could finally stay at your place, safely and relaxing.
But not now. For now, you had other plans. When Soojin suggested to go clubbing you almost yelled your ‘yes’, way too happy to have a drink, or four, and dance. Better yet, Minhyuk chose to tag along. What a reward after such a week.
But maybe you shouldn’t have been so happy about his presence after all. No less than twenty minutes in the club and Minhyuk was gone, talking to some pretty brunette. Despite him being a good friend, Minhyuk was also a flirt, you knew it and yet you couldn’t help but feel jealous whenever he went for someone else.
You sighed in defeat and took a sip of your mojito.
Soojin nudged you playfully with her leg. “Maybe you should talk to him. You’ve been friends since day one.”
“I think it will be a waste of time.” You admitted as you glanced at him and the girl. He liked her. Well, maybe not like like, but he definitely intended to leave this place with her and judging by how touchy she was getting, you had no doubt it would work.
“He cares for you.” Soojin protested
“That he does, I know it. But he doesn’t see me as anything more. I’m not blind.” That was why Minhyuk was just a crush; a person you could have around and yet couldn’t have at the same time. There were days it bothered you, like tonight.
You glanced one more time at the couple. Nope, you refused to let your jealousy get the better of you, you refused to mope when finally, you could enjoy yourself and maybe find someone with who to leave. Maybe.
You emptied your drink and went straight for the crowd, mingling with people. You closed your eyes, a small smile spread on your lips as you started moving your body, forgetting all about the day, forgetting about your troubles. You let the music guide your moves.
Soon enough, a guy joined you, hands on your hips, he pressed your body against his. You didn’t mind, at first, it was after all your goal to find yourself a man for the night, but quickly he got too touchy, touching places he shouldn’t without your consent.
“I don’t think so.” You told the guy as you faced him, frowning and ready to punch him if needed.
“Oh come on.” He laughed, unfazed by your annoyance. “You were asking for it.”
The urge to punch him was getting stronger and stronger. You scoffed at his reply. “Get lost.”
Apparently, he didn’t like your answer. He took a step forward, hand outstretched ready to grab your wrist. He didn’t get a chance.
Despite your annoyance and your full attention on the man before you, you couldn’t ignore the sudden presence behind you. Not simply people dancing, but someone standing right behind you. Someone wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you against a firm torso. You blinked, confused.
“I don’t think my girlfriend likes your attention.” A very nice and charming voice echoed from behind you.
“Your girlfriend was asking for it.” The man snickered and eyed the two of you.
Despite his remark (that annoyed you deeply), you noticed how he took a step back, ready to flee. Whoever was holding you made a rather strong impression on the man which made you only curious about him.
“Fuck off.” Your savior growled. A deep and menacing growl.
It worked.
You almost laughed at how quick the man left, mumbling under his nose. Didn’t need to be a genius to guess what he was saying.
“Better?” The man let go of your waist and took a step back, giving you some space.
You turned to face him. You didn’t know what you expected to see after hearing his voice but clearly not that. The man, the savior was ridiculously hot. There was no way this man could be human. Pretty eyes, sharp jaw, definitely kissable lips, black hair. And damn the lovely mole under his eye. To say you were mesmerized would be the understatement of the century.
You cleared your throat. “Thank you.”
His smile turned from gentle to devilish at the sound of your voice and the look on your face – you felt exposed as if he could read your mind. “You’re welcome, my lady. Now shall we?” He outstretched his hand, inviting you to dance.
How in the world could you say no?
The moment you placed your hand in his, he yanked you with so much strength against him, you almost fell in his arms. He didn’t let go of your hand for a moment which seemed like eternity to you. You almost forgot where you were, almost forgot you weren’t alone in the room. It certainly felt like it.
Being so close to his face felt intoxicating.  You didn’t want him to let go of you; you didn’t want to move. In fact, more you looked into those dark, beautiful eyes, more you wanted to press your body fully against him and kiss him. Those stupidly, inviting lips.
His smile grew wider, once more you had the sensation that he knew exactly what was going on in your pretty little head. But instead of actually giving you exactly what you wanted, he spun you in his arms and pressed you hard against him.
Your breath hitched in your throat at the sensation of his warm, strong body. Despite your clothes being in the way (and oh how much you wished it wasn’t), his warmth completely enveloped you.
One hand on your hip, the other on your stomach, he started moving in the rhythm of the music, guiding your body. You closed your eyes to fully enjoy the music, to enjoy his touch. Without fully realizing it, you pressed yourself a little harder against him which earnt you a groan right near your ear.
“Easy there.” He warned you, his fingers gently digging into your hip.
You shuddered in response. You were too aware of his fingers, of his lips near your ear. You wanted to feel his lips on your skin. Desperately.
You couldn’t remember when was the last time a guy made you feel this way. He hadn’t even properly touch you (yet, hopefully) and yet you couldn’t ignore how uncomfortably wet you got. You wanted him, badly.
Without even knowing his name. 
“There you are!” Minhyuk’s familiar voice brought you back. It was almost like his gentle voice broke a spell.
Your savior instantly let go of your body; you almost whimpered at the loss of his heat, cursing silently your friend for interrupting.
“I was looking for you everywhere. One moment you were by the bar and then nothing.” He eyed you with a frown, almost as if he was worried for you.
It was funny how at the beginning of the night you would have been delighted to hear him, to see him worrying over you. But now? You were almost annoyed.
You glanced at your new partner. He smiled at you, cute dimples showing. Could he get any handsomer? His smile, however, faded the moment his eyes landed on Minhyuk. Oh how quickly his face transformed; he didn’t look like a nice guy any longer. His eyes were hard, face dark and if you didn’t know better, you would have thought he was about to pounce on Minhyuk.
“I-“ You faced Minhyuk, unsure of what you wanted to say. Did you want to explain yourself? Did you want to tell him to leave the two of you alone?
“Do you want to leave?” Minhyuk asked instead
You glanced over your shoulder only to see that your savior was nowhere to be found. That was quick.
“Yeah.”
You knew you were dreaming because you found yourself in an empty dark street. All the lights were out and the town was dead silent which simply couldn’t happen if it wasn’t a dream.
Your city was always full of life whether it was day or night, it didn’t matter. Therefore, you decided that it was another of those weird dreams. You almost expected this dream to turn into another nightmare; maybe another monster would pop out of nowhere and start chasing you. You almost laughed at the thought. How could you be so ready for another nightmare?
It didn’t happen.
You looked around the street. Your only source of light happened to be the moon which would have been romantic if it wasn’t for the silence. It was too silent. No honks, no animals, you couldn’t even hear the wind. The town seemed simply dead.
Uneasy, you started walking down the street, maybe in hope to find something that made sense with this dream, maybe in hope that eventually the dream would change or maybe you would simply wake up.
None of it happened. No matter how long you walked (which felt like hours), nothing changed. Your surroundings stayed exactly the same. Same street, same gloomy atmosphere.
Until it did.
You halted in your track, body turning cold. There was definitely something wrong with the dream. You couldn’t exactly pinpoint why it suddenly felt like you were in danger but it did. You wrapped your arms tightly around yourself, trying to reassure yourself, to keep your mind clear. Whatever was about to happen, you could deal with it.
And then, you felt it. A warm breath caressed your nape causing goosebumps all over your body.
“Hello friend.”
That voice, you knew it, yet at the same time it sounded different. You forced your body to come out of shock and move as far as possible from the person behind you.
The man that stood in the middle of the street looked just as beautiful as in your memory except for the fact that he felt completely different. You gawked at him, hands shaking, you couldn’t stop yourself from feeling like you were in danger and you needed to run.
Whenever he could read your mind or not - he smiled wickedly, eyes glowing bright red. He licked his lips, eyes never leaving yours. You were a prey and he would not let you leave so easily.
“Who are you?” You finally found your voice and asked. A part of you didn’t want to know who he was. It couldn’t be the same man; the one you met at the club didn’t look or sound that dangerous, the one before you on the other hand felt like pure evil.
His wicked smile only grew at your question. Instead of answering you, he got out of your sight for a second, only to reappear right in front of you. He grabbed your arm, tightly, his hand burning your skin.
“Don’t worry, doll, you’ll find out very soon.” Was the last thing you heard.
Your eyes snapped open; a scream of pure terror left your lips. Heart hampering in your chest, you panted, badly, unable to control your breathing. You shut your eyes tightly and counted till you regained some calmness.
And here you thought dreaming about spirits was terrifying. This dream felt too real. The fear, the pain, even now that you were fully awake you still felt it. At the memory of the pain, you switched the light on and quickly rolled your sleeve; there was no way any of it was real. And yet a bright red handprint was there.
“No, no, no, no.” You repeated to yourself while rubbing your arm. It wasn’t real. You were completely fine. Or maybe, you did hurt yourself but only because the dream was so intense.
You took a deep breath, your gaze locked on the bright mark.
You were not losing your mind.
Thinking that after a long weekend of resting and relaxing your awful dreams and episodes of hurting yourself would stop was a mistake. You hadn’t gotten a proper sleep for a week and it was slowly driving you crazy. You didn’t know what was the cause of those nightmares. No, that was a lie, your life took a tragic turn from the moment you used the Ouija board.
For a while, you refused to think about that night, for the sake of your sanity. However, with the past events it made it harder not to think about it. Something was definitely going on and your brain was trying to make you understand.
You sighed for the hundredth time this morning. You were tired, dizzy and in big need of sleep. You could barely concentrate on your work. Talk with people? Hardly possible; you heard them and yet couldn’t fully process what they were saying.
Soojin pulled a chair beside you and faced you, a scowl on her face. “Want to talk about it?”
Despite her sitting close to you, you barely heard her. “What?”
“You look tired as hell. I think in all our years of friendship I’ve never seen you like this.”
This simple statement brought tears to your eyes. Soojin was right, you had never felt this exhausted in your life.
“I can’t sleep.” You finally admitted.
There were plenty of disadvantages with not being able to sleep. Obviously, the tiredness was the main problem but it wasn’t the only issue. No, being deprived of sleep made you cranky as hell, unable to concentrate on anything and the worst was probably you seeing things that couldn’t be real therefore weren’t really there.
“What do you mean you can’t sleep? As in insomnia?” Soojin leaned closer and touched your forehead. “Girl, you’re burning.”
Fever? Oh yeah, another problem to deal with.
“I keep having nightmares. I wake up in the middle of the night, screaming and sweating. Sometimes I wake up with wounds on my arms.” You rolled your sleeves to show the different handprints. Not all of them came from the man that looked like your savior, but oddly enough his stayed when others faded, eventually.
Soojin gasped loudly at the sight of the different red marks on your arms. She grabbed your hands, gently tug to get a better look. “This is insane.”
“You tell me.”
Back to present
‘Move’ you told your body. You had to move, to put some space between you and the demon. So, you ran and switched the light on, almost as if you expected the man to disappear, to prove to your tired brain that it was all a hallucination. And to your surprise, as soon as light came, he was nowhere to be seen.
Should you have felt relieved? Definitely. Were you relieved? Not really. Rightfully so.
“Boo.” A voice came right from behind you.
You shrieked, startled which only made him laugh as you stumbled. A hand on your heart, you didn’t think for a moment you would survive the night with his presence – he was driving you crazy and not in a nice way.
“You can’t be real.” You muttered half to yourself half to him. Despite all the evidences right before your eyes, you still couldn’t come with terms that all this time it was him and he was not human. It just didn’t make sense.
“Oh, but I am, love.” He purred, clearly satisfied with your reaction. He was patient, for a demon at least, and now that he had finally showed himself to you, he couldn’t help but enjoy the moment a little too much. “You’re such a sweet little thing.”
“No, no, no.” You shook your head in denial. “I refuse.”
He chuckled and took a step forward while you stepped back, refusing to let him come any closer to you. As if you could stop him. He smiled wickedly at you; he kept walking towards you, unbothered by your lame attempt at staying away from you. You realized too late that he had you trapped between him and the wall.
“Nice attempt.” He mocked, leaning closer.
His face was inches from yours and despite your initial fear, you couldn’t help yourself but admire his handsome face. A demon was supposed to represent a sin and the ‘man’ standing before you was definitely a walking sin. It shouldn’t be allowed.
You pressed yourself even harder against the wall, wishing it could swallow you whole and help you escape from the demon.
“You know, I didn’t expect you to play again with an oujia board. Not after last time.”
“Why are you doing this to me?”
“Why? Because it’s fun!”
“Fun?” You repeated, irritated. All this time you thought you were losing your mind, only to find out that your problems were all because of one person. Just because someone thought it was fun.
Outraged, you forgot for a moment that he wasn’t a simple man but a demon, and pushed him as hard as you could. “Fun? I’m not some toy you can play with! Don’t you ever dare mess with me again!”
Your little outburst took him out of guard. He saw fire in your eyes; you weren’t scared of him any longer and were ready to fight him with all your being if it meant to get your life under control.
He was tempted to push your buttons, to see just how much you could endure before losing yourself.
“Get out.” You ordered
As much as you wanted him to leave you alone, you didn’t believe that he would actually listen to you, he just didn’t seem like someone who would listen to other’s wishes.
But he did.
You woke up this morning feeling refreshed and suspiciously at peace. No weird dreams, no nightmares and no demon waiting for you. It was refreshing. You wanted to believe that it meant it was over, no more troubles, no more weird incidents. Was it too much to ask?
For the past two days, you tried not think too much about the demon, the terribly handsome demon but you quickly realized it was impossible. You couldn’t simply erase his face from your memory and even less forget how warm his skin felt against yours. You hated yourself for thinking about him in this way, from being so affected and seeing how your treacherous body reacted to him. Instead of despising him for how vulnerable he made you feel by haunting you, you found yourself wishing he had done something else.
“You’re crazy, Y/N.” You told yourself
You sighed and closed your eyes to enjoy the last drops of water. A good night of sleep and a nice warm shower and you felt like you were ready to fight the world. You hadn’t felt this way for days – it felt good. 
You stepped out of your shower, humming to yourself and stopped. Leaning against the door was the demon. His arms, and damn those muscular arms, crossed over his chest, he was openly staring at your naked body, smirking.
“The hell!” You screamed and grabbed your towel to hide your body. “Get out!”
Your anger didn’t faze him as he remained against the door, his eyes roaming over your half-hidden body. His eyes lingered on your legs and then slowly moved to your face. He licked his lips hungrily. You were definitely a sweet thing he wanted to play with.
You gulped nervously under his gaze. You wanted to hold onto your anger and outrage but his eyes and the way he licked his lips made it almost impossible. Your body warmed up instantly, reacting to him in a way it shouldn’t.
“I said, get out!” You repeated but even to your ears you didn’t sound convincing.
He chuckled and of course didn’t listen to your order. Not this time. Instead, he walked towards you, a predator getting closer to its prey.
“Why should I when I have such a nice view?” He stopped inches from you.
He was too close; you could feel his warmth. Or maybe you were simply too aware of him. Instead of trying to get away from him like you should, your feet stayed rooted to the floor, eyes locked on him.
“Why are you here?” You managed to ask, your grip on your towel tightening as if your life depended on it. Your life certainly didn’t but your sanity definitely did.
The man before you smiled wickedly at your question. He put a finger under your chin and tilted your head up. “Why? Isn’t it obvious, doll? You wanted me here.”
Your gasped at his touch. “I-I didn’t.”
“No?” He sounded amused as he leaned dangerously closer. His absolutely kissable lips so close, all you needed was lean in and you could taste them. “You little liar.”
It was unfair how enthralled you were with him. He didn’t do anything to deserve this kind of reaction from you, in fact you should be screaming and kicking but no, you let him control you.
You wanted to defend yourself, excuses on the tip of your tongue and yet no words left your lips because deep inside you knew he was right - you were a liar.
“What do you want?”
“What do you think I want, doll?” He hummed, his finger moving slowly, feather like touches, from your neck to your collarbone.
‘Me’ you wanted to say but that would be playing his game and you didn’t want to. Not so easily.
As his finger was getting dangerously closer to the edge of your towel, you tightened your grip in case he tried something.
“Why are you trying so hard to resist me?” He asked, his fingers halting on your towel. “Is it because of that guy? Do you think he can fuck you better than me?”
The mention of Minhyuk was what broke the hold he had on you. You scoffed and pushed him away from you.
“You need to stop doing that.”
“Doing what?”
“Controlling me.” You refused to elaborate, to admit that you felt a strong attraction.
He chuckled at your assumption. “Oh doll, you think I’m trying to control you? I don’t need to.” He eyed you from head to toe, “My presence enhances your feelings, that’s all. I can do nothing about it.”
He had to be lying, you told yourself. It was easier to think that he was the origin of this attraction but judging by how calm he was, you had to come with terms that maybe it was your own fault.
You bit on your lips, frustrated with him and with yourself.
“What’s your name?” You finally asked. You couldn’t keep calling him ‘the demon’ and considering how often you had been seeing him (and you guessed it was just the beginning) you might as well know his name.
“I have many names,” He started
“Spare me with that.” You interrupted, not caring any longer if you sounded rude or that you were provoking him. You just didn’t care anymore.
He rolled his eyes in response. “Wooyoung. You can call me Wooyoung.”
You liked his name, but that, of course, you kept to yourself.
“Great, Wooyoung. Now get out and please don’t come back.”
When Minhyuk invited you to his birthday party, you expected it to be small with his group of friends. How wrong you were.
His flat was crowded with so many unfamiliar faces, it made you pause for a moment and wonder if you were in the right place. You knew, of course, he was a social butterfly but not to this extent.
For a moment you tried to look for Minhyuk, he was the birthday boy after all, but with the dim light and the crowd, it made your mission impossible. With a long sigh, you chose to go to the improvised bar instead, judging that you would eventually find him. Or he would find you.
Luckily for you, you didn’t stay alone for long. Without surprise, you found Soojin sipping her beer by the bar, watching people with her typical judging gaze (you smiled at that).
“I knew I’d find you here.” She grabbed another bottle and handed it to you. “Thanks babe.”
“You’re finally here! I’m bored.” Soojin whined and wrapped her arm around yours.
“You? Bored? Now that doesn’t sound like you at all.”
She nudged you with her hips. “I didn’t expect Minhyuk to turn his flat into a night club, too many people and they look all dull.”
“Oh come on, you can’t be sure of that. Have you tried talking to any of them?”
Soojin completely ignored your comment (but stuck her tongue out) and instead observed your face. “You look better.”
That you did. Wooyoung was nowhere to be seen which resulted in you sleeping like a baby. No more nightmares, no more hallucinations, it was great. “Yeah. Back to normal.”
Or almost.
“There comes my favorite girl!” Before you could even react to Minhyuk’s voice, his arms were already around you, bringing you into a big, warm hug.
“Finally!” Soojin raised her bottle, “Happy birthday, asshole!”
“Lovely, as always.” Minhyuk let go of you but only for a moment, he had one hand on your hip, rubbing gently as he faced your friend. “But thank you. I’m glad you came.” And then he looked at you. “Especially you.”
Soojin rolled her eyes, disgusted with the sudden display of affection (that took you of guard). You, on the other hand, were simply confused at his rather odd behavior. Yes, you were close and of course you were happy with his comment, but he had to be drunk to suddenly be so touchy.
“Minhyuk, are you drunk?” You nudged him playfully, putting some space between you two.
It was odd how weeks ago, you would have let him touch you freely, and yet tonight it didn’t feel right. You blamed Wooyoung for this too, he had completely fucked up with your brain.
“No!” He protested too quickly and giggled, “Okay, maybe a little.” He cupped your face between his hands and leaned closer. “You look so pretty, Y/N.”
“Oh my god. I should definitely film him. That some nice blackmail material.” Soojin laughed
However, before she could do that, Minhyuk’s hold on your face tightened making you wince. His eyes were no longer on your face but at something or someone behind you. You had a sick feeling that someone was indeed staring intensely at you – a cold shiver ran down your spine.
“What is he doing here?” Minhyuk groaned more to himself than to you but you heard him nevertheless.
His question got you curious. Who was behind you? And especially, who could turn the sweet and drunk Minhyuk into a frowning, upset guy?
“Did you bring him with you?” He asked you
“Wh-what?” It took you by surprise. You removed his hands from your face and glanced over your shoulder.
At the sight of Wooyoung standing by the window, your heart missed a beat. He looked terribly attractive in all black; black jeans, black turtleneck and rolled sleeves revealing his strong, veiny arms. He smirked at the attention, clearly unfazed with Minhyuk’s glare.
You were in trouble.
“No.” You finally answered, averting your eyes from Wooyoung. “Why would I bring him? I don’t know him.” Oh Y/N, you were such a little liar, Wooyoung was right.
“The hell.” Minhyuk muttered under his breath. He ignored your response. Eyes on Wooyoung, he left both you and Soojin, walking straight to Wooyoung with clenched fist.
“Minhyuk, no!” You thought you knew drunk Minhyuk, but apparently you didn’t. If he was looking for a fight with someone ‘normal’, you would have let him (maybe not) but you worried for him since he was picking a fight with a demon, without even knowing it. “Bloody hell.”
“Well, what a surprise.” Soojin commented. She put her now empty bottle on the table and got by your side. She followed your gaze and whistled at the sight. “I’m not going to comment on Minhyuk’s behavior, but damn the guy he’s facing? He’s hella hot.”
Yes, he was but you didn’t say it out loud.
“Oh shit.” You gasped as Minhyuk grabbed Wooyoung by his collar, bringing him closer to him.
Without even realizing it, your body moved on its own in their direction.
“Y/N!” Soojin quickly grabbed your arm and pulled you back, worried of what you were about to do. “Don’t.”
Your eyes went back and forth between Soojin and the two men. You bit on your lips, unsure of what you were supposed to do. Did you want to watch them fight? Did you want to save Minhyuk from Wooyoung? Or did you just want to make sure nothing happens to Wooyoung? The later seemed so impossible, and yet your heart was beating crazily.
“Let them be.” Soojin advised you and shook her head. “Men.”
For a second, you caught Wooyoung’s gaze, he seemed completely unbothered with Minhyuk’s display of strength and anger. The moment his eyes met yours, he smiled, a devilish smile. Oh he was up to nothing good.
‘Please don’t.” You mouthed hoping he could get your message.
Wooyoung got effortlessly rid of Minhyuk, one swift move and he was free. You expected Minhyuk to fight back but he took you off guard by walking away.
Wooyoung glanced at you one last time before vanishing from your sight in a blink.
“The hell.”
“I wonder what people would say about you if they knew you let a demon play with you.” Wooyoung chuckled before planting another kiss on your inner thigh, enjoying the contact with your skin.
You whimpered at the touch, desperate for more. He had been toying with you for what felt like hours. Hands traveling down your body; every touch setting your skin on fire. If you were in your right state of mind, you would have been embarrassed by how whiny and wet he got you. Instead, you tried to wriggle under him, to get closer, to make him stop playing.
“Wouldn’t they say that you’re a little whore, hm?” He hummed against your skin, lips slowly moving from your knee back to your inner thigh, getting awfully close to where you needed him and yet never giving you what you wanted.
“I don’t care!” You snapped, patience wearing thin. You tried to grab him, to push him against you but Wooyoung was faster and so much stronger. With one swift move he was back, hovering over you with your arms completely pinned above your head.
“Don’t think so, doll.” He smirked at how fucked you looked without him doing much. You were completely at his mercy and he knew he had little to do before you would start begging him to take you. Wooyoung leaned closer, lips so close, so tempting – you wanted him to kiss you, so you tried to move but he pulled back, toying with you. “Tsk, so impatient, doll.”
“You’re an asshole.” Wouldn’t it be so nice to kick him just to get rid of your frustration? It would be, but of course, you did none of that. Instead, you groaned. “You can’t keep doing that.”
