#and hoot ofc

[hootyhoowoo]

Perhaps....Shen Qingqiu as a worm? (Binghe still loves him + has built him an area to keep him safe)

[dootznbootz]

I love the old neighbor lady so much but every time I hang out with her, I learn fucked up lore about her family

[ghostofhallownest]

“What happened to the other Guards? To our family?! …It wasn’t wild magic, was it?”

—

[rolls up late to the fandom with starbucks trauma] 😎

[causticsunshine]

.

[mossy-tendencies]

SLIGHTLY BELATED GIFT FOR @bellaleafdrawz OF MAIMS TMA OC AND SASHA JAMES!!!

i finished it On Time but i had sleepy boy disease so i couldn't post it.

my friend's oc is frances walker!! she/her for both these girlies, with walker bein' an end avatar that sings you all nice and sweet 'til you're dead <3

trans rights btw. lyrics and background inspo are from "slumber party" by ashnikko which. well i'll let you look at the lyrics yourself.

[owlyspirit]

btw just as proof towards pep's nepotism to me and why i keep hanging out with her

she was the 2nd note so 💖💖💖💖💖💖💞💞💞I love you so my Peppsta you are the star of my life 💙💙💙

[lacnunga]

SHE!!! 🇮🇩

[thequietabsolute]

‘I wanna know where exactly it says that he didn’t have a wank in the Turkish baths.’

— me, to myself, in a voice recording of Philip F. Herring’s essay i made years ago on the ‘Lotuseaters’ episode of Ulysses

🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🛁🇮🇪 🔊

:: the scene in Ulysses:

[reminiscingtonight]

Takedown

Georgia Stanway x Earps!Reader

Word count: 784

A/N: inspired by that video ofc

[WOSO Masterlist]

You’re hard at work when Alessia slides up next to you.

Usually you do a good job at separating your education and your football career, but a last minute assignment means you’re doing your best to craft a ten page research paper in whatever free time you can scrounge up at camp.

“Did you hear?”

Face buried in your laptop, you don’t even spare her a glance. “Hear about what?”

You’re so focused you almost miss her next words.

“Georgia’s trying to wrestle your sister!”

It’s almost comical how quick your fingers come to a stop.

You look over the screen, noting the half exasperated, half amused face on the striker.

“What do you mean Georgia’s trying to wrestle Mary?”

The last thing you expect is to push through a crowd when Alessia leads you to the gym. The girls are all gathered around, hooting and hollering. And at the center of it all is Mary and Georgia.

The two of them are circling each other, Georgia’s eyes drawn and focused while Mary’s got her signature smirk splattered all over her face.

You don’t even have a minute to register everything or react properly before Georgia’s suddenly charging forward with a short yell. A gasp leaves your lips at the effortless way Mary grabs at Georgia’s hips and flips her over on her back with a light thump.

Though usually stoic and the poster girl for doing everything by the book, Leah’s right there to quickly drop to the ground, exaggeratedly slapping her hand on the ground. “One, two, three! That’s another win for Mearps!”

Mary pops up with a holler, grinning like a maniac as Leah parades her around as the champion.

With a huff you finally push your way through the crowd straight to where your girlfriend is sitting up looking worse to wear.

“Are you crazy?” you hiss, helping her to her feet.

Georgia blushes when she realizes you caught the whole takedown.

“Look, we were just--”

“G, she could’ve killed you!”

Georgia frowns. “I know. But I was being careful. All I was trying to do was pin her down.”

You sigh. You love the whole bro-ship your girlfriend has going on with your sister, but sometimes it’s like you’re mothering two teenage boys with no sense of self-preservation. “Georgia, my sister has a black belt in judo. She’d choke you out before you could ever pin her down.”

“I know.”

She says it with so much conviction you falter for a second, lost for words.

“You... you know?”

Georgia, ever the charmer she is, puffs out her chest at her best attempt to look threatening. “Mary may be a black belt in judo, but I’m a black belt in taking down big headed keepers.”

You can almost sense Mary’s presence behind you before you can even hear her. An ironclad hand clamps down on your shoulder, breath so close to your ear that it tickles.

“I’d like to see you try, shortstack. All you’ve done so far is feed that massive head of mine.”

Georgia gasps in outrage, another sharp retort on her tongue when she catches the glare on your face. She shrinks, meekly scratching at the back of her head instead

Mary snickers, jerking back suddenly when you whip around to focus your glare on her.

“Mary Alexandra, you’re thirty-one. Act like it!”

Though she’s six years your senior, sometimes you feel more like the older one between you two. Especially in times like these when Mary gives you all the reasons to scold her like a misbehaving child.

“And you, Williamson! Don’t think I didn’t see you egging everyone on!”

Leah’s in the middle of trying to slip out with the dispersing crowd when your sharp words stop her in her tracks.

Your captain turns around, giving you a sheepish smile. “Eh, sorry?”

“You’re going to be,” you grumble, thinking of the paper that you’re no doubt losing motivation to write the longer you’re trying to wrangle everyone down.

It’s times like this that you wish you hadn’t accepted Sarina’s call-up to camp. It’s already hard enough to babysit your girlfriend and her friends whenever you meet up for a mini vacation throughout the football season and sometimes after, but having to do it at camp too is a bit exhausting. Usually Keira’s here to help too but--

You narrow your eyes at the three suspiciously angelic faces batting their eyelashes at you.

“Where’s Keira?”

When you slam open your shared hotel room door minutes later, Keira shrieks, nearly knocking over what looks suspiciously like a makeshift wrestling ring in the middle of the room.

Keira blinks, eyes wide. “Uh, this isn’t what it looks like.”

[yukichosodrink]

What pleasure is

Pairings: Daddy's friend!Toji x reader

C/W: jealous toji, reader is a kinda a brat?, rich reader, car sex, older toji, reader is aged up ofc, public sex, marking?? riding, multiple orgasms, cryin, cig burning

A/N: guys its been so so long since i wrote but i honestly dont have any ideas PLS PLS give me some ideas pls drop some ideas.

You've gotten used to seeing Toji, your daddy's friend everyday. He was visiting during the summer. His muscular figure sprawled out on the couch, watching TV giving you casual greetings and pet names. You've grown to like those fleeting glances he gave you, knowing well that you were doing the same.

You made my way over to your daddy, who was dressed in his sweatpants, lazily sitting on the couch watching TV with Toji. "Daddy." You said carefully, sitting down.

"Honey." your dad smiles, ruffling your hair. "How are you?" he asked, his green eyes on the tv.

Toji glances over at you for a moment, before he continues to watch the tv, a cigarette behind his lips. "There's this..party tonight and all my friends are going." You started.

"What kind of party?" your daddy furrowed his brows. Toji was silent, watching the tv as he took one long, slow drag of the cigarette between his lips, before exhaling, letting the smoke out.

"Uhm, you know average college parties? I was thinking if I could go too-" You said hoping to convince him but he cut you off.

Your dad's gaze was firm. "Absolutely not." he said with a scoff. "No way in hell." Toji's gaze remains the same, his eyes still glued to the tv. "Why not? I'm an adult- Toji say something" You said looking over at Toji helplessly, hoping he would help you out.

Toji's gaze flicks to you when he hears you say 'say something', and he gives a faint smirk and a chuckle, before shaking his head.

"He's right, doll." Toji says gently, his smirk still on his lips as his eyes go back to the tv. "You're not going, and that's final."

"Why not?" you whined looking at daddy.

Your dad glared at you. "You're too young for drinking, and there's gonna be drugs, and alcohol, and men." he scowled, shaking his head. "They're gonna take advantage of a girl who's so easy to handle like you."

Toji let out a chuckle from the side, putting the cigarette between his lips. You groan and make your way upstairs, mentally deciding that if they won't let you go, you would sneak out. You go upstairs, and your dad's eyes follow you around before he let out a deep exhale, running his hand through his hair. Toji glanced back at you as you walked upstairs, before looking back at the tv, exhaling another long drag of his cig.

-----

At 10 pm, you sneaked out in your mini black dress through the window, sitting in your friend's car while they all cheered and hooted, expressing their excitement and blasting songs in the car. As soon as you reach, Your friends grabbed you and they all went to the dance floor, dancing to the music.

The lights were dimmed in the building, the music was blaring, and people were either chatting and dancing or drinking with each other. A male friend of yours grasped both of your hands into his, moving his hands up to your hips to grasp them. He grinned down at you, the drinks kicking in as he looked down at you, spinning you infront of him.

Your other friends were giggling and clapping, smiling. The song changed into a slow, sensual song, and your friend took that as an opportunity to hold you close, his hands on your hips as he moved his hips to the music. His mouth pressed against yours as he kissed into your mouth, his body pressing up against you. One hand remained on your hip, while his other had rested on the small of your back, keeping you close.

"I-I think we should stop.." You slurred out, trying to free yourself from his grasp.

"But we only just started." he grinned, and he tried to close the gap between your lips and his again. But before it was even possible, you felt a cold, strong, firm hand grasp the back of.

"I think she said back off." Toji's voice was heard behind you, and the sound of it sent chills down your own spine as your eyes widened. "T-Toji?" you said turning back face to face with the man.

Toji's cold gaze was cold as ice as he stared down at your friend, his gaze burning into your friend's eyes. Your friend gulps as he stares up at Toji, his face pale, and he slowly takes a step back from you as he stares at Toji.

"How did you- how did you find out?" you said as soon as your friend was gone, a wave of fear rushing in your body.

"You thought you could fool me, doll?" Toji's eyes flicked back and forth, his gaze burning into yours. "I noticed you sneaking out of the house. You think I'm that stupid that I wouldn't have noticed that?"

Toji grasped your wrist, dragging you out of the party and towards his car as he pushed you into the passenger seat, shutting the car door. As he got into the driver's side, he slammed the car door and put the car in drive, before driving off into the night. He drove without a word, his knuckles white from how tight he was gripping the steering wheel.

"What were you thinking, doll?" Toji's voice was rough and stern, his grip on the steering wheel tightening, his jaw tightening as he spoke.

The car came to a stop at a red light, and Toji glanced over at you for a moment. "Going to a party by yourself in that tiny dress, what did you expect to happen?"

You looked down in your lap. "i didn't knew he would- i mean.." you said, your lips swollen from all the kissing.

Toji grit his teeth at the sight of your lips, before he looked forward again as the light turned green, and he continued to drive.

"Of course he would. Every man would." he said, his voice growing more and more cold and rough with each word he spoke. "You think those college boys would know how to treat you the right way?" He scoffed, shaking his head. "They won't even know how to make you finish."

you looked down at your lap, a bit ashamed because you knew that was right, they didn't know how to please a woman, all they care about is finishing themselves.

Toji's eyes flicked to yours again for a moment, noting the blush on your cheeks, before he continued to speak. "They won't know how to hold you, or how to kiss you, or how to touch you." he shook his head, scoffing again.