Wooyoung smiled in response, watching you like a prey, squirming under him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
You would have punched him if you could, instead, you nudged him as hard as you could with your leg to make a point (sadly, it only made him laugh; a very cute and annoying laugh).
“Wooyoung, I swear-“ He didn’t let you finish, instead, he, rudely, interrupted you with a kiss. A hot and needy kiss. For all his talk, and his self-control, you found out he was just as desperate as you judging by the strength of the kiss. He let go of your wrists and immediately you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him even closer to you, pressing your body against his to deepen the kiss. You let your fingers rake through his hair before pulling at them harshly (he deserved it) making him groan against your lips.
“Know that you’re going to regret that, doll.” He warned you, biting your lip.
“You’re all bark and no bite, babe.” You mocked, fully realizing that pushing his buttons would either get you in trouble (because come on he was a demon) or you would finally get what you wanted.
Wooyoung’s pulled from you but his fingers found your chin, thumb caressing your lower lip. His eyes glowed brighter than ever at your daring words. “You’re so going to eat your words, love.”
And just like that, he slid slowly down your body, eyes never leaving yours. He took it slowly, gently, too gently considering how threatening he wanted to sound, but maybe you should have paid more attention to his eyes, to see the mischievous glimpse.
Nestled between your thighs, he bit harshly your thigh, making sure to leave a mark. A complain was already on the tip of your tongue (because come on, how long was he planning on playing with you) before finally, as if he sensed what you were about to do, you felt the press of his lips on your clit. It was so soft, you could barely register and yet you felt a wave of pleasure. Finally.
Something that started softly quickly turned into something else. Mouth working between your legs, he was ruthless; sucking, lapping, he knew exactly what he was doing, turning you into a moaning mess. You grabbed his hair, tugging at his locks and pushing his head closer to your heat.
“Wooyoung,” You moaned
“All mine.” Wooyoung growled, a very animalistic (that got you even wetter if it was possible) growl. “He will never have you.”
Feeling completely overwhelmed, you couldn’t proceed his words, not his claim on you nor the mention of ‘he’.
“Look at me, doll.” He suddenly stopped and hovered over you. Gently, he stroked your face, almost lovingly, if he was capable of that. “Now, look at him. Look and tell him he would never have you.”
Puzzled, you followed his gaze only for your eyes to widen in shock. Minhyuk was sitting in the corner of your room, unmoving, with his fists clenched. Your eyes locked for a second and you knew, deep inside, that you should be ashamed, you should push Wooyoung off you, but you couldn’t. You tore your eyes off him and looked at Wooyoung, staring at this odd demon.
“If you stop, I swear I’m going to punch you.” You warned him
You couldn’t tell him what he wanted to hear, not wanting to flatter his already big ego, but your words and your eagerness seemed to be enough. He glanced at Minhyuk; a triumphant smile plastered all over his face – he had won this round.
Wooyoung spread your legs wider as he went back, lips around your clit, sucking hard. Your legs started to shake with all the attention; you arched your back as you felt so close to your release. So close.
Until he stopped.
You jolted in your bed, sweating and feeling incredibly hot and sticky. No wonder, considering your dream. You knew beforehand that you having a wet dream about Wooyoung meant he was back with his games and you weren’t sure how you felt about it. Frustrated? Amused? Scared? All at once.
“Fuck you!” You finally let out loudly, confident that he was hiding in the darkness of your room, watching your misery with amusement.
Oh how right you were.
Wooyoung appeared right beside you, laying on your bed, completely unbothered with your cute, according to him, outburst.  “Hi doll.”
“You!” You pointed an accusing finger at him, “Stupid demon! Stop messing with me!”
Wooyoung chuckled in response, shifting on the bed so he could face you better. “You know, doll, you’re the first human who dares to insult me and yet is still alive.”
This sentence alone should have shut you up and shrink away from him, however, considering your level of frustration, you forgot all about the fact that he was a sinful creature that could probably snap your neck in a second.
“So what? How does it feel?” You snapped back instead.
Wooyoung quirked a brow at you. He had to admit he was pleasantly surprised with your sudden confidence. He took all his time to answer your question, eyes roaming your half-exposed body; from your exposed legs, to your exposed shoulder (since your long t-shirt refused to stay on place), to your lips. Those sweet lips. He licked his lips, eyes not leaving your lips.
“Aroused.” He admitted, smiling shamelessly
Whatever witty comeback you had, died the moment he confessed. The little shit surely knew how to leave you speechless and confused. How much you hated him (that was half true but he didn’t need to know that).
Realizing all too late how exposed you were, you grabbed your blanket, in panic, and pulled it over your body. It was stupid and completely pointless but it still made you feel safer. Just a tiny bit.
“Really, doll?” He laughed and grabbed the blanket. You gripped it tightly, preparing for him to tug at it (as if you had a chance in winning). Without surprise, he yanked it from you, exposing your body once more to his eyes. He licked his lips, admiring the view. “You’re so sweet.”
Wooyoung moved slowly, maybe on purpose or maybe to give you the chance to push him away or to scream at him. You did none of that, hypnotize with his predator-like grace as he got closer to you. His hands found their way to your thighs, featherlike touches that sent an all too familiar wave of pleasure. You shivered in both fear and excitement. Fear, because your body was too responsive to his touch. Excitement, because you wanted to see how far he was ready to go with you.
Gently, he pulled your legs apart to nestle between them. He inhaled sharply; with just one look he knew how, embarrassingly, wet you were. “Sweet. I wonder who got you this wet, love.”
“Definitely not you.” You stubbornly commented. “But please, do touch me.”
To your utter surprise, a genuine smile spread on Wooyoung’s face and you had to admit that to see such sincerity on his handsome face terrified you way more than his usual expression.
“Not today, doll.” He kissed your forehead and then, everything turned black.
“Okay, what’s up with your cranky ass?” Soojin plopped on the chair in front of you, frowning at you.
It was finally lunch break and you chose to meet at your favorite restaurant near your work place. It was crowded, like always, but luckily for you, your favorite table was free (in fact, you suspected your favorite waitress reserved it especially for you). You had the perfect view on the window, watching people go on with their lives.
Soojin’s voice brought you back to reality; averting your eyes from the street, you looked at your friend who clearly was concerned with your state of mind.
“Nothing.” It was obviously a lie and Soojin didn’t buy it.
As much as it pained you to admit it, you were indeed cranky, borderline annoyed with everybody but also with yourself. And Wooyoung. Especially with him. The little shit.
You couldn’t believe he used, whatever power he had, on you. Worse yet, he dared to leave you alone and frustrated, after making sure you were so wound up. Every time, the dream crossed your mind, it made you grind your teeth and clench your fist (and maybe a tad bit excited). You promised to yourself that the next time you see him; you would make him pay (as if you had any power on him).
“Is it about Minhyuk?” Soojin wondered
“Who?” You blinked, taken aback by how quick you answered and realized your mistake. “No.”
Soojin arched an amused brow at you. There was no doubt, she was surprised with the idea of you having another guy on mind. “There’s another guy I’m not aware about?”
‘Shit.’ You bit on your cheek, forcing yourself not to slap yourself. If only you weren’t so distracted, then maybe you wouldn’t find yourself in this situation.
“I can’t believe you kept it to yourself!” Soojin whined and playfully slapped your arm. “I’m your best friend! How dare you?”
You sighed in defeat. She was right, you weren’t the kind of people who kept things from her best friend, and definitely not a guy. But really, what could you tell her about Wooyoung? ‘Hi, I’ve been haunted by a demon ever since we had a séance at your place. He’s annoying but actually hella hot and I want to fuck him.’ You couldn’t tell her that.
“I’m sorry. I just-“ You started to say, trying to find the right words to justify yourself. But really, you had no valid excuses.
“Come on, I’m listening.” She crossed her arms over her chest, trying to look as stern as possible but her eyes were glowing with mischief. She was ready to laugh and tease the hell out of you.
You took a deep breath, answer on the tip of your tongue and then, forgot all about it the moment your eyes landed on the person standing outside, on the sidewalk. You couldn’t believe your eyes. Just when you thought, you couldn’t get any angrier, Wooyoung proved you wrong.
“Oh you piece of shit.” You groaned under your nose.
Without giving any explanations to Soojin or even giving her time to react, you ran outside. Eyes locked, you forgot all about the people around you or the fact that crossing the road without looking was probably the dumbest thing you had ever done, but your annoyance silenced the rational and reasonable part of you. All you could think about was getting to him as fast as you could (and before he could vanish) and share a piece of your mind (and if you could punch his smug face, it would be a bonus).
But were you lucky? Not when the stupid demon was concerned. Before you could reach him and express your annoyance, you tripped. Like a damn fool. Before your pretty face could meet the rather dirty pavement, Wooyoung caught you. One hand held your forearm while the other was pressed against your back.
“Someone’s too happy to see me.” Wooyoung chuckled
You should be appalled by how quickly your treacherous body responded to him; a laugh and a touch and you felt your insides melt. There was definitely something wrong with you. Instead of punching him like you initially planned, you found yourself staring at him, lips slightly parted, you were completely hypnotized and there was no saving.
“Cat got your tongue, doll?”
You cleared your throat, embarrassed with your own reaction, and punched his chest. Lamely.
“Asshole.”
“Lovely as always.”
Wooyoung’s smile was terrifying. Not because it was actually ugly and horrifying – far from it. But as a demon, he shouldn’t be allowed to look both cute and handsome while smiling; wide smile with absolutely adorable dimples – you had to fight the urge to poke his cheeks.
“You’re staring, doll.”
‘You too’, you wanted to say but no sound left your mouth. His closeness was making it hard for you, to think, to breathe. In fact, all you could do was stare and wonder what it would be like to kiss him.
“Y/N.” For the first time since you met him, he called you by your name and to say that you didn’t die a little inside would be a lie. You liked it. A little too much.
“Sorry to interrupt,” Soojin’s familiar and sweet voice echoed from behind you, causing you to jump and put some distance between you and Wooyoung. You looked at her, half dazed half guilty. You were in deep shit.
“Here.” She handed you your bag with a wicked smile that was definitely as evil as Wooyoung’s, promising you a very slow death if you dared not to call her later to spill the beans. “Take your afternoon off.”
You had to admit that spending a whole afternoon with the person that used to haunt you was the weirdest thing you had ever done in your life. You should have been worried about your sanity for actually liking it, but instead of worrying about it, you chose to fully enjoy the moment and forget all about your anger.
Wooyoung, despite being a demon, an evil thing, was not what you imagined a demon to be. He was a natural flirt (you stopped counting how many times he made you blush), fond of pickup lines (and you were a big sucker for it), funny and sounded and acted like a normal human being. It was disconcerting but you enjoyed it too much to complain.
This was how you found yourself at your place, nestled cozily in your couch, watching Netflix and eating pizza. A normal, friendly activity you would say.
“I wonder,” You started as you shifted to watch Wooyoung. “How come a demon showed up when we were trying to talk to a spirit? Like, is it normal?”
Wooyoung, who was about to take another bite of his slice of pizza, halted. This was not a question he expected from you. He cleared his throat and quickly regained his composure. “I did not expect that.”
That made you smirk. “Did I take you off guard?” You were a tad proud, you had to admit.
“Wipe that proud smirk, doll.”
“Or what?”
Wooyoung pinched your arm in response, making you yelp and put some additional space between you, just in case he would try again. “Not nice.”
“Never said I was.” And just like that he took you once more by surprise as he stuck his tongue out. “As for your initial question, I felt a strong pull, almost as if I was being summoned. Obviously, I wasn’t. I was shocked to see two kids with an Ouija board.” He laughed at the memory.
Wooyoung could still picture your face, so stern and half annoyed with the actual game; one look at you and he could guess that you didn’t believe in spirits. Your friend, on the other hand, was so excited, waiting for something to happen. “You looked so stern; I could tell you didn’t believe in any of that.”
You snorted at that. Not so long ago you still didn’t believe in ghost and yet now you got all cozy with a demon.
Wooyoung grabbed gently your hand, playing with your fingers. “It was so tempting to scare you. And then imagine my surprise, ten years later, I felt the pull again and I just knew it was you.”
Hearing him talk about the pull made you feel a kind of way. You should feel annoyed that he had been messing with you, but instead you almost felt special.
“So, instead of talking to me, you decided to mess with my life.” You gave him your best stern look (but really all you wanted was to laugh).
Wooyoung smiled sheepishly at you. “Guilty. I couldn’t resist.”
You found yourself smiling back at him. “I have something else I want you to ask about.”
Wooyoung arched a brow, clearly someone had been particularly curious tonight – he didn’t mind. But once more, you took him by surprise; you moved swiftly from your spot only to get on top of him, straddling his thighs. Confident and with a playful smile plastered on your face, you wrapped your arms around his neck. Clearly, he wasn’t the only one who could play, you could too and judging by how tense he got, you won this round.
“You keep provoking me but you never really touch me.” You thought about the night he got you all bothered only to leave you alone. You thought about it over and over and you just couldn’t understand why he wouldn’t touch you.
Wooyoung closed his eyes for a moment and sighed. He should have guessed you would actually ask this question. He leaned closer to you and gently stroked your cheek with his thumb. “Because I’m a demon. It will leave a mark on you, taint you and I don’t want that for you.”
Your body reacted on its own by pressing your face into his hand. His words made your heart flutter; you had a handsome demon in your flat, sitting on him and instead of being evil like he was supposed to, he was being sweet and considerate. Honestly, you didn’t know whether you should cry or laugh. Were you growing fond of him? Absolutely.
“Don’t think I don’t want you, doll.” He grabbed your hips, grip so tight you were sure it would leave a bruise. He pressed you harder against him, making you feel him, making you understand just how much he wanted you. He was hard. Damn hard. You couldn’t stop yourself from moving, grinding against him.
Wooyoung’s eyes turned red as a groan escaped his lips. “Doll.”
Despite his warning, he didn’t stop you. He watched your every move, every little whimper that left your pretty parted lips. He watched the way you closed your eyes to enjoy the friction and how slowly you were losing yourself. It took him all his willpower not to flip you, get rid of those clothes and just pound into you until you were begging him to let you come.
“You’ll be the death of me, doll.”
When you came to work this morning, you swore to yourself that you would concentrate on your work, finish everything on your to-do list so you could get home earlier and maybe have a nice night with your favorite demon. Unfortunately for you, despite all your willpower, it appeared your body wasn’t the only traitor in this story, your brain too. Every single time you tried to concentrate on something, images of Wooyoung would pop into your mind. Images of the two of you, cuddling, laughing – you were completely smitten.
“Y/N, Y/N, Y/N. My sweet Y/N.” Soojin’s familiar voice brought you back from your dreams, back to reality. “Don’t think I forgot about you. You have so much to tell me about!” She plopped on the chair and grabbed your hands, her sweet smile turning into a wicked one – you gulped, nervous. You should have prepared yourself for your best friend’s question but clearly, your mind was somewhere far from here.
“I-“ You cleared your throat, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh now you don’t know? Should I refresh your mind then?” You didn’t really want her to remind you but that was not negotiable. “You, middle of the street and a hella handsome guy that looked kinda familiar but I can’t remember from where.” She paused, thought about it for a moment, “Does he have hot friends?”
You forgot all about the pressure just like that. You burst into laughter and ran your fingers through your hair. “I met him at a club.”
Despite all your talk about being efficient today, you were anything but which resulted in you staying way too late at work. Sadly, for you, all your plans for the night seemed to be far away now.
You sighed, tired and half depressed. You loved your work, you really did, but sometimes, especially at busy times, you got easily overwhelmed. Because you loved your work, you would forget about yourself and would, without even realizing it, overwork yourself.
It was past nine when you found yourself walking from your work; the weather was lovely so instead of taking the bus, you chose to walk and enjoy the moment.
Without surprise, your thoughts quickly turned to Wooyoung, wondering if he would visit you tonight – you hoped he would. It worried you how badly you wanted to see him, to touch him, you shouldn’t be so attached to him for so many reasons. Being so close to him was dangerous and you were pretty sure nothing good would really come out of this odd, yet so heart fluttering relationship.
But could you really stop yourself? The answer was simple: no.
“Hey miss!” A man’s voice interrupted your trail of thoughts. Annoyed, you glanced at the group of men sitting on the stairs, looking like a they owned the world. You knew they were trouble with just one glance.
“This dress looks amazing on you.” Another commented
You closed your eyes for a second and took a deep breath. Inhale, exhale, repeat. ‘Keep walking. Ignore those idiots, you don’t need a fight.’ You told yourself, when really, all you wanted was to walk towards them and share a piece of your mind. With a nice punch. You did none of that, of course. For once in your life, you listened to the little voice that told you to walk away. Fast.
“Oh come on.” One of the men jumped from his place and quickly blocked your way. “Don’t be like that.”
You glared at the man before you, angrily. The audacity. You were growing more and more annoyed; fist clenched, all he needed was to make a step towards you and you wouldn’t hesitate to punch his face.
You still refused to answer him and apparently, he didn’t like it judging by the frown on his face. His friends quickly joined you, surrounding you. So maybe, you didn’t feel that confident anymore. It was one thing to deal with one idiot, but it was a whole other story if others were involved. You could fight, but not so many of them at the same time.
If from outside you managed to look tough, inside you were worried.
“What’s wrong, missy? Cat got your tongue?” The man before you mocked and took a step towards you, getting slowly closer and closer to you.
As he slowly was getting closer, you weighed your options. Trying to run seemed like the best option and yet with the three other men surrounding you, it didn’t seem possible. Fighting could be another option but it seemed like the worst one – you would not come out unhurt.
‘Fuck it.’ You told yourself, fist curled, you were ready to punch the guy and then run for your life.
None of it happened. Before the man could even think about reaching you, a dark silhouette appeared right in front of you, lifting the man from the ground by his neck. A little yelp of surprise escaped your lips. You knew the person before you. A little too well. Wooyoung had found you and he was not amused. You couldn’t see his face but you could tell he was pissed; his body tensed, the aura surrounding him was pure rage.
To your utter surprise, the three other men didn’t try to help his friend – feet rooted to the ground, they were both taken aback and terrified with how easily Wooyoung lifted their friend.
“Give me one reason. One good reason not to kill you.” Wooyoung growled
Oh yes, he was furious. His voice was darker than ever and even if his fury wasn’t directed at you, you couldn’t help but shiver and cower behind him. Those guys just didn’t know with who they messed.
You bit on your lips, torn between the wish to see how far he was ready to go for you (you had little trouble to imagine him killing for you) and to save those men from a fate probably worse than death.
“Wooyoung.” You called for him. No success. He didn’t even flinch at your voice, too lost in his own feelings. You got closer to him and put your shaky hand on his arm. “Wooyoung.”
He grunted but complied. He looked at you, eyes red and glowing, filled with anger and hatred, but at the sight of you, for a brief moment his eyes softened.
Honestly, there was definitely something wrong with you. Instead of cowering under his gaze, you found yourself getting hot. And apparently, Wooyoung felt the shift too. He inhaled sharply, scenting you.
“You’re terrible.” He whispered only for you, a smirk forming on his pretty face.
You chose to ignore the fact that he could read you so easily or the fact that he could sense your arousal. “Let them go. They’re not worth your time.”
If Wooyoung had to listen to his demon’s urges, those men would be dead, souls sent straight to hell – he loved the idea of making them suffer for eternity. But you, you made everything harder. He couldn’t resist those pretty eyes, looking hopefully at him, smelling so good.
“As you wish.” He threw the man on the ground few meters from you. With a blink of an eye, he had his arms wrapped tightly around you and the next moment you found yourself in the safety of your house, pressed against a wall.
“How long are you planning to drive me crazy, doll?” He pressed his head in the crook of your neck, inhaling your sweet scent. No matter how much he tried to resist the urge to take you, he found it harder with every passing day.
You ran your fingers through his hair, enjoying his proximity and his breath on your skin. “Excuse me, but as far as I’m concerned, I’m the one suffering. Not you.” With that, you tug at his locks – Wooyoung bit on your neck without hesitation in response, leaving a bright red mark.
“You have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Then, shut up and take me?”
So maybe after the incident with the bunch of idiots in the street, Wooyoung started acting more protective. And maybe you found it both endearing and annoying. You would roll your eyes at him every time he would show up at the step of your workplace; of course, he knew every time when you would be finished with your day as if he felt it. But could you blame him? Definitely not. He would smile sheepishly at you, looking so damn adorable – you melted every single time.
Maybe, after giving in your desire, you finally came to terms that you weren’t simply attracted to this demon. There was something more, something deeper and it scared you. What if you gave him all of you and he would use it against you one day? What if, despite all his human trait, it was a charade? What if you were wrong?
‘Oh well.’ You told yourself with a long and tired sigh.
It was finally Friday night and after a two hours long trip to the countryside you had finally reached your parents’ place. It was isolated, a small village surrounded by a huge, dark forest. It was a nice play to visit when you wanted to escape the noisy town and when you needed to reconnect with the nature and yourself. Better yet, you could come and spend some quality time with your family.
You looked for a moment at your old house. So many generations had lived in this house, in fact, your parents still lived with your grandmother. They could have left, they tried even, but the peace and calmness of this place brought them back. You couldn’t blame them. Now that you were back, you felt all your exhaustion leave your body. This place was magical.
A fond smile grew on your face and you hurried to the door.
“I’m home!” You shouted, excited.
Your mother was the first to join, her pink apron on her; the moment she saw you, she couldn’t hold back. She screamed your name, excited and jumped at you for a bear like hug. Yeah, you were home.
It was a well-known fact in your village that your grandmother was an old witch. A real witch who casted spells, who could see things that others couldn’t. Of course, your parents always told you that it was just a silly rumor that some ladies created because your grandmother could act odd from time to time. As a good daughter, you believed them and never questioned it. You witnessed some of those odd incidents that happened with her but you brushed it off. Now, however, it made you pause. What if it was true?
While talking to your parents, you noticed how your grandmother would stare at you and shake her head in disapproval. You frowned, wondering what about your life could possibly make her frown in disapproval. But maybe you already knew the answer.
“We missed you! When was the last time you came back? It feels like eternity!” Your mom complained, wiping a fake tear. Such a drama queen (but so were you).
“I think we haven’t seen her since Christmas.” Your dad added but with a gentle smile. He missed you, of course, but he understood why you didn’t come back.
“I know, I’m sorry.” You winced, feeling bad. You wanted to come back earlier but somehow, every time you thought about coming back, you would get simply busy, whether it was with work or your personal life. “I’ve been busy.”
“Busy with her boyfriend, yeah.” Your grandmother snorted and grabbed her glass.
You chocked, taken aback at her statement. There was no way it was just a remark, just a guess. Your eyes widened in shock; your eyes locked and a knowing smile grew on her face. Oh yeah. She knew.
“Oh come on, mom! Y/N would have told us if she got herself a boyfriend!” Your mom came to your defense.
If only she knew.
“I wouldn’t bet on that.”
Your mom’s eyes darted back and forth between you and your grandmother. Without the two of you talking, she understood what was going on and she didn’t like that. “You’re seeing a man?!”
Oh boy. You were in trouble.
“Y/N, dear?” Your grandmother called for you. “Come here, I have something for you.”
Your grandmother sat by the fireplace with a little box resting in her hands. She looked at you more gently now which eased your mind. Maybe you were finally imagining things. Maybe you were simply too tired with the week and the trip.
You sat on the carpet, inhaling deeply. The warmth coming from the fire and the smell of wood brought back memories of your childhood and so many good times. It reminded you of nights of you sitting by the fire, resting your head on your grandmother’s knees while she would tell you stories.
“It feels really great being home.” You admitted with a fond smile on your face. “I should have come back earlier.”