"And you do? you know how to please a woman?" You said testing your luck, the alcohol must make you really brave to say such a thing.

Toji's eyes darkened slightly at your words, and a smirk slowly formed on his lips as he glanced to you. "Oh, I know how to drive a woman wild, doll." His tone was suggestive and rough, as if daring you to challenge him.

"oh really?" you said, your voice coming out more seductive than you meant for it to be.

A suggestive chuckle escaped his lips as he glanced at you, his smirk widening. "Doll, the things I'd do to you would make you scream my name over and over again, until your voice gives out."

"prove it then."

A cocky, teasing smirk tugged at Toji's lips as he let out a chuckle in response to your challenge. He turns the car sharply, stopping it in an empty parking lot.

"Oh, doll. You want a preview?" he raised his eyebrow, before glancing over at your legs. "Unbuckle your seat belt."

You hesitated looking around "i-in public?" you didn't know Toji was serious, after all you were joking.

His words were firm and commanding as he spoke, his eyes flicking to yours and giving you a firm stare.

"I said, unbuckle your seatbelt." he repeated himself, his voice going a little rougher this time. Your heart beat a little faster in your chest in response to his commanding tone, and you found yourself hesitating for a moment. But when you looked into his eyes, you saw the dark desire in them as he spoke, and something about it made you feel almost compelled to listen to him.

Slowly, you reached down to unbuckle your seat belt, your breath hitching in your throat as you did so. "Good girl." he grinned, his words sending a shiver through your spine. "Lean your seat back." he commanded, his voice rough and firm as he gave the order.

"Look at you, waiting for your next Command like a good girl." he smirked as he spoke, his eyes darkening as he glanced over at you. "You're such a good girl, aren't you, doll?"

His fingers reached your thigh, slowing crawling up to your underwear, he touched the lacy material chuckling to himself,"Is that a thong?"

You looked away in embarrassment as you heard him chuckling darkly. "If you were that desperate, you could've just came to me, you know?" With one swift motion, he took off your thong, throwing it in the backseat of the car.

"Now, let me show you what pleasure is." He said as he dived his face right into your cunt, biting into your thigh, hard enough to draw blood. His tongue starts working at your clit, lapping up the juices. You cried out, your hands on his hair pulling at the locks.

"Tooooji" You cried out, tears forming in your eyes. His both gripped your thighs, nails digging into the flesh as he devoured your pussy. He looked up at you, making eye contact his eyes lidded with lust and passion. His hands reached for his pockets, and he pulled out his pack of cigarettes, pulling out on cig.

His hands reached for the lighter, kept in his car lighting the cigarette, and he took a puff, blowing the smoke into the car.

"W-what are you doing?" you said, leaning up watching him draw the burnt cigarette closer to your pussy.

"Hm? What's wrong?" Toji coos as he looks at you, while smirking. "'m gonna mark this pussy, make it mine." He said, putting the half burnt cig on your skin, the contact making you flinch at first, rolling back your eyes.

"There." Toji coos,"You're mine now, doll." He slaps your thigh harshly, leaving a red mark.

"Ride me like a good girl now, hm?" He said as he positioned you on his lap, pulling down his pants, his huge, no. giant cock, leaking red red with precum leaking out of the tip.

"I-It's too big- I don't think it will fit-" you cried out, seeing his cock. He chuckles mockingly,"Aw, what's wrong, doll? Never seen a cock this big? Them college boys don't have it?"

"You're gonna make it fit." He said, sliding you down on his cock as your cried out lewdly, moaning his name. You feel full, so full. You feel it in your abdomen, his hand gripping your waist.

"Take this dress off." Toji said half annoyed, as his hands pull the hem of your dress over his shoulders, leaving you in your bra. His hands work on your bra, he opens the hook with just one hand, freeing your breasts. Toji grabs your breasts roughly, his rough, calloused hands on your breasts squeezing and pulling at them.

He spits on your breasts, kneading the skins with his hands. You cry out in pleasure, and he begins moving, slapping his hips against yours. His hands are on your hips, helping you bounce on his cock.

"A-AH im gonna-" you cry out, gripping his shirt. Noticing that you're fully naked while he still has his shirt on. He chuckles mockingly,"Already cumming?" He said, gripping your hips harshly, as you bounced up and down on his cock, your breasts bouncing, mascara running down your face and lips swollen.

He grabs you by the neck, angling it and smashing his lips against your, his tongue working its way into your mouth and you taste yourself, as you moan into his mouth.

"Fuck, you're so tight" Toji groans, into your mouth. "Gonna mould this pussy, I'll ruin you for any other man." Toji squeezes your neck, not too painfully though.

You clench your pussy, cumming on his cock. He slaps your thigh harshly again,"Come on, give me another one- fuck." you cry as your breasts bounce, almost hurting.

"Who's cunt is this, baby?" Toji groans, his cock drawing inside and out of you again and again, a creamy base forming on the base of his cock. I clench again,"I asked you a question, you like it when I talk to you dirty?" He snaps his hips into yours.

"Y-yours! Only yours!" you moan out, gripping his shoulders, tears streaming down your face.

"M-hm, cum on my cock again, doll." He groans and you clench down on his cock, he paints your walls white as he cums inside you, filling you up completely. He snaps his hips breath heavily.

The car is filled with sweat, and heaving breathing. You feel weak, gripping his shoulders, falling back on the seat.

"That's what pleasure is." Toji said breathing heavily, pulling up his pants. His hands on the steering wheel.

"It's getting late, let's go home." He said as he throws your dress at you and chuckles,"You okay, doll?" He teased as you breathed heavily.

"- Im okay- fuck that was so good." You said as you pull the dress down on your body. You sit on the seat, adjusting it and buckling the seatbelt.

"You look fucked." Toji chuckles, as he starts the car pulling it out of the driveway. Your cheeks redden as you look at Toji shyly, the alcohol wearing off. "Your daddy is waiting at home. So, don't make it obvious."

was it okay yall?

[sungbeam]

𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 — part one

nonidol!ji changmin x f!reader

messing around with demonic rituals isn't exactly how you imagined getting bound to changmin's soul. (note to self: salt circles don't work when you draw the pentagram inside it...)

▷ genre, warnings. f2l, technically a college au, demon au (it's different from night terrors i swear. also it's not as intense lol), comedy, suspense/mystery, swearing (a lot... sorry 😭), drinking, low fantasy/supernatural elements, mentions of chronic illness, mentions of rituals and pentagrams, self induced soulmates? 🤔 but ofc 😂, kissing, mentions of blood, very small amount of violence (like one scene), what is a mfking slow burn like who needs to take their time w falling in love i sure don't 🤷🏻‍♂️, one allusion to death

▷ part word count. 16.3k out of 34.8k / read part two here

▷ inspired by. incantations (composed by richard meyer) it's not like,,, the fic's "soundtrack" or anything. i just think it sounds cool lol

this is my submission for deoboyznet's boyz who bite event! HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!!

a/n: i'm telling u that i resisted the idea of another demon changmin au for ONE WHOLE MONTH. i went through THREE OTHER IDEAS BEFORE FALLING BACK ON THIS DRAFT. I SWEAR. so pls reblog + comment + enjoy! :') and thank u to @justalildumpling as usual for reading this for me 😭💖

PART I: THE CATALYST

THERE WERE WORSE WAYS TO GO OUT, you supposed. However, the paranormal wasn't often a subject you frequented, so sitting atop an ashy-white pentagram wasn't exactly how you expected to be spending a Friday night.

“Changmin, you're always hooting about this shit,” Juyeon said as he peered over his shoulder at the boy lurking in the far corner of the living room. “Are you seriously all bark and no bite?”

No one really paid attention to Changmin's response besides you and Juyeon (kind of—he was busy lighting the candles). Technically, it was a new behavior; Changmin was usually the one obsessed with horror movies and the paranormal, constantly getting you all to participate in Halloween horror nights and haunted houses, and bringing his beloved (cursed) Chucky doll to any and every group movie night. But now that you were finally acting on his demonic big talk, all of that stuff and nonsense dissipated like the snuffing out of a candle.

A shadow fell across his face. “I already warned you guys. This isn't something you should be toying around with.”

“It's a Ouija board—what could go wrong?” Shuhua wrinkled her nose as she began tapping out a circle of salt around your body and the pentagram on the floor. “I saw them on sale at Toys R Us for half off.”

Because you were the last one to arrive tonight, you were chosen as the sacrifice. It wasn't really fair because this was literally Juyeon and Changmin's apartment, but it didn't matter much in the end. You didn't believe in this stuff and it wasn't your salt being wasted. (You were also exempt from venmoing Hyunjae a portion of the paycheck he spent buying candles and chalk. Save fifteen bucks and sit on a pentagram in a salt circle? Why the fuck not.)

“Don't we need to draw blood or something?” you asked, half joking.

“No.” Changmin's expression somehow grew even darker. Your eyes widened slightly; you'd never seen him so serious. “Absolutely not. Do you want this to turn out worse?”

“Changmin, dude, you gotta chill, man.” Hyunjae dumped the Ouija board he'd dug out of his parents’ attic onto the floor next to you, just outside the salt circle.

Shuahua squawked. “Oy! You're ruining my perfect circle!”

“Just redo it, dumbass!”

“You redo it, asshat,” she growled back, tapping out some salt to finish it.

Juyeon, as if to placate your friend, said to Changmin, “The salt will protect her.”

You blinked. “Oh, that's what it's for?” You could've sworn that was what the candles were for, but again, you didn't believe in this, so why would you know a thing about it?

Changmin's face hit the palms of his hands with a resounding slap. “Absolutely not. You can't have Yn in the circle if she doesn't even know what the Hell is going on.”

“So do you wanna be in the circle?”

His left eye seemed to twitch as he cocked his head to the side. Something about that movement made a shiver crawl down your spine. The sensation was akin to watching a predator consider its prey from the brush… but that wasn't right. Changmin was all dimpled smiles and goofy shenanigans and twinning with his horror doll child. There wasn't anything remotely scary about him, unless you made him mad (you hadn't yet). So why were your inner alarms screaming for you to run? “That's actually not a bad idea—”

“Okay!” Hyunjae called his hands together. “Let's get started, shall we?”

The thoughts were brushed beneath the dusty rug in your head. You shrugged at Changmin. “Too late, I guess.”

You thought you heard him mutter out something under his breath in frustration, but you didn't understand the language.

All of your other friends began to gather on the side of the circle where the Ouija board was. You weren't even sure what all the pomp and circumstance was for, but Changmin didn't seem up to correct anything. He continued to sulk in the corner with his arms folded over his chest, eyes shaded by the brim of his cap as he stared onward.