Your grandmother hummed in approval. “You should.” She paused to have a good look at you. “But I understand. You’re different from us in so many ways.” She outstretched her hand and gently patted your head. “Look at you. Such a lovely woman. But you’re attracted to dangerous men.”
“He’s not that dangerous.” You whispered your lie. You knew better than to qualify Wooyoung as ‘not dangerous’ because he definitely was. But was he really a danger to you? You weren’t that sure.
Your grandmother sighed in defeat. “It runs in the family.”
“What?”
“It’s a long story. For another time.” She averted her eyes to the box in her hand. “I have a gift for you. Here.”
In the wooden box, you found a pretty, vintage necklace. You had seen it before, a very long time ago – your grandmother used to wear it.
“Consider it as a lucky charm. It had protected me for a long time.”
In all honesty you hated how your brain worked. Despite your exhaustion, sleep wouldn’t come. You laid in your bed with your eyes wide open, staring at the ceiling, in the darkness of your room, playing with the necklace your grandmother gifted you. You tried everything to fall asleep; you tried to empty your mind, to count, but nothing worked.
In the darkness of your room, you thought about your grandmother and how you started to believe that the rumors about her weren’t just rumors. You thought about how much you missed Wooyoung and wondered how come he still didn’t show up. Of course, you had no way of warning him that you wouldn’t be at your place this weekend, but he always knew where to find you. So what was different this time?
With a sigh, you threw your blanket off you. There was no way you would find any sleep soon, instead, you grabbed a black hoodie and put it on. If lying in bed, did you no good, then maybe walking would help. You used to do it back when you were still living with your parents. In fact, you spent many nights walking through the forest, resting by the lake.
The night was lovely with a cool breeze caressing your face. You hummed in contentment, enjoying the moment fully as you walked through the small path leading to the lake. You didn’t need to check your surroundings; your feet remembered the way.
The moment you stepped into the clearing your smile widened at the sight of the lake. The sight of the lake brought back so many memories, you felt in peace and so light.
“I’m home.” You whispered happily
Your peace was however quickly interrupted by a very loud and angry “Where the hell have you been?!”
Startled, your heart missed a beat. Wooyoung appeared right before you, looking incredibly pissed, his eyes glowing red and you swore he growled at you. That was definitely not how you imagined meeting him. Without answering, you simply stared at him, confused with his reaction.
Wooyoung took a step towards you, fuming with rage, he tried to control himself. He didn’t want to scare you with his attitude (not that he really believed he could scare you), but his own fears got the best of him. “I’ve looked for you everywhere but no matter how much I tried, I couldn’t find you. I couldn’t feel you. It freaked me out.”
“What?” You blinked confused. “It doesn’t make sense. You-“
He interrupted you by wrapping his arms around you, crashing your body against his.
“I was scared something had happened to you and I had no idea where to look for you.” By the end of his ranting, he was shaking. You felt bad for worrying him this way, even if you didn’t understand half of what he explained.
You pushed him gently off you, only to cup his face and smile softly at him. “I’m fine, you’re fine.”
He inhaled sharply and closed his eyes, leaning further into your touch, letting you calm his nerves.
To say that you didn’t melt at his reaction would be a big fat lie. Your heart fluttered; he was too adorable for his own good and he didn’t even know that. You pecked his lips, once, twice until you saw a pout form on his face – he wanted more than a peck.
“Y/N,” he pleaded and who were you tell him no? Without hesitation you captured his lips. It wasn’t that long since your last kiss, but the moment your lips connected you sighed in delight, your body melting against his. There was no denying that you were addicted to him.
One arm wrapped tightly around you, Wooyoung lifted you from the ground bringing you as close as he could. The moment of bliss didn’t last. The moment your body collided, he hissed in both surprise and pain.
“What-“ You looked at him, taken aback. “What’s wrong?”
Wooyoung frowned, confused. He glanced at his chest; the burning sensation lingered even with you two being apart. “The hell.” But despite the shock that came with the burn, Wooyoung recognized this sensation, from a very long time ago. He looked at you, observing you, trying to find what was different with you. It didn’t take him long to figure it out. His eyes locked on your necklace; his frown only deepened.
“Where did you get that?” He pointed at your neck
“That?” Your fingers wrapped around the pendant. “It’s a gift from my grandmother.” You couldn’t help but smile but then you remembered his reaction. “What’s wrong with it?”
Wooyoung bit the inside of his cheek, pondering whether he should tell you what this pendant represented or if he should just shrug it off.
“Don’t.” You warned him, seeing the struggle in his eyes. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
“You’re getting too good at reading me.” Wooyoung sighed and shook his head. “I know this necklace; I’ve seen it before.” He outstretched his hand, fingers brushing your neck gently but halted. “There’s a spell on it preventing demons from getting too close to you.”
You should have been shocked by his statement but you weren’t. The whole evening you had been wondering whether your grandmother was a witch or not – his words only confirmed your doubts.
“Should I take it off?”
“Your sweater? Yes, please.”
You slapped his arm playfully in reply which made me chuckle. “No, keep it.”
“But it hurt you.”
“Only because I got too close to it. I’ll just avoid touching your neck.”
“No!” You complained. As if you would let him do that. You liked him touching your neck whether it was just to rub or plant kisses or choke you.
He laughed at your pained expression and wrap and arm around your shoulders. “Don’t pout like that. It gives me ideas.”
“What kind of ideas?”
“A kind that would make you blush, doll.”
Bloody demon. But you adored him.
“Walk me home?”
When you suggested for Wooyoung to walk you home, you had on mind that you could slip him inside the house, unnoticed and maybe spend the night together. Your plan, however, went to hell the moment you got closer to the house. Your grandmother was, to your utter despair, perfectly awake, sitting in her favorite rocking chair on the patio, smoking a pipe. She watched the two of you getting closer, unfazed with Wooyoung’s presence.
Wooyoung let go of your hand. He put his hands in his pockets and tried to look as nonchalant as he could, but as you observed him from the side, you saw how tensed he actually was.
“So you’re the demon.” Your grandmother said. She stood up, stretching her limbs, she winced at the pain in her back.
Your grandmother, at least in your memories, was sweet and always looked gentle. Now? She looked intimidating. It was a wonder Wooyoung didn’t try to run away because you would in his shoes.
“And you’re the witch.”
She smiled, pleased with being called a witch. “What’s left of it, yes.”
Your eyes darted back and forth between the two of them, your thoughts running wild. “Hold on. Does it mean I’m a witch too?”
“You could be, if you wanted.” Your grandmother nodded which made Wooyoung winced. “Don’t make that face, demon. We’re not all bad.”
“Excuse me if I’m having a hard time believing this.” But as Wooyoung observed your grandmother, he couldn’t shake off the feeling of knowing her. He let his power wander around the place, trying to reach for her magic, only to be meet with a wall.
“Bloody witches.” Wooyoung cursed under his breath.
“I have a question.” You interrupted their little silent exchange. “My necklace? Earlier-“ you glanced at Wooyoung, trying to find the right words without getting embarrassed, “It hurt him.”
Your grandmother hummed in understanding. She was young once so she could only imagine how it happened. She winked at you (did you blush? Absolutely).
“Because this necklace is supposed to protect you from demons. Especially those trying to get too close to you.”
“But-“
“I felt him on you. His scent is all over you. I figured you’d need some protection. This necklace won’t save you if things get out of hand, but it can help.” Your grandmother explained.
Wooyoung who stayed oddly silent for the past few minutes, finally remembered where he had since this necklace before. “I’ve met you before, haven’t I?”
Now that was unexpected.
Your grandmother smiled. “Took you long to figure out.”
“You’re old.”
“And you’re still as rude as ever.”
“Do I want to know?” You asked, confused at their interaction. It got you curious, obviously. Especially because your grandmother looked delighted with how uneasy Wooyoung looked. “Wooyoung?”
He raised his arms in defeat, cursing. “Your grandmother was a very curious little witch. She summoned me when she was twelve.”
“Twelve?” You glanced at her, amazed. No wonder there were rumors about her.
“Yeah. She was curious and annoyed me to no end.” Wooyoung explained, face pained at the memory.
Your grandmother scoffed. “You were just impatient.”
“Was I? She pestered me with questions and I snapped. I tried to attack her but she wore this damn necklace.”
She nodded at the memory. “Demons are impatient and dangerous creature. And no matter how cute the two of you look together, I don’t think this relationship is a good idea.”
Angry, Wooyoung took a step forward and you had to grab his arm to stop him from getting closer to your grandmother. You didn’t trust him when it came to you and your relationship.
Your grandmother, brave woman that she was, didn’t even flinch at his display of anger. “You know I’m right. You put her in danger.”
“I can protect her!”
“I don’t doubt that but you won’t be always by her side. Moreover, you seem to forget that you’re immortal. She’s not.”
“It doesn’t matter. I’ll find her again.”
Fuck. You were falling in love.
Ever since you got home from your parents’ place, Wooyoung had been showering you with so much love it was almost disgusting (according to Soojin anyway). But sweet. You bet if it came from someone else you would have hated all this attention but with Wooyoung it only made you feel loved. A kind of love that you had never experienced before. It was intense and heart melting.
When you thought he couldn’t surprise you any more, he would pop at your work place with a cup of coffee and would steal a kiss when nobody was looking before disappearing with a wink. It startled you every single time but would leave you with a big smile on your face. He certainly knew how to brighten your day.
Wooyoung surprised you even more by bringing you what looked like homemade meals almost every day. For a while, you actually refused to believe that he was the one doing the cooking, it just didn’t make sense for a demon. He, of course, proved you wrong one night. You came home late, your place smelling absolutely delicious, making you drool on the spot; only to find Wooyoung in your kitchen, cooking. He should have looked so out of place – he didn’t. Let’s say it added to the list of things you loved about him.
Tonight, however, you enjoyed the peace that came with the night. Wooyoung was sleeping beside you, for once he didn’t leave, he didn’t have any demon-business waiting for him and you enjoyed every second of it. You watched him sleeping, admiring how beautiful he looked even in his sleep.
Smiling fondly at him, you moved a little closer to him, letting your fingertips trail over his chest, drawing invisible circles. You couldn’t stop yourself from gently touching him, you were just so drawn to him. Your hand moved to his jaw, tracing its shape before moving to his lips – lips that you wanted to kiss so badly. Wooyoung grabbed your hand and opened his eyes, staring right at you.
“You can’t get enough of me.” He wiggled his brows playfully at you which made you realize that he had been awake for a while now and was simply waiting for your move.
The little shit.
“Nope.” You didn’t even try to deny. You threw one leg over his and straddle his thighs. “I might be a little addicted.”
Wooyoung kissed your fingers in response. A slow and gentle press of his lips against your fingers and it was enough to fill you with both love and lust.
“I love you.”
“So you’re the reason he’s been so distracted.”
Finding a man, sitting on your coach like he owned the place should have made a strong effect on you. A logical reaction would have been to panic, to scream even and ask who the hell he was. You? You simply halted mid-way; your jacket half removed as you stared at the man.
One look at him was enough to tell you who he was. Well maybe not who but definitely what. There was this aura around him, dark and ominous, just like Wooyoung’s. Without a doubt you were facing another demon and from the frown on his face he wasn’t a friendly one.
A normal reaction, after realizing that a dangerous demon was at your place, would have been to pray for Wooyoung to show up and save your butt.
“Do I want to know why a demon is in my living room?” You finally asked and dropped your jacket on a chair, along with your bag. To say that your heart didn’t skip a beat at the sight of red eyes, would be a lie. Maybe spending time with Wooyoung made you a little fearless, but it didn’t mean you couldn’t recognize danger when faced with.
You were playing with fire but apparently your little antics amused the demon – he smirked. “I see the appeal.”
“What do you want?”
“I wanted to see where Wooyoung was spending his time instead of doing his job. Can’t believe he got himself involved with a human.”  He eyed you from head to toe, face filled with disgust. Clearly, someone wasn’t very fond of humans.
“Then, now that you’ve met me, can you leave?” You tried to sound as nice as possible just to avoid offending him even further with your ‘humanity’.
“You would like that, wouldn’t you?”
One moment he was on the couch, the next he had you pinned against the wall, his fingers wrapped tightly around your throat. “You, humans, are so fragile.” He watched you, your every shiver, every breath, like a hawk. It amused him to see you not being so smug anymore, not being so courageous. He could feel your heart beating crazily; you were terrified of what he could do to you. After all, it would take him little to not effort to snap your neck.
“Do you think he would morn you?”
His hold on your neck tightened a little more, bringing tears to your eyes. You were going to die, there was no way you could escape him, not even if you tried. You whimpered at the pain as breathing was getting almost impossible. A little voice inside your head asked you to beg him to stop but you wouldn’t. It wouldn’t do you any good.
But just when you thought you were done for, a miracle happened: your necklace started shining brightly. The demon’s attention suddenly was not on you but on the necklace, eyes widening in shock. Just like Wooyoung’s before, he seemed to be familiar with it; he quickly let go of you and took few steps back, his eyes darting back and forth between his wounded hand and you.
“The fuck.” He growled, outraged that what seemed to be an easy target, wasn’t that easy to kill in the end. “Why do you have this?”
Too stunned to speak, you simply stared at his hand and pressed yourself a little harder against the wall in hope it would swallow you whole. You needed to get the hell out of here. You silently thanked your grandmother for the gift, if it wasn’t for her, you realized, you would be dead.
“Answer me!” He ordered, impatient, his rage growing stronger with every passing seconds.
Despite your state, despite the fear slowly eating you alive, you forced your body to move, to try to get away from him – you pushed yourself from the wall and run without looking back. Fortunately for you, your prayers had been answered: Wooyoung appeared in the middle of the room, a deep frown on his face. He opened his arms widely and caught you. The moment his familiar and comforting scent hit your nose, you felt your body giving up, falling in his arms, shaking.
“Y/N.” He whispered and tightened his hold around you. He didn’t need to observe you to know you were terrified and a quick glance at the other demon in the room made it all clear as to why. “The fuck you’re doing here, Hongjoong?”
Hongjoong scrunched his nose in disgust at the sight. No matter how close he was to Wooyoung, he couldn’t understand his obsession with you. “You finally show yourself.”
“I’m not going to repeat myself. What are you doing here?”
If Hongjoong was annoyed with Wooyoung he didn’t show it (which did impress you). Instead, he put his hands in his pockets and relaxed, completely unbothered with his friend’s anger. “Making acquaintance with your new pet.” His eyes locked with yours for a moment before looking back at Wooyoung. “You can’t be serious about her.”
For a second you thought Wooyoung would simply pounce on Hongjoong. You could feel his rage just by staying in his arms. Oddly enough, he controlled himself; Wooyoung took a deep breath, releasing a little his hold on you before looking back at the demon. Your eyes darted back and forth between them, realizing a little too late that maybe the reason Wooyoung managed to control himself was because this demon was actually a friend of his and he didn’t want to fight him.
“My intentions are none of your business, Hongjoong.” Wooyoung finally answered, calmer than expected. He looked down at you and smiled gently at you, reassuring you in a way.
Hongjoong, instead of making another snarky remark to push Wooyoung to his limits, only sighed in defeat. He ruffled his hair in frustration and groaned. “Why do you need to always make things so hard?”
Wooyoung actually chuckled at his remark. “You’d be bored.”
Yeah, you had no more doubts: they were friends.
More confident (mainly because you realized your life was no longer threatened), you pushed yourself out of Wooyoung’s arms and faced the other demon. Instead of looking at you with the disgust he showed you previously, Hongjoong smiled, a bitter one, but it was better than nothing.
“You better look after her. If I found out about her, it means others will too eventually. You know she’ll be in danger when the moment comes.” Hongjoong said before vanishing.
You woke up that morning with a sick feeling in the stomach – something was wrong. You sat in your bed, rubbing your eyes to fully wake up. The moment your eyes landed on the empty side of the bed; the bad feeling only grew stronger. Wooyoung was nowhere to be seen which wasn’t that unusual and shouldn’t worry you that much but it did. Maybe it felt wrong because of the whole incident with Hongjoong and his last remark before leaving. You couldn’t help but remember your own grandmother’s words, they were so damn similar, warning Wooyoung about the danger of being together.
“No.” You told yourself, scolding the little voice in your head that was messing with you, making you anxious without good reason.
You knew from the beginning that being with Wooyoung would be challenging but you could overcome the issues, you were a strong and stubborn woman – you were ready to fight for him. And you could only hope that he was ready to fight for you too.
Hopeful, you left your bed to check the others rooms – still no sight of him.
“Wooyoung?” You called for him, knowing all too well that he wouldn’t answer you.
Despite all your talk about overcoming all obstacles, your heart clenched painfully inside your chest. Feeling dizzy, you put a hand on the wall to steady yourself. He wouldn’t leave without a word, would he?
Days turned into weeks, weeks turned into months and still no sign of the demon that had shamelessly stolen your heart. You would be lying if you said his absence didn’t affect you as much as it used to, you would be lying if you said it didn’t hurt thinking about him. Because it did. Every time you found yourself alone, you thought about him, about your time together. You thought about his silly jokes, about the late-night talks, about the safety of his arms. You missed it.
But if there was one thing you were certain in life, it was that time could heal everything. You strongly believed in that. So when Wooyoung disappeared without a word, despite all your attempt at summoning him, you believed that you would get over it. Eventually.
For a while, you allowed yourself to be sad, to cry, to despair but then, enough was enough. You refused to turn into one of those people who because of their pain would become just a shadow of themselves. There wasn’t much you could do, except resume your normal life where you had left it. You worked just as hard and started spending again more times with your friends, going out and distracting yourself until the pain became more bearable. Until your thoughts weren’t plagued by him all the time.
When the time of your holidays came, instead of planning a special trip, an escape to another part of the world, you chose to come back to the only place in the world where you felt safe and at peace: your childhood’s house. Your parents were of course delighted at the idea of having you back for longer than two days. They didn’t ask about your ‘boyfriend’, they figured it wasn’t the right timing to introduce him to them. But your grandmother, it was a whole different story. The moment she saw you, you and your fake pretty, happy smile, she smelled the lie. Fortunately for you, she made no comment.
The night was still young and fresh, but you couldn’t dream about anything better. You sat in your grandmother rock chair on the patio, admiring the dark sky filled with thousands of stars. A warm plaid wrapped around your body, a hot cup of chamomile in your hand – a perfect set.
Coming to this place was probably your best decision.
“A penny for your thoughts?” Your grandmother stood by the door; she too had a plaid around her shoulders.
You glanced at her, smiling. With just one look, you knew why she was outside. In fact, it surprised you that she lasted so long without cornering you. “Just relaxing. I feel at peace here.”
Your grandmother hummed in understanding. “And not in town?”
“It’s,” you paused, thinking about the right word. You loved your life in town. You loved the hectic, noisy life but ever since Wooyoung had left without a word, you found yourself wishing for calm and to have time to reconnect with yourself. “Different and not what I need right now.”
Your grandmother joined you by sitting on the wooden bench beside the chair. For a moment, she didn’t talk; maybe because she wanted you to talk freely, maybe she was weighting her next words. She observed you for a while. Despite how badly you tried to conceal your real feelings, she knew exactly what was going on in your pretty head and she understood.
“He left, didn’t he?” She finally said
You knew it was coming, but her question (that sounded more like a statement) still stung. When you turned to look at her, you half expected to see the ‘I told you so’ look, instead, she reached for your shoulder and gently patted.
No matter how much work you had done on your feelings, the simple pat on the shoulder (and maybe because it came from your grandmother) was enough to bring tears to your eyes. You blinked furiously, trying to stop yourself from breaking down before her but it was no use.
“Come here.” She gently grabbed your hand and pulled you towards her. She wrapped her frail arms around you, gently rocking you, letting you cry in her arms.
Head pressed against her chest, you felt like a child. You felt loved and safe.
“You’ll be fine.” She whispered and planted a soft kiss on top of your head.
Whoever said that demons couldn’t love, clearly knew nothing about them. Of course, it was rare. Heck, Wooyoung wasn’t sure if he had ever witnessed it in his extremely long life, but he knew it could happen, just like he knew that usually nothing good would come out of those relationship. It was always the same story: they met, fell in love, went against the world, only for one, if not two, to die.
But despite knowing it, he convinced himself he could be the exception.
He knew that his feelings for you weren’t just an illusion. Some would say he was simply infatuated with you but it wouldn’t be right. If it was just an obsession, he wouldn’t feel the urge to be by your side every moment of your life. He wouldn’t feel the need to protect you from the world. But reality was, he couldn’t protect you. Hongjoong proved it to him with just one little, innocent visit. Hongjoong showed him he was still young (at least for a demon) and naïve.
That night, he watched you fall asleep in his arms, safe, protected, loved and he knew right then that your grandmother was right, that Hongjoong was also right: he couldn’t stay in your life and except you to survive. No matter how much it pained him to admit, he couldn’t always be by your side. All it would take for him was to arrive seconds too late and you would be gone forever. Wooyoung couldn’t take the risks.
So he left.
Wooyoung knew he was being a coward by purely ignoring you. He heard all of your calls. Worse, he saw how his absence affected you, how slowly your resolution crumbled. He heard your many cries, your begging – it almost broke him in return.  All he had to do was make his presence known and he would have you back in his arms – but he couldn’t. With all his might, he fought himself and resisted the urge.
But did it make him stop watching over you? No. Call him a masochist but he couldn’t stop. Just like tonight. After months of suffering, you finally chose to go out with your friends and have some fun. Of course, he followed you from afar, watching over you. While you were having a drink, laughing at your friends’ jokes, he stood outside, under the rain.
“You can’t stop yourself, huh.” Hongjoong’s voice echoed from behind him. There was no judgment in his voice but he could definitely hear some pity.
Wooyoung kept his mouth shut in fear of starting pouring his heart and reveal how he really felt about the whole situation. He glanced shortly at his friend before turning back his attention on you.
“She looks happy.” Hongjoong commented.
You did.
Wooyoung thought he had finally lost his mind. Instead of watching you from afar as he had done for the past few months, he found himself at your parents’ place, lurking in the darkness of the forest, watching. Your sweet scent still lingered in the air, it was faint but he still could catch it. You were no longer at their place but he had missed you only by days.
Your grandmother however was still there and just like when they first met, she was in her rock chair, humming softly.
Despite Wooyoung’s attempt at concealing his presence, she knew exactly where he was. She pointed a finger in his direction and smiled.
“I was waiting for you.”
Now, that took him off guard.
“Took you long enough.”
Wooyoung hesitated, only for a second. He wasn’t fond of witches – they were malicious and unpredictable. On the other hand, your grandmother had proved to be a very different kind of witch.
“You knew I would come?” He got out of his hideout and walked towards her.
“Just a hunch.”
Being a strong demon meant that there were very few things in this world that could terrify him, but Wooyoung had to admit that being observed so intensely by this old woman did spook him.
“You were right.” It bruised his ego to admit it but he felt the need to say it.
He didn’t think she could surprise him anymore, but she did.
“I wish I wasn’t.”
Her words, no matter how nice they were, hurt more than he wished to admit.
Wooyoung sighed, feeling exhausted and defeated. He plopped on a step and rested his head in between his hands. With closed eyes, and against better judgment, he inhaled sharply, concentrating on the traces of your scent. Hell, he missed you.
“What are you going to do?” The old woman asked, voice filled with sympathy.
Wooyoung turned his face to look at her, pained. “Honestly? I don’t know.” If he was being rational, he knew he had to stop looking for you, looking after you, it did him no good and it definitely did no good to you. Even if you couldn’t feel his presence, he was holding you back. “I know I should stop and let her go. But damn, it’s hard.”
Just like she did with you only few days ago, your grandmother reached for him and patted his head.
“For her sake and for yours, you need to let go.”