Hyunjae's eyes fluttered closed as he, Juyeon, and Shuhua placed their fingers upon the planchette. “To the spirits who may be here in this room with us—”

“And demons,” Shuhua murmured.

A choked sound came from Changmin's side of the room.

Your eyes flickered open and saw him rub a hand down his face as if he was stressed.

“We are opening the veil between your world and ours,” Hyunjae continued. “My name is Hyunjae, and with me are Shuhua, Yn, Juyeon, and Changmin.”

Shuhua inhaled shallowly. “Is there someone here with us?”

The apartment was consumed in a dead silence as the five of you waited. You sat cross-legged in your ring of salt, cheek resting against your fist. Your eyes were drifting to half-mast—it’d been a long day for you, and considering it was approaching midnight already, it was about time you went to bed.

“We brought you a sacrifice,” Hyunjae said. “We were wondering if you could tell us your name.”

A chilling breeze brushed past your cheeks and you glanced up, expecting the air conditioning to have caused it. There was no vent above you, however. Strange.

You wrung your hands in your lap. “You could possess me if you'd like.”

Your eyes joined your friends’ as you all pinned your gazes to the Ouija board. The planchette remained still.

After a beat, your patience ran thin, and you sat up to lean back on your hands—wasn't something supposed to happen?

The amber glow from the candles in the living room wavered violently. In your surprise, your fingers grated against the salt and hardwood as you nearly fell backward. You yanked your hand back to you at the sting.

The bodies in the room went taut, speechless.

A gust of wind—something impossible in this enclosed space—whipped past you in a wide circle. The salt circle was no more, the candle flames were snuffed.

You sat stiff as a board. For a moment, you could swear you felt some invisible, foreign weight rest upon your chest. It sank deep into you, a phantom hand reaching into your body as if to latch onto your very soul.

Ba bump ba bump ba bump, your heart drummed wildly in your chest.

Howls and gasps of delight were drowned out by the blood in your ears; they were sounds of awe from your friends. You placed your hand over your sternum in the dark to feel for that unseen force, but there was nothing.

The room flooded with warm light. It chased away the shadows to the furthest corners.

You glanced up and saw Juyeon at the light switch with a boyish grin stretched across his lips. “That was crazy! Yn, how do you feel?”

Eyes darted to you.

The pentagram beneath you was smudged, the white chalk staining your pants and your hands. You managed a smile, and then a slow nod. What you felt earlier was probably nothing.

“I'm good,” you chirped. You glanced over at Changmin in the corner, his eyes still shaded by the brim of his cap, but with the muscle in his jaw clenched. Why? Why did you look at him? You couldn't fathom why survival instinct had you encoded to turn toward that which was capable of your demise. “Yeah, I'm good.”

A yawn tore through you as you stepped into your darkened apartment. Your hand fumbled for the light switch and you tucked your shoes away on the rack, before depositing your keys onto the table with a noisy clatter. The remainder of your time spent at Juyeon and Changmin's had been spent cleaning up the failed ritual, and you hit the road as soon as it was over.

Your roommates were all out for the night, so the apartment was cold and quiet as you stumbled down the hall to your bedroom. Compared to your friends, you'd left rather quickly because of a text you'd received from Lee Chan, a good friend of yours and former neighbor from childhood. His home life hadn't been the most spectacular, so you and he became fast friends during the moments after school when you hung out on your front lawn.

He'd swung by your apartment earlier to drop off banana muffins, but you hadn't been home. I'm home now! But you can totally come by in the morning instead, you texted him after setting your backpack down and peeling off your jacket.

As you sat in the dim gold illuminating from your desk lamp, the pressure in your chest returned. You could feel your heart pick up speed in your ribcage and you lifted your finger up to your mouth to suck on the dollop of blood that had welled to the surface. It was a small scratch from when the candles went out—your own clumsiness—but it was nothing a My Little Pony bandaid couldn't fix.

A featherweight sensation drifted over your arm, and you slapped your palm over it as if to catch whatever invisible insect crawled atop your skin.

There was nothing though.

You glanced over at the window to your right. The sky outside was an unpeculiar ebony riddled with the white speckles of distant stars. No breeze drifted in from outdoors and you double-checked that the window was closed.

You startled as your phone vibrated on top of your desk.

dino!!: oh it's okay! i have dance practice early in the morning, so i'd rather bother you while ur still awake haha dino!!: i'll be by in about 10ish min if that's cool? your phone: sounds good lol and tysm :’)) love mingyu's banana muffins

You smiled to yourself at the thought of those delicious pastries. Chan's friend Mingyu baked whenever he was stressed, and he usually gave out the results of his stress-bakes to friends. The first time you'd tasted his banana chip muffins was the closest you would ever get to heaven on Earth.

“I'm glad he makes you smile at least.”

Your phone clattered to the floor, your physical body leaping five feet in the air as your soul flew out of its encasing. Everything in you jolted like one, big heart palpitation, and your wide eyes took in the sight of a person standing by your window.

Ji fucking Changmin had nary an apology on his lips for scaring the everloving Hell out of you. It was as if he hadn't even moved out of his position at his apartment: the crossed arms, the tense posture, the clenched jaw.

Except, his eyebrow was cocked this time, unamused by your very valid fear.

“Oh, fuck you.” You braced your palms against your bed as you stood opposite from him. “Fuck you, fuck you, and fuck you.”

“I got it the first time.”

You could have blown steam out of your ears. “What the fuck are you doing in my room, you creep?”