Slowly but surely, Wooyoung managed to let go of his bad habit. But not completely. At first, he kept visiting you, watching over you and making sure you were safe, with no other demon around you. Making sure that you were happy. But then, he managed to give you some space. His visits became less frequent, months, years.
He watched you succeed in your career; not like he doubted you. He watched you getting stronger and opening up to new people. He watched you falling in love once more, getting married, have a child. He wouldn’t deny that he wished he was the man standing by your side, sharing all those moments with you, but he knew there was much he couldn’t give you.
Hongjoong appeared by his side, wearing a worried look on his face which was unusual coming from him – that made Wooyougn pause. “What is it?”
“You should see her.”
“Why?” It had been ten years since the last time he had paid you a visit. Time was a strange thing. For humans, it meant death was getting closer. For him? It meant nothing. When he had last saw you, he came to realize how fragile you got, how your end was nearing. It tore his heart. He could deal with a life where you weren’t his, but dealing with a life without you was so much worse.
“Because it’s time.” Hongjoong hesitated for a moment. “I think you should say goodbye. And I think she will appreciate that too.”
Wooyoung thought that leaving was the most painful thing he had ever done. Wrong. To see you so frail, so fragile was much worse.
As he came to the hospital, he spotted your legacy; children, grandchildren, all preparing themselves for what was inevitable. But could we ever get ready for death? Demons, yes, humans not so much.
“Hi, doll.” Wooyoung whispered to your sleeping figure. He outstretched his hand, wanting nothing more than touch your face, to feel your warmth once more but halted. You were so close, yet so far. “I know, I have no right to say it now but hell, I missed you. So much.”
“I’m sorry for leaving you. I won’t ask for your forgiveness, but know that I’m sorry.” Wooyoung had never cried in his life, not even when it broke his heart leaving you, but now that he was finally confessing, letting everything out, tears were slowly gathering in the corner of his eyes. “I watched over you for a while – I just couldn’t let go. But when I saw you rebuilding your life, I knew I had to let go, to give you the space you needed to completely forget about me.”
“As if I could ever forget about you, asshole.” You muttered as you slowly opened your eyes and looked at him.
Startled, Wooyoung almost jumped from the bed and ran for his life. Ironic, considering he used to be the one scaring you.
Even in your state, you managed a chuckle. “Did I scare the mighty demon?”
“Nope.” Wooyoung cleared his throat. “Ok, maybe a little.”
“What took you so long?” You complained, “Do you know how hard I’ve been trying to hold back? I expected to see you sooner – especially since I saw Hongjoong.”
“You saw Hongjoong?”
“He thought he was being discrete or maybe he thought I was too old to notice, to remember.”
Wooyoung snickered at that and took note to remind Hongjoong to never underestimate a human. Even an old lady as yourself.
“Hey, Wooyoung. Do me a favor? Next time we meet, and I know we’ll meet again. Don’t be a coward and stay with me hm?”
Those words were all he needed to let his tears fall free. He took your hand and brought it to his lips, kissing your knuckles one last time.
“I promise.”
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imperiuswrecked · 5 months
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pssst can i please ask you to spoiler the raven baby reveal to me...?
So the summary of X-Men Blue: Origins (2023) Mystique is wandering around New York acting crazy and mumbling about her lost baby, Kurt catches up with her and tries to talk her into calming down.
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Kurt gives Raven his sword which breaks the mental barriers and it's revealed that while Raven was married to Baron Wagner, she and Irene were an on again, off again, couple who would hook up with other people whenever it helped their goals.
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Raven had hired Irene to be the housemaid so she could stay close while Raven was married to Wagner, using his money/influence as they wanted and having a torrid love affair with Irene in private. Azazel shows up and Irene encouraged Raven to have an affair with him as well, because she had visions of the future.
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Basically Irene wanted a love child with Raven, but needed Azazel to believe he was the father because she knew that unless Kurt was set on a path to be his constant foe/destroyer of his plans then Azazel would rise to power.
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Irene's visions aren't something she can stop and she lives her life according to how to bring about her visions but she doesn't tell Raven any of this until 5 years after Kurt's birth. So she and Raven have a child, Kurt, and from my understanding of the reading, Mystique can copy the genes down to a molecular level and took the gene patterns from Azazel and Baron Wagner and impregnated Irene. So Kurt doesn't have 2 parents, he has 4, well 5 including Margali Szardos who was his adopted mom. Kurt is now battling for the #1 spot for "most parents and most confusing parental origin in comics" and he's up against the Maximoff twins who have gone through 3 sets of parents.
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Back to the story, Raven dumps Azazel who is such a pathetic loser, I love that lol. Raven fakes being pregnant by shapeshifting to look like she is pregnant as the months go by. Baron Wagner discovers his wife's affairs, and being the homophobe he is, is stabbed by Raven who then spends the next few months switching between forms to make people believe that the Baron and his wife are both still around, waiting until Irene gives birth. I'm guessing because Raven intended to use the Baron's money/pretending to be him so she and Irene could live in comfort or until they wanted to move on.
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Irene is the one who gives birth to Kurt, and Raven overcome with joy/love for Kurt doesn't want his first sight of her to be human so she reveals herself.
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The townspeople are of course in an uproar, want to kill the demon woman and her demon child, Irene tells Raven to get to safety and that she would be ok, but Raven fears for Irene so she leaves Kurt under a tree and rushes back to kill the people who would hurt her wife and discovers Irene is missing, she runs back to find Kurt and he's gone too.
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Five years pass and she finds Irene again, this time watching a young Rogue, Irene reveals everything to Raven, the Azazel vision, Irene needed Kurt to be raised as an outcast etc. Raven and Irene both know they are in a toxic relationship, but they love each other too much so they went to the one man who can make everything worse, Charles Xavier. Of course Xavier does what he does best, erases people's memories and implants new ones.
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So now Kurt has 2 deadbeat mutant moms, 1 deadbeat demonic mutant father, 1 dead human father, and 1 adopted mother and they all give him the most drama & trauma that you will ever see in comics! Love wins (?)
I am currently taking donations to hire Kurt a therapist (who isn't Professor X), save an elf's sanity and donate /jk
I will say that this origin, though very messy, does at least confirm that Irene is just as messy/toxic as Raven, so I hope they continue to be totally bad for each other and 100% in love, which is very refreshing to see in wlw couples and I really hope they do not try to soften their edges, especially Raven's, I do not want a "good mother Raven", but time will tell. Also finally Kurt is Baron Wagner's son technically due to partially copied genetics so it finally makes sense for why Kurt has the Wagner last name, which is something that always bugged me, because imo if he had zero connection to the Baron then he wouldn't have the Wagner last name. Also this doesn't invalidate the Azazel retcon from before because again technically Azazel believes Kurt is his son, and Kurt does have partially copied genetics from Azazel.
I think it was a really tough balancing act to have to write, I wish it could have been written a bit better or the thoughts of Rogue actually being Irene/Raven's daughter would have worked better. Like imagine if Raven and Irene were both pregnant, Irene had Rogue and Raven had Nightcrawler or Irene had them both as twins, then they wouldn't just be foster/adopted siblings but also bio siblings, and it could have opened up the door for more stories involving them as brother and sister trying to deal with their mothers. Marvel constantly ignores the potential for Rogue and Kurt's sibling dynamic and I wish we got more of it in the comics. I get that the writer was trying to keep to the old canon while creating the new canon and using the original plan for Kurt's parentage, so while I feel it's way too complicated this is also comics where complicated plots and retcons have been a long standing tradition meant to torment us readers.
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thetrashbagswasteland · 3 months
Text
Today only from a card carrying member of the Castis Vakarian Appreciation Squad, a refresher on canon since there's a not-zero number of people in 2024 who seem blissfully unaware of how much we know about this man in canon (including andromeda yes the game is canon go cry about it).
He's a cop. Yes Castis works for C-Sec, implied within the same unit/building as Garrus and to the contrary of his son, is implied to be both good at his job and well-regarded for it. (This will be important for later points try to remember it.)
He has alien friends. Castis is canonically one of Alec Ryder's best friends. They're good enough friends that he passes on rumours/heresay about the Reapers to him and reminisces about spending time with him on the Citadel. Any turian old enough to have been an adult during the FCW and who has human friends as of canon prolly isn't a miserable old xenophobe. Whilst no, working at C-Sec doesn't exclude him from having shitty thoughts about Krogan and Quarians, it's a fairly good sign he's not anti-alien on the whole if he'll befriend a human.
He's got a personality. How dare minor characters have those! But more seriously, acting as if Castis is portrayed as nothing but a rule-worshipping automaton is doing him a disservice. If nothing else, his willingness to befriend and hang out with Alec, who's very much of the opinion that rules are guidelines to be circumvented when at all possible, shows that he's capable of nuance and maybe even a dash of line-pushing of his own accord. Maybe he's comfortable within the system and trusts law and order as set out legally above all else but c'mon guys, you don't hang out with a guy who goes on to break AI law and get dishonourably discharged (and then remain friends with him after that when it's made damned clear few others do) without being able to see shades of grey.
He trusts his son. This one I suspect may be more contentious BUT let's be honest here, Garrus isn't an easy person to be around. We hear about the pair of them clashing on the job and within their personal lives about the spectres but here's the thing: Garrus winds up on a secretive mission with a human and xenophobic terrorist group, after running off to a lawless hellscape to play batman. He remains distant until done working with Cererbus and then returns home with a crazy tale about a dead human spectre, genocidal robots from the year dot and half his face missing. Castis not only believes him but does so willingly enough that he does everything he can to help him get the news to the right people, just in case he's right. Equally, whilst we don't have an exact date for when the call with Alec occurs, it's post-start of ME1 at the very least and within that he's already willing to take what Garrus is saying Shepard says at face value. Within that call, it's made patently obvious that no matter what, he still trusts Garrus on some level and is proud of him on top of that trust.
He cares deeply for the people around him. Perhaps this one's linked with 3 but whatever, my post, my rules; in the comics, the picture we're painted by (unreliable narrator) Garrus is that of a driven, cold man who doesn't care enough about his own family. This is why he doesn't come home when Mama Vakarian gets hurt, we're told, and we're expected to take that as face value even when she herself says that by the time he can get away from work and be back there, she'll be mostly healed. Kinda contrasted by the fact that he seemingly retires/takes time off from C-Sec to be with his wife when she's dying. Now, the details are kinda fuzzy on the whys and hows but during ME3, he and Solana escape Palaven together. Maybe the war's going poorly enough that they're able to finagle staying together through the draft, maybe they come across one another purely by luck, we don't know. Either way, rather than attempt to get back to the Citadel and to where he presumably still had a job and/or was needed, he sticks with his daughter. Can't do anything more to help his son but he's gonna stick with at least one of his kids to make sure she survives. As well as all this, the "do things properly or don't do them at all" lesson Garrus struggles with from him is (gasp) not bad advice for their situation. He's trying to teach his son important life skills and whilst there's no denying he's going about it wrong, a key point is in fact that Garrus learns to master the gun he's struggling to fire and it in fact becomes one of his specialities! He becomes an exceptionally good marksman! The lesson fucking worked! He still, regardless of the reasons for it, seems to support and be content with Garrus not fulfilling his mandatory 15 but instead joining C-Sec and (worse still) doesn't have too much of an issue with him consorting with Spectres. Perhaps he's not best pleased but he definitely comes to accept that that's how things are irrespective of his own feelings about them as either a concept or as people (his belief that Garrus being a spectre would be a terrible no good very bad idea is, in fact, backed up by canon as being entirely correct too).
Conclusion/TL:DR. Take a lesson from Castis Vakarian himself here, either write about this man properly or don't write him at all, I'm begging y'all. There's an awful lot more to this character if you think about him and put together the information canon gives us on him, so do so.
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weebsinstash · 10 months
Note
Okay but AU where Miguel is an alpha and reader is normal but they still give off the smell of being in heat before their period or just once a month so poor Miguel has to struggle with an oblivious reader whose just going around saying hi to people like they’re not a walking talking advertisement for sex
Reader: what do you mean 'I probably shouldn't go near Miguel right now? I thought he looked like he had a headache earlier so I got him some of those empanadas he likes from the cafeteria and some migraine tea
Peter B, not sure how he can tell you without sounding like an absolute freak that his friend is an Alpha and can smell that you're ovulating right now and if you go near Miguel when you're like this you could end up pregnant: beeeeecaaaussssse, Mayday misses you! Yeah, come hold my baby and come this way and hang with us and definitely NOT to Miguel's office!
(Lmao Miguel just checking security feeds by coincidence and, ugh, double whammy combo, he sees you holding the baby, in his eyes looking like the CUTEST potential mom, and he's just like "well, if she gets pregnant it's God's will 🙏". 'Poke holes in the condoms' girl he doesnt OWN condoms and he tells you up front, on his shit like "we're married, this is what married couples do". Or it's like. Kinda like with superman lol, where Miguel's altered not completely human DNA skirts around the spermacide in condoms that's formulated for humans so he might knock you up unintentionally but once it's on the way he wont let you get rid of it and he's actually so excited)
He overhears another Alpha make comments on your body and your scent and you just turn your head to see Miguel holding them by the collar as their little feeties dangle in the air and he's growling at them to "watch who they're speaking about that way" and you're just left ignorant that he's basically strangling the dude cause he was saying the equivalent of "if Y/N doesn't watch out she's gonna end up knocked up" and "hey maybe it'll be me" (no, absolutely not, run laps cadet, the boss ain't happy with ya)
And it works in reverse too! He smells good and you definitely cant help but notice 😩❤️ He stands just a little too close to you one day and you can smell this kind of masculine musk, I feel like he's kind of like too lowkey a recluse holing himself up to wear men's cologne but he's also like kind of an older man so just like, the thought of him having the scented pomade for his hair and you smell things like his deodorant and body wash when he's too close and it all smells very much you know Male but in a sexy way, the scent of aftershave sticking to him some mornings, coffee on his breath when he points to something on a monitor over your shoulder, just all these sorts of smells to associate with his presence even if you can't pick up the intricacies of his more "biological" components. You're up working late once and you fall asleep in a chair and later on you wake up tucked in on a couch in a break room with a blanket that has a scent on it (to tell other Alphas to back off and let you rest) and you can't help but put your face into it. like, as a young girl I didn't understand but I'm 26 now and there are just some male colognes and just like idk scents where you smell it and it's just like UGH I bet the man who left this is big 😩❤️ if it's not overpowering and you're not used to smelling "dude scents" that shit can be dangerous in the wrong hands
You experience the rare event of Miguel actually sitting down for once (shocking I know) and your desire to help and also your coochie activates when you see him looking kind of tired and run down and like, rubbing his face with a hand and he's got a migraine and here you are, "let me platonically rub your shoulders sir it definitely isn't at least partially because I'm crazy crazy horny for you and something about you kinda lowkey makes me wanna serve you"
Like you reach out and start rubbing his neck and shoulders and he's just so sore and had been working so hard he's like GROANING and shit like 😩 how could I not run my fingers through his hair, how could I SURVIVE if he started doing that shit. I couldn't, he felt your nails lightly drag against his scalp and it sent shivers up his spine and now you're getting your back put on the nearest flat surface while he pulls all your clothes off
"Sorry, but I don't think I can hold myself back anymore."
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cybertroniannugget · 6 months
Note
What if… Sam had a sibling who is very chaotic!!!! And they survive through out the Bayverse movies and when they meet Hound, Crosshairs and Drift, how would those 3 react to the crazy lil human?!? ;-;
(Could you possibly add Optimus Prime and Bumblebee!?)
Okay this is the first ever request I answer, kinda nervous tbh.
Hope you like it, and thanks for requesting^^
It's called Haiku...
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Also, I don't know what pictures to add lmao
About this fic: sfw, gn reader, takes place in aoe
901 words
Sitting in the passenger's seat, squished next to Shane, you look out the window.
Sure, it was uncomfortable, but there were only 3 seats for the 4 of you.
You didn't say anything though, after they had just lost their friend, complaining would be of no use.
So you watch the wide desert landscape going by.
A white truck drove by on the other side of the road, but you didn't pay that much attention to it.
That's when the truck you four were in started rumbling. At first you didn't know what was going on, but when the seats shifted back roughly, the worn down leather replaced by more comfortable fabric seats you kind of got an idea.
"A man of taste I see. Western Stars are pretty nice.", you complimented, after seeing the symbol on the steering wheel, before the autobot logo took its place.
You opened the window to take a look at the Prime's new altmode.
Red flames across the blue paintjob, and everything was just so shiny.
"I must say, you looking good Prime!", you laugh, sticking your head back in.
"It was awesome but it was insane!", you heard Shane yell out excitedly.
The Prime's deep voice echoed over the radio, calling for his Autobots.
"I wonder If I'll see Bumblebee again. I missed that guy."
"Bumblebee?", Cade asked.
"Yeah, he's an Autobot don't worry. He's no giant insect, if that's what you thought about."
The man just raised an eyebrow at you, making Tessa chuckle in amusement.
After a few more minutes of driving you all got out of the truck, after Optimus opened the doors for you.
"Your dad is nice, but he needs to relax a lil...", you whisper to Tessa.
"He sure does, but he's trying his best."
"Never doubted that, don't worry.", you add, nudging her arm gently.
Optimus transformed, being greeted by his bots.
"Mr. free leader of the galaxy. I knew you'd make it. I never doubted it."
"Just who are these guys...", you mumble, looking around.
The green one with what looks like a cape suddenly turned to point his guns at you.
"Oh okay, that one feels like killin today...", you say, raising you arms sarcastically.
When the biggest one started lifting his guns was when you started sweating though.
But having fate on your side, like always, Optimus stopped them.
"Thanks Prime, I thought I was done for this time."
"🎶...Survivor! 🎶", Bee's Radio echoed.
"What's he mean by that now?", Hound asked, adjusting his cigar.
"We go way back. I saw Megatron so many times already. He nearly killed me twice but meh, still alive and kicking"
"Wait, aren't you that human from the fight in-?", Drift turned to ask.
"Chicago? Yeah, I've been there. Threw a brick at Megs myself.", you interrupted, proud of your past actions, arms crossed before your chest. "I've been there since the beginning. When it was just about a pair of glasses from my crazy great grandfather."
"They have fought with us. They're the only human I know I can trust."
"Rude...", Shane mumbled under his breath.
"I mean, how'd a squishy survive all that?!", Hound asked into the round of Cybertronians and humans
"Who you callin squishy?! I'm not the big one here."
"Pff, that's just armor. I'm as fast as a horse!"
"Well first of, it's as healthy as a horse. And also, it's none of your damn business how I survived all the shit I've been through. Because honestly, I don't even know myself. Maybe I'm just lucky"
You shrug, looking up at Optimus, who's serious demeanor made your heart sink.
He's always been serious yes, but a kind soul. Always open for questions.
Now he's just, well... dark.
"Well, but I'm sure as hell gonna survive this, so when we startin?!"
"Enthusiasm, I like it.", Crosshairs mentioned, spinning a gun in his servo, before tucking in back into his belt.
"🎶Where have youuuu been?!🎶", Bumblebee sang over the radio.
"Oooh, Rihanna, you got some mad taste Bee!"
Sticking your hands into the pockets of your worn down jeans, you look up at the yellow and black bot, who's optics were fixed on you.
"Well, after Chicago I needed a new place to stay. So I applied to work in a different hospital. And it led me to Austin, Texas."
You laugh
"In the good ol' south", you say, mocking the southern accent.
"I think I like that one", Hound says, leaning back against a rock wall.
"They have what it takes, like sunset colors on blue,
strength guts and virtue.", Drift added.
"If this is another hiku I swear Imma blow you to shreds...", Crosshairs murmured, turning to walk away.
"It's called Haiku!", you correct him.
"What?", he mumbled annoyed.
"I don't care what it's called. I just want to leave this place."
"Well, I like it, thank you.", you say to Drift, smiling at the bot.
In this moment of peace, it was of course Crosshairs who needed to add something unnecessary.
"Nah, it's lame"
Without warning, Drift jumped at him, swords drawn, ready to attack.
"And I thought I was crazy...", you whisper to Bee, rolling your eyes.
The bot snickered.
"Lord may you give me strength to not make anyone here short circuit on purpose..."
You squint your eyes, thinking.
"I don't even know their names yet... Wow"
"🎶Still don't know your name🎶"
"Oh you're right tho Bee.", you laugh
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sungbeam · 1 year
Text
OFF THE RECORD ▷ PART ONE (EP1-8)
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nonidol!ji changmin x fem!reader
everyone thinks changmin is cute and harmless, but you know that's not who he really is.
▷ genre, part warnings. e2l, childhood friends gone bad, (extra) slow burn, fluff, angst, mentions of childhood trauma and parental manipulation, arguing, bittersweet galore, nct ten is there for the sole purpose of being nosy like the rest of us or for being a 2nd male lead who knows!, swearing, hurt/comfort, ji changmin dancing. (need i go on), symptoms of panic/anxiety, a lot of non-tbz moments sorry i meant it when i said extra slow burn, pining haha...ha (very subtle)
▷ PART ONE WC. 18.5k
this is the third installment of the love in unity series! this can be read as a standalone, but i encourage u to read jacob and eric's storylines too! all prev and future yns will be referred to as _!yn ;) / otr part two
a/n: this was going to be a very quirky author's note, but it's not anymore bc i'm really mad at tumblr. pls enjoy :')
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EPISODE ONE (PILOT): OFF THE CLOCK
"NIGHT, Yn!"
"Good night, Yn-ie."
"Make sure you get some rest, Yn-ah! Good luck with the report."
The door out of the laboratory building shuttered closed after your last coworkers and peers swept out to leave you to the white noise of the lights above your head and the cooling units. You were probably the only person crazy enough to still be chained to your lab workbench on a Friday night, especially when it was already six o'clock. Your stomach growled its complaints as you tucked a pen behind your ear with a sigh. There was probably a bag of shrimp chips in the break room snack stash, and you pushed your stool beneath the workbench to head into the break room.
Now that the laboratory was practically barren except for you, it wouldn't be a bad idea to take the reign of Kun's speaker…
The sound of your phone ringtone blared out loud from your pocket, and you scrambled to grab it with your other hand not occupied with shrimp chip crumb dust (after having washed your hands, of course). You put the call on speaker then deposited your phone onto the countertop so both hands could be used for eating. "Yo."
"You've been hanging around Mark too much," Yeri answered from the other end.
You snorted, covering your mouth for a moment, then replying, "Well good evening to you, too, my beloved. What's up?"
You could hear the muffled sounds of your friends from the other side of the phone. A car door slammed shut. "Hey-yo, is that Yn? Yn, what's up, my dude?"
"Mark, can you speak like a regular human?" That was Seungkwan. "Hi Yn-ie! We miss you, mwah!"
"Look, man. Me and Yn are homies, and this is literally just how I talk—"
The car door opened and Yeri must have taken initiative to get out of the car herself at this point. You laughed at her audible eye roll. "Okay, now that you've heard what I have to deal with, will you tell me that you're coming to the dance draft show tonight?"
Your mood soured.
It wasn't that you didn't want to go for Yeri's sanity's sake, you just didn't want to go, period. What the performing arts called a rehearsal, they referred to as a "draft" stage, where they planned rough runs of acts for the showcase. It just so happened that the dance department was holding their draft show for people to sit-in to watch tonight; their final showcase would be held on the Friday night of finals week, which was only in a few weeks now.
(Why did they call it a "draft" stage instead of simply a "rehearsal"? Well, you had no clue, and you didn't have any plans to ask anyone who would know the answer.)
When you didn't immediately answer, you heard Yeri's grumble. "Don't nerd out on me, Miss Yn Ln."
You gasped. "Nerd out on you? I'm being responsible—"
"You're being a workaholic!"
You pursed your lips together and quickly rinsed your fingers of shrimp chip crumbs. "Fair. But I'm sorry, I'm not going."
A brief pause. Then, the sigh. "Okay. That's okay," she said. "Wanna meet us for dinner afterwards at least?"
Your stomach grumbled, right on cue. It wasn't loud enough for Yeri to hear on the other end, but the timing made you laugh to yourself. "Definitely."
There was a smile in your friend's voice. "Cool! I'll text you details once we figure out what's happening. In the mean—" her voice was interrupted by the sound of muffled yelling on the other side, and Yeri pulled her mouth away from the phone so she could screech at Seungkwan, Mark, and now, Kim Jungwoo, to be quiet and put their seatbelts on. You heard vaguely about Jungwoo being late for his call time, and you were not at all surprised. She returned to the phone with a grumble. "You're really leaving me with the kids, Yn?"
You giggled. "Sorry, Yeri. I'll pay for your dinner."
"Deal. See you soon, babe."
"See ya, love!"
When the phone call ended, you realized just how thick the silence fell around you. It settled like a blanket over your senses, and it all became a bit overwhelming, especially after such a loud phone call.
You sighed, putting the shrimp chips back in the snack stash. You might as well go find where Kun hid his speaker to fill the silence then.
— ✶
People were yelling. And tripping. And crying.
In retrospect, this constituted as a normal backstage environment for something like a finals showcase draft rehearsal. It was hardly even a rehearsal, but more so a sneak peek showcase. There were people in the audience, after all.
Ji Changmin would know. This would be his third winter draft show out of his three years here in university. There were always showcases at the end of each quarter, but the winter show wielded the title of most anticipated. With the cold and rainy weather keeping most people indoors, it allowed for a larger crowd to come flocking toward said indoor modes of entertainment. Thus, the winter showcase and all of its hype.
Changmin lingered in his little corner of the backstage area, calmly stretching out his lanky limbs while chaos erupted all around him. He had two acts this time around—a duet with Lee Juyeon, as well as a solo performance. It had been enough to keep him busy for the quarter, among his other classes.
"—Jungwoo, you're late!"
He raised his head at the sound of Lee Minho’s voice from across the room, the dirty blond sending a deadpanned glare at the man in question. Kim Jungwoo’s eyes were wide with doe-like innocence as he made his way toward his friend, his posse following behind and taking in the chaos with amused awe. Changmin could easily recognize those present—Kim Yeri, Mark Lee, and Boo Seungkwan.
He turned his head away; it wasn’t his business, and he had much bigger things to worry about.
He raised his hands to his neck to put his headphones over his ears, but paused when he caught a few more echoes of their conversation.
“ — sorry Minho, but you know I can’t resist getting a free carpool ride,” Jungwoo said while setting his duffle bag in the corner and swiftly joining Minho in stretches. If Changmin was a hard ass when it came to dance and schedules, Minho was much worse. But Changmin respected him a lot, especially in a craft like dance and performance—he saw him as an equal.
A sigh from Minho. “Yeah, yeah. Poor Yeri.”
Yeri huffed, her hands shooting up into the air. “Thank you!”
Minho folded his arms over his chest as he stood up straight to stand next to Yeri as the two of them absentmindedly watched Jungwoo fold himself in two to stretch his long legs out. “Huh, no Yn tonight?”
Changmin didn’t know why he was still listening. He slowly lowered his headphones back to their position around his neck, then resumed stretching out his hamstrings. He could wait a couple more minutes before getting into his choreography…
“You know you’re not gonna see her anywhere near this place,” Yeri said with a pointed look. Changmin held back a retort, or even a snort. “Wanna get dinner with us tonight? She’s coming to meet us after the show.”
“Ah, I’d love to, but I promised Jisung I’d swing by the studio afterwards. Hey, have you met Ten yet? You should ask…”
Changmin decided that this was an appropriate moment to tune out. He swiftly donned his headphones and reached for his phone hidden in the pile of his duffle bag and jackets in the corner. He didn’t even know why he listened in when your friends brought you up. Why were you even still connected to the dance and performing arts department people anyway? He huffed, rolling his eyes with a small shake of his head. It wasn’t like you wanted to be connected to dance anyway. So why give him a constant reminder of your existence and the past you shared—
“Changminnie!” Juyeon appeared in front of him, waving to him with that goofy smile to get his attention.
Changmin broke into a smile as he shifted one side of his headphones from his ear. “Hey. Wanna go over some of the routine?”
Juyeon nodded. “Yeah, I’m ready. I was trying to get your attention, but I think you were just occupied.”
Whoops. Changmin flicked his wrist as he followed Juyeon down the hallway to a more private place to practice with his friend. “Yeah, sorry. I was just thinking of something.”
“Oh, okay,” Juyeon ducked his head into an empty dressing room in the back hallway, beckoning Changmin to follow him in. “Nothing to worry about though? You can talk to me; no judgment.”
Changmin chuckled and closed the door behind him. “Nah, nothing important. Let’s just focus on the performance.” Anything involving you? Definitely not important anymore.
— ✶
Late February brought the cold, bitter winds of night to the university, so the trek all the way across campus from the laboratory buildings to the performing arts hall was a hellish one. You kept your head tucked into the puffy collar of your puffer jacket, hands stuffed into your pockets, a happy tune blasting in your ears to keep you going all the way up the road. It was around nine o’clock by the time you made it to the front of the performing arts hall, and you could already see the sea of people meandering outside its doors post-draft show.
You shivered and pulled your phone out from your pocket to see where your friends were waiting for you.
“Yn-ie!”
Your head lifted and you grinned, waving your hand at Seungkwan who was making his way over to you. “Hi Kwannie,” you greeted and wrapped your arms around him in a warm embrace.
When you’d pulled away, Seungkwan made a face as he shuddered. “Jesus, it’s cold. I should have brought a scarf or something. Did you walk here?”
You began to nod, but he tsked. “Aish, Yn. You should’ve called! No one should have to walk in this torturous cold.”
You laughed. “It’s no big deal. We’re about to go get some hot food, so it’s cool.”
“We might have to wait for a little longer.” Both you and Seungkwan turned toward Yeri, Mark, and Jungwoo who were walking over. Jungwoo had a sweatband holding his bangs out of his face and his duffle slung over his shoulder. He had his jacket draped over his arm; he was probably warm from the showcase. “We’re waiting on Ten to finish up.”
“Hi Jungwoo,” you greeted him, and the man returned the expression with a side hug. You furrowed your brows. “Who’s Ten?’’
Mark replied with a sniffle from the cold, “Oh, he’s a new exchange student! Well, he was originally admitted here, but he went abroad for a year. He's with the NCT frat. Super cool, super funny. He’s great at dance though.”
“I think you’ll vibe with him, Yn,” Yeri chimed in. “He’s asking a couple people for their opinion on a few parts of his routine, so I think he’ll be out soon.”
You nodded in understanding. You didn’t mind waiting, but you hoped what Yeri said about him was true. Hopefully you did get along with him, because you were honestly far too tired to forcefully play nice. You were hoping for a chill night anyway. Then again, as long as you could avoid a certain someone tonight, this would turn out to be a chill night in general.
You and your friends chatted for a few minutes only before Jungwoo caught someone’s eyes from behind you, Yeri, and Mark. He brightened. “Ten! Ten, over here!”
You all swiveled.
Ten was just as lean and lithe as Jungwoo was, but with black bangs, a pair of round spectacles hanging from the collar of his white T-shirt, and a cute smile on his face. You and he made brief eye contact before Jungwoo was hopping on the balls of his feet to greet him.
Jungwoo slung an arm around Ten’s shoulders as he brought him over to the group. “Yn, this is Ten Lee. Ten, this is Yn-ie—the friend we mentioned earlier.”
Your eyes widened slightly. “Why was I mentioned?” You laughed nervously.
Ten flashed you a boyish kind of smile. “Oh, it was nothing; don’t worry. It’s nice to meet you though.”
Your heart didn't slow at his assurance. “Ah, okay then. Uh, nice to meet you, too!”
“Did you get your routine settled?” Seungkwan asked as the lot of you began to move in one, loose blob toward Yeri’s car. (How all of you would manage to fit, that was something you mentally were trying to figure out. In Yeri’s tiny sedan, you might have to squish four people into the back seat.)
Ten nodded enthusiastically. “Yup, it’s all sorted. Minho and Changmin were really helpful with their comments.”
You felt the people around you freeze at the mention of Changmin’s name. You stiffened as well, but tried to force the strange feeling to go away. Your friends knew the drill, too, but you saw the way they glanced at you from their periphery.
Ten was smart, you realized, when his head tilted at all of your reactions.
Time for damage control. “That’s—that’s good!” Mark’s voice cracked and coughed to clear it. “I mean, Minho’s always been really attentive to details and stuff. I think he was almost recruited to become an idol or something like that…”
Ten pursed his lips, as if silently saying, ‘I’m not buying this bull’. You decided to just… do it. “Changmin’s a great dancer, too,” you said, and everyone shot disbelieving glances your way, but you could already see how Ten was grasping onto everything you were saying. You forced a neutral tone into the way you spoke, forced yourself not to let the bitterness seep through. No one deserved to fall victim to the feelings that were only meant for one Ji Changmin. “I’m glad he helped you out. He’s really good at sharp movements and isolations.”
“Oh, do you dance, Yn?” Ten piped up with a twinkle in his eyes.
“Ruh roh,” you heard Seungkwan murmur, and he shuffled away from you to go to the other side of Yeri’s car.
Maybe you purposefully let him see right through you. “Not really. It was a long time ago.”
You and Ten held eye contact, the silent tension like communication passed between the two of you—this was personal, but Ten could figure out that there was more to the story. It was odd though; the way he didn’t fear prodding just a little bit. You didn’t know why you were letting yourself feed him more bait, but Yeri was hollering for the two of you to squeeze into the backseat, and you snapped out of it.
Weird…
Ten held the backseat door open for you. “Looking forward to getting to know you, Yn,” he said pleasantly.
Your eyes narrowed slightly as you slipped into the backseat. “Same to you…”
EPISODE TWO: OFF THE TABLE
YOUR curiosity won you out.
In fact, it won you over so much that you agreed to get coffee with Ten Saturday afternoon—with Mark and Yeri, of course. The four of you had coordinated stopping by one of the coffee shops in the shopping mall just down the hill from the university to hang out and destress a little from the incoming second wave of STEM midterms. Well, you needed to destress. Mark was in communications, Yeri in psychology, and Ten was… what was Ten’s major again?
“Foreign affairs,” he answered before lifting the straw of his iced americano to his lips. “Lots of foreign language classes and politics and history. Politics and capitalism classes are not my favorite, but all the cultural courses on campus are really great.”
You bobbed your head, propping your chin onto your palm. You sat across from him at one of high tables in the cafe; Mark and Yeri’s stools were barren, save for the belongings they left for you and Ten to watch, while they literally sprinted across the mall to the grocery store because they forgot they were supposed to bring booze to the NCT-RVE joint alumni homecoming tonight. You probably weren’t going to go just because social energy came in short supply these days, but you promised to send a card for your friends in RVE.
“I can imagine,” you commented. “I took a really neat course on African tribes and culture in freshman year, and I miss my professor a lot. I sometimes wonder what would have happened had I joined his study abroad program in Ghana instead of staying here.”
Ten’s head did the tilt thing again, the one you recognized from last night as something he did when he was intrigued. “That does sound really cool. What made you stay?”
Where do I even begin? “My major,” you replied simply. It wasn’t really a lie—not entirely a lie. You sipped on your latte, a faraway look in your eyes. “I was so set on a plan that I guess I got nervous about the unknown should I have gone on that trip.”
“Mm, I understand.” He had taken on a softer look now, something more akin to empathy. “It is a little scary, but while I was in Indonesia, I realized I wouldn’t have traded such an experience for anything else."
You set your cup down. "Have you always wanted to dabble in global affairs?"
"Uh, I'm not sure," he said, head tilted upward with a scrunch in his nose. He nudged his glasses up the smooth slope of his sculpted nose. "I was kind of put in a situation where I had to learn a lot of new languages, and I luckily turned out to be pretty good at picking up on them."
"Wow, that's really cool," you chuckled. A talent you definitely envied. And it seemed like Ten had made the decision to pursue this future of his on his own. You wished you could say the same.
From the counter of the café, you heard one of the workers call out your order number for cinnamon rolls, fresh from the oven.
You began to slip off your stool, and Ten spoke up, "Oh, I can totally go get those."
"It's no problem," you chirped, "I'm already down anyway." You were swift to scurry over to the counter and pick up your table's tray of cinnamon rolls with a smile at the worker in deep gratitude. The thick, warm sweetness wafted into your nose, and you inhaled the delights with a blissful grin.
However, as you turned to head back to the table, you halted abruptly, nearly knocking the plates on the tray into each other.
There, standing next to your table and chatting with Ten, were Ji Changmin and Choi Chanhee.
Great.
The sweet dessert smell soured and tasted like acid on your tongue. Bitter, like the taste of hot coffee straight from the pot. You schooled your face into neutrality, but there was no way all of the uncomfortableness could stay away.
You made your way over; the tray was getting heavy.
"—actually here with Yn, Mark, and Yeri—" Ten was pointing your way and you had to control your urge to hide.
Changmin and Chanhee's heads turned in sync, but only Changmin's eyes narrowed at the sight of you. You returned the expression wholeheartedly.
Chanhee held his breath, muttering a "Yikes" under his breath, while Ten observed the interaction with slightly parted lips. Huh.
"Ji."
"Ln."
You deposited the tray onto the table and your biceps sighed in relief. Those four cinnamon rolls truly were quite hefty on their own.
You could still feel Changmin’s eyes on you as you slid onto the stool across from Ten. “Something you’d like to say to me?” You addressed him with ill-suppressed snark.
Changmin’s eyes narrowed. “Nothing that you’ll take into importance anyway. Just didn’t think you would ever hang out with someone from the dance department.”
“Ten’s got a life outside of dance, Changmin,” you replied. You flashed him a thin-lipped smile. “He gets it.”
“And you’re so much better than me for having a so-called life,” he rolled his eyes. “You know, some people are just really passionate about dance—something you seem to still not understand.”
“I really don’t think you want me to bring up the trove of things you don’t understand—”
Chanhee subtly moved over to Ten’s side as the two of them observed the sparring match between you and Changmin. A sigh fell from his lips, and his eyebrows raised up all the way to his pink-dyed hairline.
Ten had taken one of the plates of cinnamon buns in front of him, silently offering Chanhee some. The latter refused, and Ten began to peel away one of the sultry, sweet dough layers. “Is this… normal?” He asked Chanhee under his breath, motioning to the still-bickering couple across from them.
Chanhee snorted. “It’s their mating call.”
It seemed he had said those four words loud enough to catch yours and Changmin’s attention. A miracle, indeed.
“Ew,” both you and Changmin immediately grimaced at Chanhee. Then you looked at one another with a greater degree of disgust. “Stop copying me!”
…Or, less so a miracle, but rather, a tragedy.
Chanhee let out a haggard sigh, eyes sullen to a deadpan. “One of the few things the two of you will ever agree on.”
“The last thing we’ll ever agree on,” Changmin grumbled as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket. “C’mon Chanhee. We should probably order before JC!Yn and Kei finish loading up the car.”
Changmin was already making his way over to the cashier when Ten managed to get in a final question, “Are you guys coming to the NCT-RVE homecoming tonight?”
“Sure—”
“No.”
Chanhee sent Ten an apologetic look for Changmin’s brusque answer. “Sorry about him. We were thinking of it, but he might be practicing with Juyeon tonight. See you later, Ten—and Yn!” He chased after Changmin, ambushing his friend by practically leaping onto his back and then smacking his shoulder.
Now that Changmin was away from you, the red in your vision had begun to clear away, and you finally remembered the set of delicious cinnamon rolls waiting for you.
Ten propped his cheek against his fist. “So… you and Changmin…”
You made a sour face as you cut off a slice of your cinnamon roll. “What about the gremlin?” You asked. As soon as the buttery, sweet delight hit your tongue, you felt your body lighten and you did a little happy dance in your seat.
Ten chuckled at your behavior. “Lovers gone wrong?”
You choked on the bite.
Your new friend’s eyes widened comically to the size of saucers as he literally pounced across the table to pat your back. “Shit—sorry, Yn. I probably should’ve waited for you to finish swallowing, huh?” He winced when you’d managed to breathe correctly and washed the bite of food down with a sip of coffee. He returned to his perch, letting you recover while he talked through his thoughts. “I don’t mean to pry—actually—” he paused, reconsidering, “—I do mean to pry. Sorry, I’m kind of a sucker for this kind of stuff.”
One of your eyes squinted at him as you massaged your throat. “Yeah, I kind of figured.”
He beamed at you boyishly, the kind of expression that almost had your defenses slipping. Almost. Ten was one slippery fellow. For some reason, you kind of respected him for being upfront about the nosiness, and if you were being honest, if this drama wasn’t yours, you would also be curious about the whole thing.
“Can’t help myself sometimes,” he confessed with a mere shrug. “You don’t owe an explanation or backstory, of course.”
You sucked in a breath, opting to hold back on eating your pastry until you and Ten were done with this topic. “I’m just going to say that Changmin and I were not ‘lovers gone wrong’,” you said, body shuddering.
“Mm,” he hummed. His eyes wandered behind you and over your head, swiftly followed by the action of waving to Changmin and Chanhee on their way out of the cafe. “It’s just interesting to me. Didn’t you just advocate for him the other night at the draft show?”
That rang a bell, unfortunately. “It’s complicated.”
Ten pressed his mouth into a saccharine smile. “I can imagine.”
EPISODE THREE: OFF THE PHONE
THERE was an avid knocking at the laboratory door, usually done by those who didn’t actually work at this specific lab. This lab area was usually reserved for upperclassmen and graduate students and their work.
“Yn-ie, could you get the door, please?” You heard Kun called out to you from his office. It wasn’t just the two of you tonight, but rather, just a few others you didn’t know as well as you did Kun. He often worked late hours like you did, always overworking himself even more as a fresh grad student. You, on the other hand, were trying to finish up this one research paper resulting from last quarter’s research project. If you were lucky, you would be able to send it off to be peer reviewed soon.
You slipped out from behind your workbench and maneuvered the maze of workbenches to head out into the corridor. Exhaustion wore at your bones from having such a long day, but you really did need to get some productive work done so you could focus specifically on your midterms approaching at the end of this week and the beginning of the following week.
However, as you turned the corner into the corridor, you nearly missed your footing. At the end of the hallway where the glass door to the outside was, you found yourself identifying one Ji Changmin and his friend, someone you didn’t recognize. The latter wore a gray hoodie beneath a black puffer vest, and he reacted the opposite to how Changmin did when they caught sight of you.
“Hey! Could you open the door, please?” Not-Changmin hollered through the glass, furiously shaking his sweater-pawed hand down at the door handle.
You didn’t want to. God, you really didn’t want to.
Changmin stared you down, as if daring you to come closer.
You opened the door, and let the cool gust of late February air and two outsiders into the safety and warmth of the laboratory building.
Hoodie Guy shuddered violently to get the cold out of his system. “Jesus, it’s cold outside. Thanks,” he said to you. Then he nudged Changmin with his elbow, as if jolting the man into reality.
“What are you doing here?” You asked, words directed toward Changmin in particular.
His dark bangs were tucked beneath a black beanie with his pair of black headphones hanging around his neck. “You think I want to be here?”
His friend sent him a look, his eyes flickering between you and Changmin furiously until the pieces clicked into his mind. “Well, uh oh…” he muttered while turning away slightly to scratch his head. He gathered his wits then. “Uh, Yn, right?”
You perked up. “Yes.”
“Uh,” he drawled. “We’re actually here for Jacob Bae. You see, we told him we’d come pick him up to take him over to—”
“Is he here?” Changmin asked.
Your eyebrow shot upward. At least they were here for a proper reason. You crossed your arms over your chest, glancing back toward the main laboratory floor way down the hall. Man, the safe zone felt so far away. “He actually just left like, ten minutes ago. Sorry.” The apology was said to Changmin’s friend, the one who seemed to have been able to figure out who exactly you were to Changmin. Not that you were anything to him. And did Changmin just talk about you to all his friends or something—?
“Oh.”
Changmin tapped his friend with the back of his hand. “C’mon Sunwoo. We’ll just meet him over there.”
Sunwoo wrinkled his nose. “I just think it’s weird that he didn’t text us to let us know before we came over here.”
There was a pause and you could practically see the gears in Changmin’s head turning. You would have left them to their own company, but you technically weren’t allowed to leave unauthorized students alone.
It was strange seeing Changmin break into something akin to sheepishness. You saw the dimples appear in the apples of his cheeks as he cupped the back of his neck. “I might not have told him we were coming…”
Sunwoo’s eyes and mouth widened and he whacked his friend with the length of his hoodie sleeve. Changmin let out one of those hyena laughs that set off triggers in your mind. It’d been awhile since you heard that… “Hyung! You’re so unreliable sometimes, oh my god. Even Eric would have remembered to tell him!”
Changmin made a noise of dismissal, slinging an arm around his friend. “Ah, it’s fine. We’ll just meet him there—as you said.”
“Worst texter award goes to,” Sunwoo rolled his eyes.
“I guess some things never change.” The words slipped out of your mouth before you could stop yourself, and both Sunwoo and Changmin suddenly remembered that you were in the hallway with them. Sunwoo had perked up as if he were surprised you would even comment on their situation, but Changmin cut an unreadable expression your way. You didn’t want to read into it.
“You literally forgot to answer a text I sent for three days,” Changmin quipped.
Well, if he was going to play the back and forth game. “That was once out of how many other times,” you scoffed. “You refused to answer anyone’s texts in the mornings anyway, so don't get on my case about that.”
“He did that to you, too?!” Sunwoo cut in with fire behind his words.
You could’ve sworn you saw the slightest bit of blush grace Changmin’s cheekbones as you hid a laugh behind your hand. “He did that to everyone—”
“Hey, I’m better over call; you know that!” Changmin argued. “Sunwoo, you can’t even talk about being a bad texter. I have to hunt for you on discord sometimes to get a straight answer.”
Sunwoo groaned, “Yah! Whatever. It’s still better than your average three-business-day reply speed.”
Changmin stammered, “It is not an average of three business days.” If your ears were not deceiving you, Ji Changmin was whining. “It’s a couple hours at least.”
“A couple hours means half a day,” you said to Sunwoo.
Changmin whipped his attention back to you, finger jabbed accusingly in your direction. “Hey, missy! You always fell asleep on-call, even when you promised that you would stay up to help me study.”
You shook your head. “Not my fault! You know that I always fell asleep around midnight back then.”
“Well, back then—”
“Is everything okay out here?”
Everything in the corridor came to a stand still, and Changmin closed his mouth, mid-sentence. Kun had his head poking out of the door to the main floor, a crease pressed between his brows and right above the rim of his thin spectacles. He eyed the two non-laboratory students with a slight grimace. Of course, Kun was aware of who Changmin was. He could recognize him because of his famed performer reputation on campus, but he knew his history with you because you had spent far too many late nights here at the lab with things plaguing your mind. You and Kun both had a problem with trouble sleeping and being workaholics.
You turned slightly to Kun. “Yeah, everything’s okay, Kun-ge.”
He sent you an unimpressed look.
“We,” Changmin piped up as he urged Sunwoo to the door, “were just leaving.” The mirth and fire from the bickering just a few seconds ago had faded, and you could feel him slipping away.
Kun drummed his fingers along the doorframe, eyebrows shooting up for a second. “Oh-kay… Yn-ie, Ten says he’s right around the corner and asks if you want some company walking home.”