He raised his palms up, finally breaking pose. “I know what this looks like—”

“You know what this looks like?” You let out a scoff, throwing your arm out in wild gesticulation to match the throttle of your heartbeat. “This looks like Edward Cullen in Twilight, except this isn't a movie, you're not Robert Parkinson, and you just climbed up a five story building!”

Changmin stepped forward, and you took a very obvious step back. He exhaled, pressing his lips together. “Okay, I deserve that,” he muttered.

“No shit. I should call the cops on you, friend or not. What is the matter with you?” You had known Changmin for as long as your college career thus far. The five of you had met in the freshman dorms and stuck together like a package deal since. You were all quite close, and you'd spent more than your fair share of quality time with Changmin.

But this—nothing could warrant this behavior.

“I need to talk to you about something important.”

You enclosed your palms around your arms, defensive. “Then you call or text or use the front door. My window was locked—”

“The lock on your window should be the least of your concerns,” he huffed. There was a firmness in his voice and behind his words, and a matching gleam of desperation in his face. He pressed his fingers against your bedspread and the air seemed to still.

That phantom breeze had returned and it drifted against your arm. It came accompanied by the weight in your chest. “What,” you stammered, “do you mean?”

He glanced away then, that tension seizing his shoulders again. He scratched his jaw seemingly at odds with words. “The ritual that happened tonight… that was real.”

You paused. “You have got to be shitting me.”

“I'm not.”

“Changmin, I'm way too exhausted to deal with your pranks right now. If tonight was all an elaborate thing you guys did to get back at me for waking you up at 4AM—”

“Yn.” The tone of his voice made you stop. It made you think. You considered the graveness of his expression differently; you had never seen him so serious. It was jarring. “I am being incredibly serious. The thing that happened to you tonight? That was a summoning ritual, and you were actually put into contact with Hell.”

You remained quiet, unknowing of how to answer. All logic in your brain was countering his statements profusely—it wasn't possible. There was no way something as little as chalk, salt, and candles could open up a portal to Hell.

At your lack of response, Changmin continued, “Tonight, a line to Hell was opened. The ritual was meant to contact a demonic entity. Usually, ritualists use it to make deals and bargains with whoever answers the call. The human link—the 'sacrifice’” —he looked at you pointedly— “is one half of the signing party responsible for fulfilling whatever the bargain is.”

A shudder rattled down your spine at what he revealed to you. This had to be a joke, you thought. This could not be real. But every time you looked at Changmin, the expression on his face did not change and his voice did not waver.

You swallowed, hard. “So,” you said finally, your voice barely a whisper, “you're saying…”

A lone nod. “You made contact with a demon tonight.” He paused for a beat, something warring behind his eyes. “You made contact with me.”

What. You sputtered out a laugh.

Changmin released a small, but sharp exhale, patiently waiting for you to let your giggles out. There were undoubtedly better ways to reveal it, but any way would still evoke such a reaction from you.

“Okay, now I know you're fucking with me,” you said with the lingering curl of a smile on your face. “You're saying that you're a demon?”

He seemed to weigh an idea in his head for a millisecond before caving. He flicked his chin out toward you. “You cut yourself tonight?”

You flinched and instinctively curled your right hand, your other fingers running over the small slice in your index finger. “What?”

“Come on. Let me see.” At your balking, he lifted up his hand. “I bet you I have a matching mark.”

Your eyes narrowed. “What hand and where?”

“Right hand. Index.”

“This doesn't count because that's the most predictable hand and finger.”

He rolled his eyes. “Yn, don't be silly. I literally have the same mark.”

Slowly, he stepped his way around the bed to your side, stopping only close enough where you could inspect his hand from a distance. Lo and behold, the flesh of his index finger was neatly sliced open, slightly diagonal in the top right quadrant of the finger—exactly where yours was.

The breeze returned like a cool breath, gentle against your cheek, as you raised your eyes to meet his again. The horror in your gaze must have confirmed that he'd convinced you of who—no—what he was.

“So what does this mean exactly?” you asked him. There were no giggles this time.

Changmin sucked his bottom lip between his teeth. “We are now bound via soul,” he said and extended his hand out slightly. His fingers curled inward and he gave a tugging motion level with your chest, and something deep within you moved.

Your eyes went as wide as a full moon. “What the Hell…”

“That's the line we're connected by.”

“I'm on a leash?”

Changmin glanced toward the ceiling as if mentally counting to three, then took a breath. “Not a leash; it's just a line. That's what was created between us when I became the demon on the other end and you spilled your blood on the pentagram. It doesn't mean we're restrained to stay within physical proximity of one another, but it does mean that you can't run away and hide from me.”

You shuddered. “That sounds scary.”

“It would be if you didn't fulfill your end of a bargain, but you never made a bargain.” He lifted his baseball cap up to card a hand through his blond hair before replacing the hat on his head. “Which basically means that we're stuck like this. We are emotionally and metaphysically bound to one another.”

There were a lot of words that had been said over the past few minutes, and most of them were difficult to wrap your head around. The worst truth of all was the brief, but very real sensation you had felt when Changmin had tugged on the invisible link between the two of you. That weight on your chest from earlier… had that been the “bond” settling into place?

“How could sitting on a chalk pentagram even” —you waved your hands around as you attempted to formulate words— “how was all of that possible? I thought Ouija boards were fucking toys?”

“I told you guys that you shouldn't play around with those things.”

“Well, how the Hell were we supposed to know this was going to happen?” you countered. The four of you had done some innocent fooling around, and now, you were “emotionally and metaphysically bound” to Changmin. Whatever the fuck that meant.