The door to the laboratory behind you was held open, and the night breeze brushed through your hair. When you looked back, you saw that Changmin had stalled in the door for a second. But, it had only been that second before he and his friend were gone.
“Oh.” You made your way over to Kun. “That’s really cool of him. I’d love that.” Some company on a late-night walk back to your apartment did not sound bad at all. You’d done plenty of trips on your own, but sometimes having even one person with you would have been nice.
Kun nodded, pursing his lips, as the two of you walked into the main lab together and toward his office off to the side. “Okay, I’ll let him know. You’re for sure okay though? That must have been… not nice, seeing Changmin here.”
You gave a stiff shrug, your hip leaning against the door of his office while Kun settled back at his desk. “It’s fine,” you said. To be honest, you weren’t even sure if that was a lie or not. You’d heard Changmin laugh for the first time in years. You’d seen the dimples in his cheeks, the sheepishness in his expression—you swallowed.
Once upon a time, you associated all of those things with something like happiness. Your happiness.
Kun fixed you with a pointed look. “If you need to talk.”
You gave a firm nod. “I know where to find you.”
He clicked his tongue, shooting you a finger gun, then shooed you off to finish your work and pack your things. Ten was just around the corner, after all.
EPISODE FOUR: OFF THE RECORD
CHANGMIN liked to think that he became nosy, and that he wasn't born this way. But ever since he overheard that Kun guy asking about Ten wanting to walk you home, he couldn't help but wonder…
He shook his head, brushing his hair out of his eyes and off his forehead, before those same bangs flopped back into their place. He walked back onto the main stage of the performing arts hall to the soundtrack of a hype playlist blasting from the ears of his headphones. As he made his way past groups and individuals doing their own thing, he absentmindedly searched for one person in particular.
Conveniently, he found Ten setting himself up right by Changmin's things. He was shouldering off his black puffer jacket, rolling the material up into a manageable ball to shove into his duffle bag.
"Hey," Changmin greeted, bending down slightly to grab his water bottle.
Ten straightened and flashed him a smile. "Hey."
It wouldn't be awkward would it? Probably not. Just be cool about it, Changmin. He smiled slightly, the dimples in his cheeks disarming his acquaintance. "I didn't know you and Yn were close."
Your name felt so… foreign, yet familiar, on his tongue. It was like tasting déjà vu, like eating a treat from childhood that had been associated with good feelings, but he couldn't decide if it was still as good as he remembered or a trick of his mind.
The mention of your name brought a jolt of energy to Ten's body and Changmin saw the man lean into the conversation. Curious… "Oh? Well, I mean—" he gave a shrug, "—she's really cool. She just seems like a good person to get to know, y'know? Why do you ask?"
Changmin couldn't tell how much he trusted the slight narrowing of Ten's feline eyes. There was no way you hadn't mentioned him to Ten at some point or another. To be honest, he didn't like the feeling of you still lingering in his head if he didn't linger in yours. It meant a myriad of things that he loathed to admit.
He let the feeling slide away, let his mouth tilt upward like his eyes to the spotlights in the ceiling. "Just be…" He shook his head. "Nothing. It's nothing." He flicked his wrist, as he spun his water bottle cap on tight. "You can forget about it."
Ten sent him a look that Changmin pointedly ignored.
Somewhere within the depths of the performing arts center, Changmin could hear the howling laughter of his friend Hyunjae as he most likely bugged his best friend out of her mind, both to her chagrin and her delight. That was another can of worms entirely.
Ten piped up as he settled onto the backstage floor while Changmin mentally went through some of the problem sets he had to review today. "If you don't mind me asking, why are you and Yn on such… uneven ground with each other?"
There it was. Changmin snorted. "Uneven ground? I don't even know if we're on the same ground."
"You're both really friendly people," Ten added, "so it just doesn't make sense to me."
Changmin pursed his lips. He never felt the need to divulge this stuff to anyone but his friends, but he didn't know what Ten already knew. He didn't know what you told him, but based on the fact that Ten wasn't looking at him the same way you did… Changmin scratched the back of his head and leaned his side against the wall to face him. "Something happened a long time ago. I guess we just both hold a grudge well."
Ten huffed a laugh in response. "Remind me never to get on your bad side then," he joked.
— ✶
There was a buzz about the university newspaper room. The Daily had only a handful of crew members onboard, mainly because it was so selective. Over the past few years that you had been apart of the staff, you and a few others had gradually loosened the reputation of the Daily's elitist interview process—there was still some level of intimidation that ensured the publication took on the hard workers and not those simply looking for an extracurricular to put on their resume though.
So when there was talk of a new staff member, everyone knew about it.
You let yourself in the door with a sigh, brushing the hair from your eyes held up with a random, blue claw clip you found on your bathroom sink. The bus had been late this morning because it broke down, but you luckily were able to make it to your lecture on time. You had run over here for a quick meeting that Kim Doyoung had summoned you for, no doubt about the new hire.
"Hey guys," you said as you passed by clusters of desks piled with copyedits and heads buried in monitor screens. The sounds of typing stopped briefly with each head you walked past:
"Yn!"
"Hi Yn!"
"Sup Yn—HEY! I just did my hair this morning!" Mark yelped, hands smoothing down the braids in his hair.
You giggled as you patted his head. "Your hair needs a break, Mark."
As you disappeared around the corner, you heard him shout back, "So do you, but you never hear me complaining!"
You rolled your eyes with an ill-concealed smile. The door to Doyoung's little editor in chief office was right down the hall next to the office for the sponsoring professor. As much as you and the others teased him about getting the "Boss man" office, he always complained to you about being on edge with the professor's office next door. You didn't quite understand since Professor Woo was almost never in his office anyway, but you supposed you could see.
Doyoung's door was open, and the fourth year's head perked up at the sound of your voice and nearing footsteps. He didn't even wait for you to knock or say hi, before beckoning you inside. "Yn, thank god you know how to hustle. Close the door on your way in. Thanks."
Your eyebrows shot up at the terseness in his tone, but didn't question him until you'd closed the door and settled into the chair opposite him. His desk, much like those outside, was covered in a sea of paper, with his laptop being the only land in sight. "What's up? You sound stressed."
He shot you a look over the rims of his thin glasses. "When am I not stressed?"
"Valid."
"Okay," he began with a sigh that made your concern rise just a bit more, "you know the situation with our performing arts review section, right?"
You nodded. "Of course."
The situation with the performing arts review section of the paper was inherently a mess. For a handful of years, the performing arts section was written under a pseudonym (lovingly dubbed Opera Glasses)—the identity of the reviewer was anonymous—which was a product of an incident a few years ago where a performer was unhappy with a review left by someone on the paper and came to ask, very unkindly, for a rewrite. Since then, the paper had been swallowed up by so much that finding a permanent writer or reviewer for the section became less and less of a priority.
When you joined the publishing team, it had been in the middle of freshman year when you were also putting your application out for research projects. Joining had felt like the right thing to do, as much as it was an act of rebellion against your mother and your childhood. They had asked if you knew anything about dance of all things.
And well, you did know.
You'd written one piece—one piece that was entirely you. It had been for one of the dancers just debuting at his first winter showcase. Since then, you couldn't stomach writing another one or watching another one.
You ghost wrote, you edited, you advised—but you stuck to putting your energy into covering the STEM-related sections of the paper now.
So Doyoung already knew your relationship with the performing arts review section. "Well," he cleared his throat, making a vague flourish with his hand, "I'm sure you already know that I just interviewed a new prospective recruit. I was wondering if you would be willing to take them under your wing and to show them the ropes."
Oh. That wasn't exactly what you expected him to say. Your heart kicked up for an entirely new reason, however. You'd always wanted to be someone's mentor. To be someone's older sister. "I mean, yeah. I'd love to," you stammered, a smile slowly curling onto your lips. "That would be really cool."
Doyoung sighed, his shoulders sinking in relief. "Thank you."
"But wait." You cocked your head to the side as you asked, "What does Opera Glasses have to do with this?"
"I want her to eventually take over for it," he explained. "She knows quite a bit about theater and music—little less about dance, though. I know that you have your issues with the dance department, but out of everyone here, you probably understand dance stuff the most. I just ask that you help her out a little with that, and maybe even introduce her to some of the people there so we can ease her in with interviews—"
You opened your mouth to interrupt him, but he sent you a pointed look. He continued, "Just hear me out, okay? If you're uncomfortable at all, you can back out. And you don't even have to back out right now or completely; maybe you could have Mark introduce her to Jungwoo for interviews, and you can just stick to the behind-the-scenes stuff."
Doyoung exhaled. "Okay, so what are your thoughts?"
You worried your bottom lip between your teeth. What did you think… What did you think?
Even the thought of stepping foot into a practice room made the yelling and screams echo in the caverns of your mind. But you'd missed them—missed the polished wood floors, the floor-to-ceiling mirrors, the people. God, you couldn't even stay away from the people if you tried, no matter how much you tried convincing yourself you could.
You weren't fooling anyone.
You swallowed. You'd always wanted to be a big sister.
What was the harm in giving this a try?
(Changmin. You'd probably run into Changmin a lot more often than if you didn't accept. But you could see him from that one night: the sheepishness, the dimples, the laugh. Why couldn't you get over that interaction?)
You mustered up your courage and straightened in your seat. "I'll still do it. When do we start?"
EPISODE FIVE: OFF THE MARK
IT turned out that Doyoung intended for you and your new recruit, Bae Sumin, to get started right away. With the winter showcase only a couple weeks away, it was imperative that the two of you dived right in.
"—so what made you interested in joining the team?" You asked, shoving your hands into your jacket pockets to hide signs of nervousness from your underclassman peer. The two of you were walking from the Daily's newsroom and over to the performing arts center. It was about a ten minute walk, but you figured that it would give you two the opportunity to get to know one another.
Sumin was a multimedia major, as you had been told earlier when the two of you just met for the first time in the entryway of the Daily newsroom. She was cute and well-dressed—she wore a pleated skirt and sweater with a white collar peeking through. Her smile was dazzling, and reminded you of someone who would do well on stage. No wonder she had theater and performing experience.
"Oh!" She shot you one of those dazzling smiles, her hand shooting up to shift the white, fluffy earmuffs seated over her head. "I actually had a cousin who came here and shared with me some of the Daily's earlier issues. She always said it was kind of competitive to get in, but I figured it wouldn't hurt to try."
You bobbed your head. "That's really cool." A small laugh fell from your lips, "I'm glad you did try! Lots of people just assume they're gonna get turned away and they don't try at all, you know?"
Sumin hummed in understanding.
Something had settled nicely in your chest throughout this walk. Even if your past anxieties were beginning to bubble up to the surface at the sight of the nearing performing arts buildings, Sumin's easy conversation calmed you. It was one less thing to worry about.
Yesterday, when Doyoung had proposed this job for you, you had asked Mark to accompany you and Sumin to the arts buildings. He couldn't walk with you two, but he promised to meet you there. Now, you were kind of glad you got to have this bit of bonding time with her.
“I think Doyoung said that I should introduce you to a few people in particular,” you said offhandedly and pulled your phone out to check yours and Doyoung’s text thread.
Sumin did the same, most likely taking out any notes she had taken from Doyoung’s instructions. “Yeah, something like Lee Minho, Kim Jungwoo… the Hwang?—the Hwang siblings, uhm and Ji Changmin…?”
Your footing faltered for a second, and Sumin asked if you were all right, but you recovered quickly. You let out an embarrassed laugh, feeling heat crawl up your neck. Why in the world did his name catch you off guard like that? Maybe it was because you assumed Doyoung would just let you avoid Changmin, but realistically, if Sumin was going to do an interview with the dance department’s most prominent members, then there was no avoiding Changmin.
You just had to suck it up and be an adult about it.
It was three years ago… What was the big deal?
But as you moved to open the door to the backstage area for Sumin with your ID card, you felt your throat tighten in on itself. You forced a smile to your face as you let Sumin go in before you so you could turn your head out to inhale a large lungful of fresh air. Then, you ducked in after her.
The backstage corridors were as hustle n' bustle as you expected them to be. The lights were dim-looking from the black walls and floors marred with scuff marks from years upon years of use. It was an overwhelming tidal wave of sensory details—what, with the clashing sounds of chatter and music, the smell of some kind of polish (or maybe that was resin?), the warmth of energy in the air and all around you.
The hairs on the back of your neck stood like you could sense someone was coming this way.
You gestured down the opposite direction to Sumin. “Come on; I’m pretty sure they’re down this way.”
It was a curious thing, memory. You could recall late nights of catching the bus to these very practice rooms and backstage rooms from when you were in high school. Performing on the stage was a whole other experience in itself, and though part of you missed it, there were other feelings that dominated the hints of nostalgia now.
You could hear the chatter even clearer now, even if their words were muddled.
The door to one of the larger practice rooms were left ajar, and though you only peered in, you felt the warmth hit you like a wave. Your throat was closing up again—breathe—
“Hey,” you said into the room, catching quite a few eyes. From an initial scan, you determined that Changmin wasn’t amongst the crush of people socializing in here, and you couldn’t identify the feeling manifesting in the pit of your stomach.
Jungwoo was the first to bound over toward you, swiftly followed by Minho and Hyunjin, one of the Hwang siblings. “Yn-ie! I can’t believe you actually came. I thought Doyoung was joking.”
A smile made its way onto your lips and you accepted Jungwoo’s side hug. “Yeah, well Doyoung doesn’t joke around.”
“He really doesn’t,” Hyunjin said with a grimace. “He’s kind of scary, that one.”
“If you can survive Minho,” you said to him, “then you can survive Doyoung.”
Minho made a face at you. “What have I ever done to you, Yn?”
Nothing; this is just me trying to pretend I’m not seconds away from quivering like a leaf in the wind. You laughed. “Nothing yet. Guys, I'd like you to meet Sumin. She’s our new recruit at the Daily, and she’s gonna be the one conducting interviews for the winter showcase this year.”
Sumin didn’t need much prompting to smile and wave at your friends in that same charming way. “Hi, nice to meet you!”
The three dancers before you replied in kind. Jungwoo offered to introduce her to some of the others in the room, and before you knew it, she was swept away.
Hyunjin made a comment about needing to go check up on a friend of his, leaving you and Minho chatting to the side of the room.
“Wow,” Minho said offhandedly as the two of you watched Jungwoo and Sumin work their way around the room, “she’s a natural at this. Where’d Kim find this one?”
“She saw some of our older issues,” you replied. You watched as Sumin ignited a sort of brightness in every conversation she started. You struggled to swallow; now that you didn’t feel obligated to keep up appearances, especially in front of Sumin, your jitteriness was beginning to come on just a little stronger. You absentmindedly massaged your throat, willing it to loosen up.
Minho glanced over at you, his eyes catching your anxious actions. “Must have a lot of confidence in her if he’s throwing her straight into taking charge of interviews. How’re you holding up?” The latter was said lowly and under his breath in case someone just happened to be close enough to catch onto your conversation.
Minho didn’t know your history with the dance department as thoroughly as your close friends did, but it didn’t take a genius to see that you weren’t at your absolute best right now. You gave a stiff shrug. “I’m alright,” you managed to say.
He nodded, though it was probably more for your sake than him saying he believed you. “It’s funny,” he drawled, “one might think that by sending you here on behalf of the paper, that you were behind Opera Glasses.”
Now that, you could let out a genuine chuckle at.
Minho gauged your reaction but smiled to himself. He wasn’t one to really care for the drama and gossip side that came privy to the performing arts review section, but you couldn’t blame him if he was curious.
“That would be really stupid if that was the case,” you mused.
“It would be,” he agreed. “Is this a sign that this will be the end of Opera Glasses then? Finally a face to the name?”
You pursed your lips. “Actually, I’m not too sure what Doyoung will end up doing. I’m sure he’ll call for a board meeting to decide what the review’s fate will be, but it’s not exactly our top priority—”
Your voice and words trailed off as your eyes met a pair coming into the practice room. You and Changmin froze at the sight of one another, two deer caught in headlights, and you felt your heart palpitate violently in your chest. Your breath left your lungs—his expression was filled with surprise, until it morphed into something you couldn’t read.
“What are you doing here?” He deadpanned.
Minho’s eyebrows shot up. “You didn’t know Yn was stopping by? We all got the email from Director Lee, man.”
Changmin pressed his mouth together and it made the dimple in his cheek deepen. He looked you up and down, and he opened his mouth to say something else, but paused when you unconsciously brushed your thumb against the hollow of your throat. (Dear god, why couldn’t you breathe? Breathe, breathe, breathe—)
He seemed to lose whatever he was going to say. You swore the sharpness in his gaze softened.
But then his jaw tightened; you didn’t know why. “I didn’t think you’d actually show,” he muttered under his breath.
Ouch.
The words from his mouth pricked uncomfortably at the back of your mind. You found your voice again. “I’ll be gone before you know it,” you replied tersely.
Your response touched a nerve for him, too. He cut his attention to the rest of the practice room. “Where’s your new girl?”
“Over there,” you said, inclining your head across the room where Sumin and Hwang Yeji were currently swapping contact information. Something soared in your chest at the sight, but you couldn’t tell if it was pride or envy.
Without any additional prompting, you watched Changmin make his way toward Sumin and away from you. You didn’t realize you were holding in a breath until you finally exhaled—
“Yn! Sorry I’m late.” Mark bumbled into the practice room, wiping a drop of sweat from his forehead as he quite literally crashed against the wall next to you and Minho. He was panting and gasping for breath, and you and Minho couldn’t help but express your amusement.
“It’s all cool, dude,” you assured while patting his head.
“I should probably get back to it,” Minho said as he began walking away from you and Mark. “Nice to see you, Mark. Feel free to take a water bottle from the green room.”
Mark thumped his head against the wall with his eyes closed. “Thanks, man,” he huffed.
With a snicker under his breath, Minho went his separate way.
You gave Mark a moment to catch a breath or two, and you slid down next to him against the practice room wall. Folding your knees up against your chest, you copied Mark’s position with his head tilted back as you both inhaled through your nostrils and breathed out through slightly parted lips. While Mark might have been trying to get a moment of rest from (no doubt) running here from the bus stop, you were trying to steady yourself.
The anxiety was starting to make your hands feel numb cold.
“You don’t have to stay, y’know,” came Mark’s voice, followed by the back of his hand gently nudging your arm. When your eyes fluttered open, you found him already looking at you. “You asked for my help; you can go take a breather outside and come back in—or maybe don’t—whatever you’re comfortable with. This can’t be easy.”
You were struggling to swallow again. One of your hands drummed messily against your kneecap. “It’s—” you shook your head, “—I’ll be okay. Thanks for coming though.”
“Yeah, dude. Of course.”
Something prodded at the side of your head, like someone was staring at you, but when you turned to see, it was just Changmin talking to Sumin. They were both smiling and making good conversation, it seemed.
You let out a sigh and closed your eyes again. Wishful thinking.
— ✶
Mark stayed behind to “vibe” with the remaining dancers still at the performing arts building while you and Sumin pushed out into the crisp, cool evening. Even after walking all the way to the bus station, your hands were still numb, and the cold definitely wasn’t helping.
“How do you feel about the dance interviews now?” You found yourself asking Sumin as the two of you sat on the bench at the station waiting for the bus to come pick the two of you up.
Sumin beamed. “I definitely feel a bit more secure about conducting them. I’ll definitely need some help with dance terminology and editing and stuff though.”
You nodded. “No problem at all.”
“The people are all really so chill and nice…” Your eyes definitely weren’t tricking you when you saw the bashfulness that her expression took on, and the little giggle you heard could not have been the wind. “Especially Changmin.”
Ha. What.
A weight fell to the pit of your stomach. Maybe you were hearing things… “Sorry?”
She blinked, and the blush on her cheekbones darkened. “Oh, haha, it’s nothing! I just… he was really sweet, and he has a really pretty smile and stuff—do you—uh, do you know if his previous dance showcase performances are online?”
(Something about that detail—he has a really pretty smile—rang a bell for you.)
It was really an innocent question, but you knew if Sumin went searching online for Changmin, and if she went deep enough, she’d find you there, too. You sucked in a breath. “I can—” you winced inwardly, “—send you some of his performances, if you want?”
You couldn’t deny the warm and fuzzy feeling in your chest when Sumin practically lit up at your suggestion. “Would you? I would really appreciate it, Yn! You’re the best.”
From your periphery, you saw the bus approach from down the street, and you gestured for the both of you to stand up and get your ID cards ready to board. You sent her a small smile—at least it felt good to help her out. You could pretend for a second that this was just a little crush or infatuation on some other colleague of yours that Sumin had. “Yeah, no worries.” No worries at all.
EPISODE SIX: OFF THE [TOP OF YOUR] HEAD
FRIDAY night brought you, Seungkwan, and Doyoung to the hotpot place located in the university district. The three of you were the unconventional combination of your friends, but Kun and Ten were supposedly on their way over as of five minutes ago. Thus, with the last of your party nearing, the three of you deigned to begin ordering almost everything off the menu—just to whet your appetites, of course.
Doyoung slumped down in his seat across from you and Seungkwan as soon as the waiter left to input your table's hefty order. "Ugggggggh."
Seungkwan snorted. "Ah, my favorite sound."
Doyoung passed him a dirty look over his lenses. "Is that sarcasm I hear, Boo Seungkwan?"
"I have no idea what you mean," he said with feigned innocence as he looked away and scratched the side of his head.
You chuckled to yourself, drawing your phone out from the inner pocket of your puffer jacket when you heard the series of buzzes. Your screen lit up with notifications from Sumin, all of them thanking you profusely for the spam of links you'd sent her way. These were on top of the videos you had dug up from your secret locked folder in your phone—and here you were, wondering why in the world you were doing this to yourself and for her?
"I can't decide if I dread Doyoung's noises of discontent or your expressions of pain more," Seungkwan commented, effectively pulling your focus away from your phone.
Both of your friends were now looking at you, patiently awaiting your answer to what ailed you tonight. Where should you begin?
"I'm not in pain," you scoffed. You set your phone facedown on the table next to you to avoid looking at the notifications. Huh. "Did I look like I was in pain?"
Doyoung's smile was wide like his eyes as he nodded. "Yup," he chirped in that sweet sarcasm of his. "Like you'd just watched a video of someone stubbing their toe against a doorframe."
Seungkwan blinked. "That's so—specific."
"You do not want to know what my For You Page looks like—"
You recreated the look of pain from earlier, holding your palm up. "Respectfully, Doie? I don't."
Seungkwan let out another snort of delight and had to hold a hand in front of his mouth.
Doyoung leveled a half-hearted scowl at you. "You're lucky I'm not your boss right now."
"As opposed to every other moment in time?"
"You have a mouth on you tonight."
"I do like to use it every so often," you quipped, the corner of your mouth lifting in an amused smirk.
Doyoung sighed, raking a hand through his hair. "I don't get paid enough for this."
"You're literally not getting paid at all—" Your words were sliced off at their end when you gasped—it was all a blur: a mass of reddish-brown hair, your phone snatched from right in front of you— "SEUNGKWAN!"
Seungkwan held his breath with an impish grin as he turned his back to you and shielded your phone from your attempts to get it back. "I just wanna see!" He said with a cackle. "Every time you've looked at your phone today, you looked like you wanted to fall into an abyss."
You glared at him, pulling away to cross your arms firmly over your chest. "You can't just steal my phone, dude!"
"What's so important on your phone anyway, Yn-ie?" Doyoung asked good naturedly, reaching for his glass of ice water. "You're usually not so attached to that thing."
Your lips snapped shut and you wondered if the heat creeping up to your face was obvious.
"You've been sending Changmin videos to Sumin?!" Seungkwan bursted out, his eyes so wide that you could see your reflection in his pupils. As you'd feared, Seungkwan still had his fingerprint registered into your phone from before (long story; don't ask), and had cracked the device open, as well as your most recently opened application—yours and Sumin's text messages.
You did nothing but stare at the table like you were getting war flashbacks, while Doyoung had even gotten up out of his seat to take a peek at your phone, too.
"I haven't even seen this video before," Seungkwan hissed as if you weren't right there.
You fixed them both with a stink eye, but at the same time, maybe this was for your benefit. They could help you without you actually asking for help—
Doyoung's face contorted into a laughable expression of shock (eyes wide, mouth wider, eyebrows pinched, nose wrinkled) as he viewed what Seungkwan had selected. "Oh my god. He's a child in this!"
"Actually he was a senior in high school—" You slapped a hand over your mouth. Whoops.
Both of their heads whipped over toward you. "I thought you deleted all your high school shit!" They chorused together. If it had been any other situation or context, you might have laughed at the hilarity if it all.
Instead, you averted your gaze, making a show of looking for the waiter or maybe even Kun or Ten. What was taking them so long anyway?
"Yn," Seungkwan addressed with a tone akin to that of a parent on the verge of lecturing their child, "what in the name of god are you sending Sumin and why?"
Helpless, you held both your palms up in a sheepish shrug. "The kid has a crush on him, and being the best mentor figure ever, I… did some compiling for her." You paused, "Now that I say it out loud, it does sound pretty stupid."
Doyoung returned to his seat. "Ya think?"
You wrinkled your nose at him. "Hey! Sometimes, some of us have bad nights and we wanna feel something." Out of context, this was a really suspicious conversation.
"Isn't this just you torturing yourself?"
Seungkwan slapped his hand against the table, and both you and Doyoung startled. "That's it! I'm calling for an intervention."
Your mouth parted open. "Right now?"
He deadpanned at you. "No, when Kun and Ten get here—of course, right now!"
You returned his deadpan expression. The adrenaline from all this back and forth was slowly fading, and what you were left with was something that felt like emptiness. So… now they knew.
Doyoung and Seungkwan exchanged looks with another from across the table, but it was the former who spoke first. "Why do you still have videos from back then, Yn-ie? I thought you told us you deleted them all?"
"I mean, we're not trying to be judgmental or anything," Seungkwan added firmly, but not unkindly, "they're your videos and photos, your past and memories, but… based on everything you've already told us before, wouldn't it be best to delete them?"
You didn't like the emptiness. The adrenaline had stripped you of energy and confidence when it faded. "I," you stammered, "I just… I couldn't bring myself to delete them." Your voice was quiet, almost inaudible compared to the liveliness of the hotpot shop around you and your friends. "I mean, how could I? Sometimes, I want to watch them and try to find the courage to say that I'm sorry first."
Yeah, you wanted to feel something. That "something" was actually a lot of things—courage, happiness, nostalgia, anger, melancholy, love, passion, pride. A life and childhood you had lost; who's fault was it but your own? You felt nothing short of pathetic.
Seungkwan frowned deeply, his eyes softening. He leaned forward and drew you into his embrace, his hold warm and comforting. "Oh, Yn. I'm sorry; I shouldn't have pried like that."
You wrapped your arms around him, eyes shuddering closed. "Yeah, you shouldn't have."
He grunted into your shoulder, a noise of defiance and attitude.
Doyoung had a similar expression of sympathy present on his face. You didn't often see something like that from him, but after years of friendship and working together, you'd begun to see a lot more of him. "I'm sorry too, Yn. It probably still hurts, and I know I was probably really insensitive when I asked you to introduce Sumin to the dance department—"
"Hey guys! Sorry we're late."
Everyone jolted at the sight of Kun and Ten arriving at your table. Kun sent Ten a sharp look along with a sharp jab with his elbow for interrupting. Kun shot you an apologetic look. "Sorry, we didn't interrupt anything, did we?"
You shook your head as Seungkwan pulled away. Doyoung and Seungkwan were both looking to you to make the decision of whether or not you would let Kun and Ten in on the prior conversation.
No, you didn't want to put a damper on dinner any longer. "Ah, no worries. We were just… discussing a couple work things. What took you guys so long?"
Luckily, no one (namely Ten) called you out and the two newcomers slid into their respective seats. Dinner would arrive soon, and you could fill your belly with something other than negative thoughts for once.
— ✶
boss bunny: hey, i didn't get a chance to say this earlier, but i'm so sorry for expecting u to introduce sumin to the dance dept
boss bunny: i didn't think at all abt how that might trigger u, and i still want u to know that u can back out whenever u feel uncomfortable. seriously.
your phone: it's okay, doyoung. i get it, i really do. and i promise that it didn't feel like u were forcing me or assuming that i would do it either
your phone: i knew it would probably trigger me like this too, but i kind of really wanted to be someone's mentor yk? it just… called to me ig
your phone: sounds kind of sad lol
boss bunny: nonono! not at all :( i understand that too
boss bunny: i admire ur strength, yn
your phone: DOIE 🥺
boss bunny: …okay love u and all, but let's not use that emoji yeah? T-T
your phone: okay wtv 🤧 now stop texting cuz ten is starting to realize ur not slick at this
boss bunny: AM TOO. >:(
— ✶
"He kept looking at his phone and then at you, like, every five seconds," Ten giggled, his shoulder absentmindedly brushing against yours as the two of you strolled side by side through the numbing cold night. Dinner had concluded just about half an hour ago, and while Kun ferried Doyoung and Seungkwan home, you and Ten decided to head down a few blocks to get milk tea and hang out.
You clapped your hands together in delight, your laughter lighting up the night. “That’s what I’m saying! He just wasn’t subtle about it and he kept arguing with me that he was.” You shook your head, tongue darting out to lick your lips, “It’s okay though. I think Dad Doyoung’s antics are charming.”
Ten grinned. “Dad Doyoung? I think he’s more of an uncle; ‘Dad’ is Kun’s title.”
“Fair enough.”
“Ayo, Ten!”
Both yours and Ten’s heads whipped upward at the sound of his name being called. You didn’t actually recognize the voice, but when you saw the lineup of four young men coming toward you from the opposite end of the street, you didn’t need to recognize it. Because, well, you recognized their faces.
Huh, you had been running into Changmin and his like a lot more often recently.
Heading straight for you was Changmin, Chanhee, Juyeon, and—you thought his name was Kevin. Kevin was the one who had called out to Ten, and he waved excitedly over to your friend. Based on Changmin’s not-so-subtle frown at Kevin, you could assume that this was not expected. Maybe he was going to advocate crossing the whole street to avoid you.
“Oh, hey Kev!” Ten greeted back cheerily, glancing at you beside him. “Do you know Kevin and Juyeon?”
You bobbed your head. “Briefly,” you replied. The two of your groups met in the middle, two blockades in the smack middle of the sidewalk. Impromptu meetups like this always seemed to end up clogging up the sidewalk for some reason.
After a swift greeting, Chanhee was already gesturing to the direction his group had already been headed in. “Hey, I’ll probably run up the street and get us a table. Haknyeonie says the tables fill up fast after eight o’clock.”
Juyeon perked up. “Oh, I’ll come with!”
Chanhee made eye contact with Changmin from across the group, and a silent form of communication passed between them. You watched this happen quietly, standing to the side with your hands tucked into your pockets while Ten and Kevin caught up from the last time they saw each other (apparently, it was a drawing and painting course from last quarter). However, instead of leaving with Chanhee and Juyeon, Changmin lingered with the three of you.
He naturally came to stand semi-close to you since he wasn’t exactly a part of the “drawing and painting” conversation. The frown from earlier had disappeared, though, and you didn’t know if you could call that a win or not.
Perhaps to you, the tension between the two of you was palpable. There were… far too many things up in the air at this moment, and it was nearly impossible for you to figure out just one thing to start with.
Plus, now was no time to get into all of that baggage. You needed to finish that intervention with Doyoung and Seungkwan before you could handle that kind of conversation—at least, that was what you would have preferred.
But for now, you found yourself clearing your throat and sparing him a glance. “Hey.”
Changmin’s eyes darted over to yours in ill-concealed surprise. “Hey.”
And that was that.
Luckily, Ten nor Kevin dragged on their conversation longer than it needed to be, and soon, you and Ten were passing by Kevin and Changmin as both parties went their separate ways. (You were going to pretend that you hadn’t looked back to watch Changmin walk away. Definitely not.)
“All good?” Ten asked, though, his voice was quieter than it had been before.
You could meet his eyes and nod. “Yeah.”
Ten followed up with an idle sort of humming noise, like he was one of those really loud computer fans (what in the world led you to think of that—?), “A few days ago, I kind of asked Changmin what the deal between the two of you was.”
“Oh?” Nervousness bubbled up the column of your throat. “What’d he say?”
He gave a shrug. “Something like a long-standing grudge.”
You let out a laugh that didn’t exactly sound like a laugh. “Well, I guess that’s one way to put it.” Was that how you would put it? In a way, that was what it was, but there was so much more to that, wasn’t there? Did Changmin think so little of what transpired between the two of you or was he just trying to deflect Ten’s interrogation?
The two of you had arrived at the tea shop by now, and Ten opened the door for you. The shop’s insides were warm and bright, and the tables were already filled up with fellow students who decided to hang out with friends on their Friday evening. You and Ten shifted over to the self-order kiosks to the side of the room and continued your conversation in low volumes.
“How would you put it then?” He asked. When you looked over at him, you realized that there was something scarily disarming about his eyes. “No pressure, of course. I mean, you can call me out on being nosy whenever; I figured it wouldn’t hurt to ask.”
You pursed your lips as you turned back to the screen to absentmindedly swipe down the page to find your preferred order. On the inside, you fought for the right words. “Changmin and I were best friends since we were kids,” you started, inputting your preferred level of sugar and ice like clockwork, “and we met through dance.”
Ten nodded to signal he was still listening, and the two of you swapped places so he could input his order.
You cracked your knuckles and rubbed your palms together to generate some kind of heat between them. “I didn’t really like dance at first. It was just one of those things my parents put me in to occupy my time after school and while they were working. But… well, you know how Changmin is with dance—it was and is his livelihood.”
“Even then?”
A nod. “Even then.”
When your orders were paid for, the two of you moved to a quiet corner of the shop to wait for your number to be called from the counter. You leaned your side against the wall next to Ten, your eyes staring blankly at a crack in the floor. “He was actually the reason I grew to love dancing,” you confessed. “As we got older and went into high school, sneaking out to practice together and performing together on stage became as easy as breathing air and as normal as…” You shook your head. “It was just a lot easier I think, back then.”
Ten tilted his chin toward you. “What happened between you two, Yn?”
You swallowed roughly. “In my first year of high school, my parents got divorced. I always suspected it would happen, but my mom kind of changed after that.” Your eyebrows crinkled as you recalled the memories of your early teenage years and tried to grapple with an adequate way to express them aloud. “And, to be fair, the more I danced, the more I didn’t want to focus on school work, but my mom became really hard on me about all that and I started to crack down on that stuff.
“Eventually, she got tired of taking me to dance practices and shows, and she blew up at me about how useless dance was going to be if I was going to become a doctor or something like that.”
Ten heard your number being called and nudged you to follow after him. He handed you your drink, and the two of you pushed back out into the chilly night. You didn’t really know where you were trying to go, but you didn’t really care. You both ended up in one of the small parking lots squeezed between two fast food restaurants, and you sat yourself down on the curb.
You continued, “And so, she would purposely forget to come home in time to take me to competitions and rehearsals. By the time I realized she wasn’t coming, I was already late every time. I would start walking myself there and taking the bus instead. Changmin started noticing that I was slacking, but I…”
“He didn’t know?”
“No.” You didn’t want him to know. Maybe it was your stupid pride that was preventing you from admitting that aloud. Maybe you were ashamed that your mom wasn't as accepting of dance as his parents were. You let out a shuddering breath and watched it come out in a visible puff in front of your face. “She made me grow spiteful toward dance,” you said stiffly. “I would be trying to stretch or practice movement in my bedroom while studying for exams, and she would come in and berate me.”
The yelling echoed in your mind, all too vividly. Your mother never physically hurt you, but there were still scars. “She’d discourage me from rehearsals or signing up for competitions by telling me I was nowhere near good enough, that dancing wasn’t going to put food on the table, and that I was—” A complete disappointment. You could pick those exact words out of a line up.
Ten’s eyes glistened with silver in the amber glow of the streetlight above you. “Jesus, Yn. I’m so sorry; that’s—that’s awful.”
You didn’t know how to accept the sympathy, even after having received so much from your other friends already. No matter how many times you retold your story, it was never quite right or in the way your brain wanted to portray it. You didn’t want to portray anyone as the villain; you figured that maybe you could have done something back then to prevent this. (You couldn’t have, actually, and that was the most difficult part to accept.)
“Yeah,” you murmured, setting your drink on the ground as you curled in on yourself slightly. “Anyway, by senior year, Changmin was obviously really into dance and was probably really stressed about auditions and end-of-the-year competitions. We basically… we basically took out our anger on each other. He said some things, I said some things. The rest is history.”
It was quiet for a moment as you let the words sink into the open air. Your chest loosened a bit after being able to tell another person about it, but for the most part, your hands still trembled. You reached for your drink again to take a sip and to force some kind of liquid down your throat.
After a while, Ten piped up, “Yn… I hope you know that you are not whoever your mother was trying to make you believe you were. You’ve probably realized that already—or maybe you’re still working on it—but please know that you’re probably one of the strongest people I know. It must have been really hard for you and I…” He exhaled, “Sorry, I’ve never been great at this.”
You sent him a small smile in return. “It’s okay; I still appreciate it.” After a beat, you added, “I know I act like I hate him, but I still want to see him succeed. I can’t think that ill of him, especially when he wasn’t the only one at fault.”
“Ah, that’s why ‘it’s complicated’, huh? I get that.”
“Yeah.” Your hands—god, if they could just stop shaking—
Ten reached over and covered your hands with one of his, and you let the heat of his palm warm yours. “You’re doing great, Yn. You know that, right?”
You couldn’t choke out an answer to that. You could only really say, “I just miss him sometimes.”
A sad smile. “I know. Maybe he does, too.”
You wanted to laugh, or maybe cry, at that. Anyone who got in the way of Changmin’s passions was no one to him. You would know exactly how that felt.
EPISODE SEVEN: [ROLLS RIGHT] OFF THE TONGUE
WHENEVER Changmin was feeling unsure of himself, he would retreat to his safe space: the practice rooms. Even if it was some time in the ungodly morning, like 2am as it was now, he would make the trek beneath molten gold streetlights and barren cobbled streets. It was the one place where he could focus his energy solely on dance, and forget about everything else.
Once upon a time, it had been your safe space just as much as it was his.
Changmin huffed a sigh as he hiked up the remaining flight of stone stairs that led up to the backdoor area of the performing arts building. It was a handful of hours since he and Chanhee parted ways with Kevin and Juyeon after enjoying dinner together. Chanhee was probably dead asleep by now—he was probably going to wake up and continue studying for his exams anyway.
As he turned to his right, his breath hitched as he caught sight of someone standing right outside the door. Usually, he had no trouble getting in and security wasn’t exactly strict in this area of campus. In fact, he almost never bumped into anyone, as strange as it sounded. Maybe he should have counted his blessings.
But then he recognized your jacket from earlier this evening, the very same one you were wearing while walking next to Ten—practically squished up against each other, two peas in a pod. He didn’t like how irked he was by that detail. He still couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that you had said “hey” first.
You weren’t looking at him, rather, your body was completely turned toward the door as if you were trying to decide whether or not you should go in. You were as still as a statue, frozen in time.
The moment, however, faded as quickly as it had come. You must have sensed his presence, and your head whipped around to face him.
There.
His heart leapt into his throat—dear god, why did you look so afraid? And then he noticed that you weren’t frozen still, but rather, channeling all your energy into keeping your body from trembling. Were you cold? What were you doing here so late? Why weren’t you with Ten?
He watched your throat move as you gulped. And then you were walking toward him—no, past him—wait, come back— “So that’s it?”
The grip he had on his duffle bag strap tightened when you stopped next to him just as you were going to walk past him toward the stairs. Your gazes clashed like a pair of twin lightning bolts slicing through the night sky. There had always been a sort of energy between the two of you, and when you were young, he had been so very attracted to that kind of power, one so similar to his… he didn’t think he was mistaken back then.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” You said, still there. Your voice was low, but he could detect the edge.
He didn’t know what it was supposed to mean; he just didn’t want you to leave without knowing why you were here. Were you looking for him? “You’re not gonna say anything to me? Why are you here?”
(He swore it wasn’t supposed to come out that brusque-sounding, but he also didn’t know what it was supposed to come out sounding like…? He felt like he didn’t know you anymore.)
There was a narrowing of your eyes, and you both angled your bodies to face one another like a standoff. “No one said I had anything to say to you. And I—” You tripped over your words, “—I don’t know why I’m here. That’s why I was leaving.”
Oh.
Why was he disappointed by that answer?
“So you’re not here with Ten or something?” He asked, unsure what else he could say to keep you here, even for just a couple seconds longer.
Your mouth curled. "Clearly not. Why are you so pressed about me and Ten?"
Changmin pressed his lips together. "I'm not." Okay. Very believable.
The face you made said the same thing. "Okay, yeah. I didn't expect you to care so much anyway."
For a reason he loathed to admit, anger spiked in his blood and he felt the distinct need to defend himself. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
"I don't know," you replied sarcastically, your volume rising, "maybe it's that you've never really cared that much about things that concerned me in the first place?"
"Now that's rich coming from you."
Your glare pierced his. "Oh, please. As soon as I started slacking—god, it took so little for you to just abandon me."
His jaw fell slack. Where the fuck did this conversation just turn to? "Abandon you? You abandoned me!" He exclaimed, finger flicking between the two of you as if he could impale both of your chests with the sharp edge of his accusations.
"How could I have possibly been the one to abandon you?" Your face contorted with so much more emotion than Changmin had ever seen from you over the past three years. Suddenly, he could see the underlying desperation and devastation hidden beneath the lines of bitterness and anger. His heart sank, but his blood still boiled and pumped. He couldn't get the distinctly awful hole in his chest to stop aching. He could remember exactly when you just stopped coming to practice with him. He could remember exactly the day he gave up hope.
"You—" you stammered, your hand flying to your throat. It was the same action he had seen from you just a few days ago while you were in the practice room. He recognized it as a habit of yours for when you were anxious or overwhelmed because your throat closed in on itself. If that wasn't enough to make him want to lay down his sword… "—you stopped caring. When did you stop caring? I just want to know."
Everything went silent for him, just for a split second. You thought… you thought he stopped caring? How could he ever stop caring about you? Wasn't that why he was so upset in the first place?
And when the world zapped back into play, he was sure his skin was ashen. His throat bobbed. "How could you think so little of me?"
Your forehead creased. "Little? Changmin, you were everything to me."
Dear heart—
You were shaking your head and taking a step away from him then. "You couldn't possibly understand."
Just like that, there was fire in his veins again. "That's because you never gave me a chance to understand!"
You threw a look back at him and again, he could read everything there like an open book, so much unlike the wall he had been met with all this time. "And I can say the exact same thing about you. If you think I kept things from you, Ji Changmin—" you said with the undertone of a snarl, so fierce that, as you turned on your foot to face him again, your breath came out like that of a dragon's smoke, "—then how much have you kept from me?"
His nostrils flared and his hands gestured wildly, vaguely—he pressed his palms to his eyes with a haggard sigh. "Why are you here, Yn?" He asked again, finally. He lowered his hands and took a step toward you. "Are you here just to pick a fight with me?"
You paused.
He watched you open your mouth, then close it.
You pursed your lips, finally murmuring, "No. I didn't come here for you."
For some reason, that hurt even more.
— ✶
The practice room was colder than it usually was.
Changmin kept the lights dim for the sake of his stinging eyes, and he dumped his duffle bag in the corner of the room before making a beeline for the aux cord for the speaker system. He hooked up his phone and opened up his music files, his forehead pressing against the cool mirror wall.
For a moment, he simply let his eyes flutter shut and his lungs to breathe.
You were long gone by now, and Changmin considered just going back to his apartment, but he knew he would just lie in bed awake for hours if he did.
When he opened his eyes, he swiped out of his music and instead went to a file kept deep down in the depths of his storage. He had purposely named it so it would remain at the absolute bottom of the list when alphabetized, and the pass code on it was supposed to dissuade him from accessing it.
Supposed to.
He punched in the four digits of your birthday and the lock clicked open to reveal a hefty file of video after video. There were photos of you, too, somewhere, but the videos were all at the top of the file because of their size. He didn't know what he was gonna do when his phone ran out of storage; he figured that when that day came, it would either be when you and he finally figured shit out, or he got closure and could delete them all.
He sighed.
His thumb hovered over one of the video files near the top, one where he could see your face in the thumbnail.
When he opened it, his younger face filled the screen. His tongue poked out from his lips as he carefully settled his phone against the wall next to yours as both of your phones recorded the run-through that was about to happen.
"Changminnie! Come on, I'm starting the song!" Your voice echoed against the practice room walls, and his laughter soon followed as he scurried into place next to you.
Changmin watched his younger self transform his expression into something more serious, while you had looked at him through the mirror and burst out laughing.
Younger Changmin broke his facade, the dimples in his cheeks deep, his smile bright. "What?"
You grinned back at him. "Sorry, sorry! Nothing; it's just interesting how you can just shift your facial expression like that."
"You have to practice like you perform though!"
"I know, I know. I just like your smile better, y'know?"
Changmin could see the hearts in his younger self's eyes. Jesus, had he really blushed that hard? Younger Changmin cupped the back of his neck bashfully. "Really?"
You punched his arm playfully. "Yeah. It's really pretty, Changmin. I thought I told you this before."
"Well yeah, but it doesn't hurt to hear it again—yah! Hey, I can bite back, you know—!"
Changmin's eyes shuddered as the familiar melody of the song flowed into his ears. He abruptly slammed his thumb down onto the pause button.
No, he couldn't stomach hearing it. Not when he could recall every move from memory and not when he had no partner to complement those moves. It just reminded him of the gaping hole in his chest and the emptiness of this room.
"Let's get to work, Changmin," he muttered to himself as he swiped out of the folder and back to his music files. He had an actual to-do list in mind, after all, and it did not include a dive into the forbidden folder. (No matter how much he needed to hear your voice again, for once, not arguing with him.)
EPISODE EIGHT: OFF THE HOOK
"HE'S been pissy all morning—"
Changmin suppressed a groan of frustration as he heard his friend's voices nearing the dressing room he was in. All morning, the performing arts building had been a madhouse, even worse than the night of the draft showcase. Everyone just decided to be here today, whether they were his fellow dancers trying to score a practice room, one of the prospective actors auditioning for a part in Hyunjae's best friend's thesis play, or one of the tech members trying to make sure everything worked behind the scenes.
Changmin had gone from room to room in an attempt to find an empty one where he could have some peace in working on his own. He would have just gone home at this point, but Chanhee was stressing over his own exams, so Changmin was stuck here.
So taking all of that into account, including the rough encounter he'd had with you a couple days ago, plus a lack of sleep and coffee—not the happiest squirrel on campus.
(How could you just drop a bomb like "You were everything to me, Changmin" in his lap and expect him not to think of anything else for days on end?)
The door to the dressing room he was hiding in cracked open, and all of the cacophony from the outside flooded in, as well as a crush of his friends.
"Don't you guys have class?" Changmin moaned, his hand coming up to rub his sleep-deprived eyes.
"Well, yeah, but this is much more fun," came Younghoon's teasing chuckle as he walked over to Changmin and clasped a hand on his shoulder.
Changmin made a face. "I just wanted some peace and quiet."