Changmin sighed, rubbing his hands over his face. “We can undo it. I think.”

You think? “How?”

“I—I need to do some research,” he said with a grimace. “I've never heard about instances like this and I didn't think it was even possible. I thought I could just intercept the call—”

Intercept the call? You shook your head. “I need you to start from the beginning, but slowly, as if you're speaking to a five year old.”

He opened his mouth to retort, then stopped abruptly.

A change in expression flickered across his face. It was brief, almost instinctual. You swore it looked like mild irritation, but it was gone before you could be sure. “You should probably answer the door.”

“Answer the what?”

You nearly yelped at the sound of loud knocking at the apartment door. Confusion pummeled you first, then you were swearing. “Chan.” You forgot he was stopping by.

“I'll be right back,” you said, moving toward the bedroom door.

“It’s fine. I need to go looking for answers.” Changmin stopped you before you went out, and you couldn't suppress the violent shudder when the invisible line in your chest pulled taut. “And Yn? Don't do anything stupid.”

You made a face at him from over your shoulder. “I'm already soul-bound to you by accident. How much more stupid can this get?”

He threw his hand up in the air. “Just don't do anything Hyunjae or Shuhua would do. Actually, just don't tell any of them about what I just told you.”

Why not? You were about to ask when you heard Chan's voice at the door calling out to you. Another swear fell from your mouth and you rushed out into the hallway to rip the door off its hinges.

Chan startled as it opened, his eyes going wide like a deer's in the bright hallway lights. There was a loose blue hoodie hanging over his green dinosaur pajama pants. He had his phone in his hands along with a paper bag undoubtedly carrying the legendary banana muffins. “Oh, hi. Sorry, is someone here with you? I thought I heard another voice.”

You braced a hand around the doorframe. Don't tell anyone. “Ah,” you winced, the lie curling up your tongue, “I was just on a call with a friend and he wouldn't shut up. Sorry about the wait.”

“No, it's no worries,” he insisted with a classic, easygoing smile. It made the adrenaline in your veins calm somewhat. Chan had always been a good presence to be around. There was something perpetually warm about his persona that made you want to stay in his orbit. “Oh, right!” He handed you the bag. “These are all yours. Mingyu says to let him know how they taste this time around, as always.”

As you accepted the bag, your face lit up like a Hollywood billboard. “I can guarantee that they will taste as divine as always. Tell him thanks for me” —you glanced up sheepishly from the paper bag— “and also, thanks for stopping by. I wish I was home earlier so you didn't have to drive all the way back.”

You didn't realize your face had contorted into a grimace. If only you had come straight home instead of indulging your friends’ curiosity tonight. Then, you would have been here with the banana muffins and one less soul-bond to worry about; and you would have been none the wiser to the fact that one of your college friends was a demonic entity.

Hadn't Changmin mentioned that you were now emotionally and metaphysically bound? Did that mean he could feel your emotions?

The smile had long since slipped from your face, but now your hands grew cold. When you got your muffins just now, did he know—

“Yn?” You perked up at the sound of your name. Chan's hand froze midair, then retracted back to his pocket. Concern shone on his face as stark as day. “Are you okay? You look like you just forgot you have something due tonight,” he chuckled half-heartedly, but the sheen in his eyes told a different story.

“Oh.” You forced out a laugh. “I'm fine! Yeah, I was just reminded of something. Actually—uhm, I shouldn't hold you up for any longer. It's getting late.”

Chan stared at you for a moment longer, and for that seemingly infinitesimal second, you feared he could see the invisible knot tied to your ribcage. “Right,” he said suddenly while shaking his head. “You should get some sleep.”

Your hand reached for the doorknob. “Thanks for dropping by again.”

“Wait” —his palm pressed against the door to keep you from closing it— “are you sure you're okay?”

It was as if your guilt was written in plain words across your forehead: No! I just became magically handcuffed to one of my demonic friends! And I also sat in a pentagram salt circle less than two hours ago! Please help me!

You channeled all your energy into a convincing smile. “Yes, I promise I'm okay. Have a good night, Chan.”

It was enough. That easygoing beam graced your eyes once more and he took his hand back. “Okay,” he said, “good night.” He waved to you as he turned on the ball of his foot, and you waited until he turned the corner before closing the door.

Your entire body deflated as you let out a rather dramatic sigh. That sigh turned into a loud groan, which eventually escalated into a borderline scream.

Like a woman possessed (would possession have been a better outcome than this?), you slunk back into your bedroom with your treasures in your grasp. “Hey,” you muttered as you kicked the door closed, “I'm… back.”

The room was vacant. Not a trace of the blond demon could be found.

“Son of a gun.” You settled into your desk chair and pulled out one of Mingyu's stress-baked muffins. As you peeled the parchment wrapper from the muffin's bottom half, you attempted to process all that had occurred within the past two hours. Every time you rewound the events, you met the same dozen or so questions. If only Changmin were still here to answer them, but he mentioned something about going off to answer questions of his own, including ones pertaining to undoing this rather inconvenient situation you’d found yourselves in.

“He should have stopped us,” you garbled between bites of banana chip muffin.

Your chewing came to a gradual halt as you marinated on that thought. “He… should have stopped us.” Why didn't he stop the four of you? If he had stopped you and suggested a movie instead, or any other activity for that matter, you wouldn't be here and he wouldn't be stressed.

He should have stopped you since he knew what you were getting yourselves into.

You crumpled the now empty muffin wrapper in your fist. Ji Changmin had far too much to explain to you.