Sunwoo scoffed. "Peace and quiet? You've come to the wrong place, hyung."
"Yeah," Hyunjae added on, "might as well take a break for once and come watch auditions with us! HJ!Yn needs help judging people anyway."
Changmin cocked a brow at the blond. "You should call Chanhee for that then. Shouldn't you be out there, Younghoon?" He nodded toward the tall, lanky drama major present.
Younghoon shook his head, bouncing on the balls of his feet. How did he have so much energy? "Nope. I'm auditioning for a part, so she's gatekeeping me from watching."
Changmin turned from his friends slightly as he reached down for his phone that he had situated on top of the small bluetooth speaker he had the good sense to bring. Then again, maybe he should have just stuck to earbuds… whatever. He was too tired to care. Part of him wanted to add to the chaos anyway.
"What's her thesis play about again?" He asked no one in particular. Sunwoo waddled over to him and stole his phone right from his hands and began browsing through the music selection.
"It's a modern take of one of Shakespeare's plays: Much Ado About Nothing," answered Younghoon. "It was really funny actually, like the original play. Lots of matchmaking, lots of stupidity. I think they dump someone in a lake..."
Hyunjae perked up. "Oh yeah! That was probably my favorite part of the whole script."
Changmin chuckled. "I was expecting you to say something like 'the whole thing's my favorite because my best friend wrote it'."
"Oh, no, that still applies."
Changmin, Sunwoo, and Younghoon all exchanged knowing looks with one another. Mhm… so they thought. There were a few too many in their friend group who had interesting relationships with their other friends. Exhibit A: whatever the fuck was happening with Hyunjae and his.
Hyunjae caught their silent communication and furrowed his eyebrows. "What?"
Sunwoo snorted, but Younghoon was the one to drawl, "It's absolutely nothing."
Changmin pressed his lips into a cheeky smile, brushing the bangs from out of his vision. Hyunjae's lips quirked to the side in a frown, but didn't make any comment on it. It wasn't a new reaction from the group, by any means, but… oh well. That would be a tale for another time.
With that being said, Changmin followed the three of them out of the relative privacy of the dressing room and out into the hustle-bustle of the main backstage corridor. As soon as that dressing room was vacated, however, somebody was swift to occupy it. Changmin cursed inwardly; guess he wouldn't be able to come back to that room later.
With the switching of theater leadership over the past year (a changing of the guard, if you would, but with professors and sponsors), the management of the entire performing arts department was a mess and a half. There were a few stand-out graduate students and undergraduates who were keeping everything in check for all of the events happening over this year—like Hyunjae’s best friend, Lee Jihoon (a graduate student specializing in sound and music production), and Moon Taeil (a graduate who was a soloist in the chamber choir).
As the four young men made their way closer to the immediate backstage, the sound miraculously dulled down. The lights were a lot dimmer here, as the spotlights were turned toward the main stage. Changmin spotted a few people scattered throughout the backstage area with phones or folded script packets in their hands as they recited their lines to themselves, with some even making exaggerated facial expressions and grand hand gestures.
Hyunjae’s best friend was one of the up and coming director-screenwriter “prodigies” that the drama department championed. She was a year older than Changmin was, and he didn’t need to be a genius to know that there were a crowd of people vying for a role in her graduating thesis play. It must have been stressful as fuck, but he knew that she had a good head on her shoulders—
“—I’m gonna stop you right there.”
HJ!Yn’s voice resounded from the other side of the hefty velvet curtains separating the backstage from the main stage. Hyunjae made a show of pressing his index finger to his lips to signal his friends to be quiet—Sunwoo thus made a show of rolling his eyes (“Duh, we’re gonna be quiet.”). They all huddled to the side of the curtain and poked their heads out to see what was going on.
The university performing arts hall was likely one of the most magnificent places on campus. It featured a vast array of floor seating, while also boasting three levels of balcony seats. Changmin remembered once briefly learning the anatomy of the theater seating: the floor or nosebleeds, the slightly lofted box seats, the grand circle, loge circle, and upper circle—the gods. It was all very antiquarian, but it was a place Changmin had become quite familiar with over the years.
The director herself sat in the dimmed nosebleeds section, in the smack middle. Someone had dragged out one of those plastic, foldable tables for her to set her paperwork and a small, battery-operated lamp on top of.
Curiously, sitting next to her was none other than Bae Sumin, your new recruit.
Changmin straightened, accidentally bumping into Younghoon’s shoulder as he did. “Sorry,” he whispered.
Younghoon shook his head to say that it was all good, his hand lifted in acknowledgement.
“Did you know Sumin was here?” He asked his friend.
Younghoon’s expression was thoughtful. “I think so? I left to go find you when I thought I heard someone say they saw her come in. Why? Did she not tell you when the dance department interviews were gonna be held?”
Changmin recalled receiving no notice. “No. I—I figured Yn would be here, too, then. Right?” Was he ready to face you again so soon? Would you even acknowledge him this time—?
Younghoon passed him an amused glance with a small smile fitted over his face. “That would make sense,” he murmured with his arms crossed over his chest. One of his hands reached up to idly massage his jaw. “I’d imagine she would be with her friends, somewhere around here. Though, it would also make sense that she would be sitting with Sumin, too. Then again—”
“You are… no help,” Changmin deadpanned.
His friend chuckled lowly, eyes upturned into slim crescents.
“Uh Jihoon-ah?”
Changmin and Younghoon’s attention flitted over towards the far side of the backstage and they watched as a girl chased after the resident sound producer graduate student. He was, perhaps, smaller than one might anticipate from the intimidating man, but he still harbored so much scary energy and talent within his body. Like all of the staff on the technical team, the pair were clad in all black.
Jihoon glanced up from his clipboard and at the girl. “Hm?”
The girl nodded toward the curtains. “Director is calling for a break and is asking if the house lights can be turned on.”
“Ah okay, come on then. Follow me.”
As the two of them strode across the length of the backstage, the girl’s eyes found Changmin and Younghoon, and… She was looking past him now at someone else. She lifted her hand in a small wave, paired with a smile, “Hi, Sunwoo.”
Changmin whipped his head around, only to realize that Hyunjae had disappeared, but Sunwoo was now standing on Changmin’s other side. He watched in utter delight as his younger friend flushed, even in the dim lighting, at the girl’s greeting. His eyes were wide as he squeaked out a quick, “Hey!” in return.
When Jihoon and his charge had gone out of view, Changmin turned on Sunwoo with a hyena cackle. “Oh my god! Who was that, Kim Sunwoo?”
Sunwoo seemed to shrink into the collar of his hoodie. “No one.”
Changmin’s laughter lit up the room just as the house lights thunk-thunk-thunk’d to life. Younghoon had slipped away, most likely to meet Hyunjae in the nosebleeds, which left only the two of them there alone. “Do you have a crush on her?”
“Yah! You’re such a menace,” Sunwoo groaned, whacking Changmin with the extra length of his sweater paw. “You can’t even talk, dude! You’re in love with a girl who can barely stand to be in the same room—” Sunwoo realized his slip up and slapped a palm over his mouth.
Ouch. The truth hurt, didn’t it? Changmin chuckled, though it was noticeably quieter now. “Well, you’re not wrong—” He shook his head, eyebrows creased together, “—wait, no. Wait, I’m not in love with her!”
Sunwoo rolled his eyes so hard he must have seen his brain up there. “Oh, please. The last time you were drunk and emotional, you showed us that secret little folder in your phone.” He jabbed his finger accusingly at the phone in Changmin’s hand.
Changmin scowled, pressing his phone to his chest as if to protect it in case Sunwoo decided to have wandering hands. “That was told to you in confidence!”
“No, it was told to me in a drunken stupor—” The two of them began to make their way back toward the edge of the curtain, ducking out from its shadow and onto the main stage. Hyunjae and Younghoon were indeed in the nosebleeds now, but Sumin was nowhere to be seen. Maybe she had only been here to observe the audition process. “And you guys say I’m the lightweight.”
“That’s because you are the lightweight.”
Just as the two of them hopped down from the stage and onto the ground floor of seats, Juyeon came in from the doors located at the back of the seats. He raised a hand in greeting to all present, cheerfully waving with that golden retriever-esque grin. “Hey guys! Oh, Changminnie, I was just looking for you.”
Changmin’s eyebrows flew up. “Oh? What’s up, Juyeon?”
Sunwoo retreated into the rows up where Hyunjae and Younghoon were, while Changmin met up with Juyeon in the rightmost aisle.
Juyeon threw a thumb behind him toward the direction he had just come from. “Sumin was asking if you would be willing to do your interview right now.”
His eyes widened slightly. “Right now?”
“That’s what I just said, wasn’t it?”
Changmin pressed his lips together, before nodding. “Uh, for sure. Yeah, lead the way.”
The two dancers hiked their way back up to the back of the area and through the door Juyeon had originally entered through. The main lobby was much less crowded—it was practically barren, which made it the perfect environment to conduct an interview in. Sumin was setting herself up at one of the couches, setting her laptop, phone, and coffee cup on the coffee table opposite to her.
She raised her head when she heard the door open and close, and a bright smile graced her features. “Oh, you found him! Thanks, Juyeonie.”
“Yeah, no problem,” he chirped. “I’ve got a couple things to handle first, but just ask someone to come find me once you and Changmin are done.”
With Juyeon swiftly taking his leave, Changmin was left to take a seat on the other end of the couch that Sumin was sitting at. “Hey, nice to see you again, Sumin,” he said, crossing one ankle over the other and resting his arm along the back of the couch.
The corners of her smile widened. “Nice to see you, too, Changmin! Sorry this was so sudden; I figured that I could get started on some of the interviews while I was here.”
“Oh, yeah, no worries,” he chuckled.
She reached for her phone, fidgeting as she swiped to a simple recording application. “I hope you don’t mind me recording this…?” At his consent, she nodded. “Okay, cool. I did wanna say something before we started.”
He sat up just a bit. “What is it?”
There was a sort of twinkle in her eyes, and if he wasn’t mistaken, her manner became a lot more bashful all of a sudden. “I have to confess that I asked my mentor, Yn, if she could send me some of your dance performance videos and I’m literally in awe of your talent. Like, I wanted to tell you how starstruck I am just being able to tell you this right now, but I just wanted to say this before we started.”
He broke into a boyish grin at this, his dimples becoming craters of joy in the apples of his cheeks. “Ah, thank you—that really means a lot,” he smiled.
Sumin added on, one of her palms pressing against the couch cushion as she leaned toward him slightly, “I mean, I don’t even know how Yn was able to find videos of you from high school, but I’m so glad she did, because—”
Wait what. Changmin was watching Sumin’s mouth move as she talked but he wasn’t truly hearing what she said. His humble, albeit a bit dumbfounded, smile remained, but her words from just before resonated in his head. There were definitely a few of his dance performance videos online from his high school days, but did you keep links to them? Did you keep the recordings on your phone?
The fact that Sumin asked you meant that she probably had no clue about your past, only that you were the person Sumin could rely on if she had any questions.
What did it mean? What did it mean?
His heart pounded in his chest at the thought that maybe he could possibly have an excuse to get you to talk to him, even if it was one, truly dumbass excuse.
“—ready?”
Changmin snapped out of his dazed state. “Sorry?”
Sumin blushed slightly, clearing her throat. At some point, she had pulled her laptop onto her lap and prepped her phone by placing it in between the two of them to record the following conversation. “Are you ready to start?”
He coughed, straightening and adjusting his position. “Oh, yeah—uh, sorry. Yeah, whenever you’re ready.”
Sumin gauged his reaction carefully, but instead of pressing the record button, she hit the power button. “If I may, you seem a little distracted. I don’t really want this to feel like a burden if you’ve got a lot on your plate.”
Shit. “No, I mean,” he shook his head, “I’m sorry. I guess my mind just wanders really easily when…” He huffed a sigh, dragging a hand down his face. “I’m a little tired, that’s all.”
“I totally get that,” she sympathized. “You’ve probably been practicing non-stop lately for the winter showcase. We don’t have to do this today if you’re not in the right headspace.”
He sighed and couldn’t help but feel just a little relieved. He needed to talk to Chanhee about this, math exam or dance practice be damned. But there was a part of him that definitely felt awful about having to cut off her interview even before it began. He gestured to her phone. “How about we reschedule? We could meet up sometime else during the week to redo this and I promise I’ll be all yours.”
He didn’t know what he did, but the pink on her cheeks deepened to a cherry red. “Oh, uh, sure!” She giggled, taking her phone and passing it over to him. “You can just put your phone number in there and I’ll text you to ask when you wanna meet up.”
Changmin nodded his agreement and swiftly inputted his contact information into the given slots. “Definitely,” he said before handing her phone back to her. The phone fumbled between the two of them, but Changmin was already standing up with the goal to go retrieve his bag (wherever it was), and to go consult Chanhee and the man’s infinitesimal opinions. “Really sorry again, Sumin.”
“Yeah, don’t worry about it!” She dismissed his worries with a flick of her wrist. “Would you mind finding Juyeon, though?”
Changmin sent her a thumb’s up over his shoulder on his way to the door. “Yeah, for sure.”
She returned the gesture, watching as he disappeared out of the main lobby. It was only when he was definitely gone, she covered her mouth with her hand and stared at his saved contact in her phone. Then, with a silent scream of happiness, she ran to her text chain with you to tell you all about it.
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a/n: PLS STILL REBLOG THIS PART EVEN THO ITS NOT THE FULL THING PLS PLS PLS IM BEGGING
read part two here (also linked at top)
permanent taglist: @honeyhuii @crazywittysassy @seomisaho @stopeatread @enhacolor @rnjfy @jaehunnyy @kpopjackie @spiderrenjunfics @soobin-chois @ethereal-engene @mingiholic @ja4hyvn @vatterie @yogurteume @justalildumpling @hyunjaespresent-deobi @hongyangi @pxppxrminty @nerdypastacalzonespy @jcmdoll @kflixnet
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justash02 · 1 year
Text
Womanizer; 04
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A/n; lemme know if you have feedback! It’s always welcome! So are Requests!
Plot; Everyone who knew who Tom Kaulitz was knew that he was girl crazy, he's very well known for having girls around him all the time.
Pairing; Tom Kaulitz x fem reader.
Previous chapter -> next chapter.
Master list
Taglist<3
*^*^*
"Oh I love it and I hate it at the same time, you and I drank the poison from the same wine"
*^*^*
"Breaking news! Trouble in debut world! Lead singer Y/n L/n slaps leader Adam Smith after not getting the best rookie album award!"
"Want to explain this?" Ray, our manager asked, "This is you guys 6 week as a band and you guys already fighting?" Ray said looking me in the eyes.
Adam sat next me, he kept shifting in the chair he was sitting in avoiding Ray. "It's her fault, Ray." He mumbled.
Ray looked over at me as if to ask if he's telling the truth making me shake my head, "What happened." I wanted to open my mouth before Ray continued; "Every detail and calm please." I nodded.
"We were placed at the same table as Tokio Hotel, Tom Kaulitz was just making some flirty comments-"
"He was trying to fuck you."
"Let's Y/n speak."
A mhpm was heard next to me indicating that the boy next to me wasn't happy with the way this was going.
"As I was saying he was being himself, which he is known for." I said dramatically turning to Adam, "and I just brushed it off but this Clown here said I was just trying to fuck my way up."
"Ugh Adam, what's wrong with you." Ray groaned as I finished the story, "Tom is pretty known for having intercourse with almost all girls he meets, Y/n is attractive, what did you expect?"
"that doesn't make it right!" Adam suddenly yelled making me jump, "Y/n is not only your lead singer but also a human, stop treating her like she can't decide for herself. If she wants to have sex with Mr. kaulitz that so be it."
Wow, feminist Ray? I love this Ray.
"I'm just trying to protect my best friend." Said as he started to rub the back of his neck, he looked over at me with those puppy eyes I've grown to feel safe around.
"I'm sorry, Y/n. I shouldn't have said that to you." He apologized grabbing my hand in his gently rubbing the back with his thumb.
"I forgive you, but don't you ever do that shit again." He nodded and smiled at me, suddenly feeling a sense of relieve coming from him.
*^*^*
Soon the day of the shooting had come and Bill was sitting with me in my trailer, Anne was already busy doing my makeup while Bill was being Bill in the background.
"Before I forgot to tell you this, Toms gonna be here soon." My eyes widened as I stared at the black haired boy.
"Why?" I panicked making him laugh, "He's probably fucking some girl here, he told me he had business here." He said mindlessly while flipping through a magazine.
Oh ok so there's basically nothing to worry about. Right?
"We're going for a red wet look ok?" Anne asked me as she was putting a bright red lip tint on my lips. I hummed and smiled slightly as she told me smack my lips together to get it to go evenly.
"You're ready." Anne said as she stepped away letting me see my look,  she made my hair look wet by using gel, my lips were a bright red and so was the wing like eyeshadow. All around my face were small red gems glued to my face making me gasp.
"You out did yourself yet again Anne!" I giggled as I stood there in awe looking at my look.
I could feel Bill's eyes burn the back of my head as he was observing me. He had a small smile on his face as he stood up.
He turned me around and wrapped his arms around me, "You look gorgeous." I couldn't help but feel like my cheeks were on fire.
"Thank you, Bill." He nodded and patted my head, "Good luck."
*^*^*
"There's something missing." The director said, "We need something spicier." She spoke again.
We had done a few takes now for other songs and this one was one of the last songs we needed to do and the director wanted it to be perfect.
"Is there any man that would like to do a scene with Y/n?" My eyes widened as I looked over at Adam, silently telling him to do something.
"Uh ma'am can't we think of something else." The woman shook her head as she She had already made up her mind.
"You!" I followed her finger and saw- TOM? No. No. I WILL NOT.
"You look perfect for what I have in mind!" Tom was looking rough to say the least. His dreads looked like a mess, his pants was half pass his hips telling me he was in a rush to putting them back on.
Ah he did have some business here.
"Me? I'm not an actor." He tried to say but the director already pushed him over to me making him trip halfway to me.
I quickly grabbed his arm keeping him steady, he nodded out of appreciation and stood next to me.
"I don't think I have to ask if you're sexually active, sir?" He just smirked and played with the band of his pants. Fuck did he look good post nut.
"I am, ma'am. Wanna get in line?" She smirked at him before handing him her card with her number. When I tell you my jaw dropped when he winked at her and put the card in his pocket Im not joking.
"Well this pretty young lady is a virgin."
"Hey I've never said that!" I yelled out embarrassed, I could hear Bill laughing in the background.
"You didn't have to baby, it's obvious." Wow ok. Bitch.
"It's ok baby, he'll take good care of you."
"What the fuck, are we actually making porn?!" I heard Ben yell from the back as I heard Clair laugh her ass off.
Assholes. All of them. 
"What's your name darling?" She asked Tom, "Tom Kaulitz." She smirked.
"Well Tom, I need you guys to pretend to actually be sexually attracted to each other." She explained.
"Wouldn't be too hard for Y/n!" Ben yelled, which led to a loud "OW" from him a second later.
"You guys haven't had sex yet, the sexual tension is getting higher and higher. You guys need each other, you can't live without each other. You need that deeper connection. Tom's a fuck boy and you're that sweet innocent girl."
395 notes · View notes
genericpuff · 3 months
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Do you know "Eggnoid"? It's a rather old webtoon about a girl being put into circumstances on taking care of a robot guy who hatched from an egg (hence the title) the robot guy appears to be a grown man, but he has mental capabilities of a toddler and even acts like one. So, it's like those types of "born sexy yesterday" tropes but the gender reversed. The girl also repeatedly shown crushing over the robot guy and at some point, she called him her boyfriend despite she's supposed to be his caretaker.
I haven't read it, but I can definitely attest that there's a double standard when it comes to gender roles and age gaps / situations of grooming / etc. in literature but especially in webtoons. And by that I mean I've legit seen people hold comics like Lore Olympus accountable for their gross dynamics between a young teenage girl and the much older and richer love interest, but then turn around and say it's "couple goals" for a teenage boy to hook up with a much older woman. At the end of the day there's still a power imbalance due to the age gap and the massive differences in life experiences between the two, gender doesn't really change that.
Big ole' sip of hot tea as a take, but speaking as an AFAB, a lot of women are just as capable of grooming and taking advantage of younger men in the same way as men towards young women, it's just that on the surface people tend to get skittish about addressing that because they don't want to sound like they're going "yeah well actually women though-" and dismissing the notion of toxic masculinity. Which yes, that's a fair thing to worry about, some people do use that as a way to dismiss the arguments made regarding patterns of grooming behavior in men towards young girls (among many other problems in which men and toxic masculinity are held accountable), but like any topic of this nature, it's not always a cut and dry black and white thing. Toxic masculinity and the grooming of teenage girls by adult men is a very real problem! But just like how we can understand the nuance that being a man by default doesn't immediately make you a predator, we should be able to understand the nuance that being a woman doesn't give you a free pass to do the same things we call out men for doing without consequences. It's like the double standard in LO that it's okay for Persephone to do the same things - if not worse - than what Leuce and Minthe and Thetis do, because she's the main character and she's not some scummy "mud-sucking" lower class person, she's rich and a Queen and she's wearing a giant hat so it makes it okay /s
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Unfortunately the saying of "I support women's rights and women's wrongs" is being used in a completely tone deaf "literally excusing the main character of her crimes and wrongdoings against others because she happens to be a woman" kind of way, while missing the real point of the saying - supporting women's wrongs doesn't mean you celebrate their abuse towards others, it just means women shouldn't automatically be viewed as irredeemable "crazy bitches" for making mistakes like any other human does, and like any other human, they should be given the opportunity to grow and heal and learn from their wrongs.
When it comes to Persephone specifically, it can't even be chalked up to a "one time mistake" anymore, she's literally been showing patterns of abusive behavior for years now and refusing to take accountability, and now even Rachel is meme'ing on it knowing fully well it's what people are calling Persephone out for in the critical spaces. That's not "supporting women's wrongs", that's enabling the wrongs of a person because they happen to be a woman, and that's not okay. Persephone isn't a "girl boss", she's a bully.
I think the double standard in these age gap romances also speaks to the idolization and fixation on women as being nothing more than conquests for men as well. People who romanticize age gaps between a young woman and an older man think, "Wow, that woman is so mature for her age, enough that an older richer man would choose HER to be his wife! So romantic!" when in reality those who know those dynamics are unhealthy and toxic recognize it as an older man taking advantage of a young woman who's being love-bombed into believing she's "mature for her age" so that she'll sleep with him. Meanwhile, on the other side of it, those who romanticize young men getting with older women tend to come at it from the angle of "well she's so old and washed up, no man could ever love her, her chance for love and a happily ever after is gone now! it's so wonderful of that young man to give that sad and lonely old woman love and attention!" and yet fail to see it from the same perspective of an older person manipulating a young person with zero life experience, because there's still this deeply-rooted ideology that women are "used up" by age 30 and any man who gives her attention beyond that age range is a hero. Completely neglecting the fact that relationships aren't off the table at all for older single people and they don't need to involve robbing the cradle.
I blame the lack of older couple representation in media tbh, so many mainstream romance stories are basically just this:
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To pull it out of the perspective of LO and webtoons for a second (sorry, I'm going on a hell of a tangent here), remember how gross it was when it was revealed in Fifty Shades Darker that Christian had been introduced to the concept of BDSM at age 15 through one of his mom's friends (i.e. an older woman!) who Anastasia calls "Mrs. Robinson"? And they had that relationship until he was 21? And they never really did anything about that, it was pretty much just there to explain why Christian was fucked up but he still got married to Anastasia, an innocent woman who he was repeating the cycle of abuse with, and lived happily ever after anyways?
Yeah. That was pretty fucked up.
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