PART II: THE CONSEQUENCES

IF THERE WAS NO REST FOR THE WICKED, Changmin didn't want to be wicked anymore. By popular perception, he and half his heritage were “evil.” While his father was a human from this mortal plane, his mother hailed from one of the nine circles of Hell. They'd fallen in love, conceived a halfling child, and the remainder was history.

“You look like shit, Ji.”

Changmin's eye twitched as irritation needled beneath the surface of his skin. “Thanks,” he drawled, not bothering to spare Lee Chan a glance. If he had limited energy reserves, he wasn't about to spend a drop on giving Chan the time of day.

Plus, Changmin was more than aware of the thick shadows that lingered beneath his eyes like fog clinging to cobblestone. He had woken up from his ninety minute power nap, trudged into the bathroom, and faced his own gauntness in the mirror. Why the fuck did Lee Chan think it necessary to point it out?

Chan's stare lingered on him through the practice room's mirror for a moment longer until he was called away by Kwon Soonyoung. Only then, when Chan's attention was passed elsewhere, could Changmin release the breath he was holding onto.

It was one thing that Changmin couldn't shake the offputting energy he felt whenever he was near Chan; he could stomach being on the same dance team as the guy, even though they each harbored an unspoken dislike for one another; but it was another thing entirely that he and Chan were both friends with you. The two boys attempted to be civil in front of you because your comfort was more important than their pettiness, but currently, said truce was nowhere in sight just as you were.

Simply, there were less reasons for him to be amiable today, including his thinning patience. Last night’s debacle had drained him of his energy. He was a halfling, not a pure-blooded demon. Additionally, his mother wasn’t a high-ranking demon by any means, which basically screwed him in the area of power stores. He had magical capabilities, but it could only handle so much. Answering ritual calls and creating soul bonds required a decent amount of power, which was why they were usually only answered by the more powerful demonheads of Hell. They enjoyed making human suffering a pastime.

Tacking onto that Changmin’s brilliant idea of warping into and out of your room last night instead of using his own two feet, as well as spending hours digging through the occultish corners of the internet, added all together to make for one exhausted, stressed, and grumpy halfling.

A presence—this one being far more welcome than the previous one—appeared by Changmin’s side in the mirror. “You really need to start going to bed when you say you're going to bed,” Juyeon said as plopped down onto the laminated hardwood to stretch out his calf muscles.

Changmin followed his lead onto the floor, but opted to slide into a left split. “I was tossing and turning the whole night,” he dismissed with an innocent lie. (Well, “innocent” was subjective.)

“You should try this new matcha that Hyunjae got from his hyung. He brought it back from his recent trip from Japan.”

For a second, Changmin let the words feed into his head one by one: matcha… from Hyunjae… from Hyunjae's brother… which one was he? Oh, the one who just got back from Japan, Sangyeon. When his tired brain finally caught up, he gave a nod. “What about it?” he asked, raising himself up to switch his hips into the right split.

Juyeon looked on with envious admiration, even if this was the thousandth time he stretched with Changmin. “It’s really refreshing and has a bit of a caffeine kick, but it's not as awful as coffee. Indigo likes it, too—said something about it being one of those rare finds that you can only get in the secluded countryside or something.”

Changmin paused. Juyeon's girlfriend Indigo was someone Changmin got along with well, but that wasn't why he was slightly interested in the matcha now. What Juyeon wasn't aware of was Indigo's witch heritage. Just as Changmin was hiding in plain sight, so too was Indigo. And if she recommended some countryside matcha powder, he was going to be inclined to try some.

“Yeah,” he coughed, “sure. Sounds like it wouldn't hurt to try.”

Pleased with the outcome of the conversation, Juyeon smiled and nodded. “I'll get you some later today then. Hopefully it'll help with the weird headaches you've been having, too.”

Changmin had nearly forgotten about those with everything that had happened. He'd recently been struck by random headaches; there were no patterns to their appearance, and no remedy—human, at least—that could soothe them until they faded on their own. He'd failed to ask Indigo about it because, well, he didn't think it was important enough to act on. But if this tea could help him out, then it would be taking out two birds with one stone.

Practice went on swimmingly. Though Changmin could only boast about his ninety minutes of sleep, when it came to dance, it was as if he was possessed. This was a hobby—a passion—that never failed to drive a fire through his veins. It didn't matter if he'd had the worst week in the history of worst weeks; when the music started, he was cued in, and he gave it his all.

As a river of sweat poured down his face and the room suffocated with the humidity of everybody's labored breathing, practice came to an end. Changmin hiked his duffle bag over his shoulder and poured water down his throat. Juyeon wasn't far behind as the two of them waved goodbye to their teammates and headed out.

Saturday mornings usually occurred in similar fashions: dance practice was held from 7AM to 10AM, then Changmin and Juyeon would return to their apartment to wash up; Changmin would then eat about an elephant's worth of food while he caught up on lecture recordings—unless he had something else to distract him.

In the case of this Saturday, as soon as Changmin had finished showering, he plummeted face-first into his pillows and was out like a light.

Demons could dream, one must understand. However, the demonic body tended only to dream when it was well spent—exhausted. Demons liked to correlate a weakness with having dreams, because foolish visions meant that one was unable to control their own mind. Control was rather important when dealing with magic.

Even if the dream was about, say, something real and occurring right at the moment Changmin was asleep—it was still considered a dream. Because he had not yet learned to leash his mind from meandering down his fresh soul bond, he found himself in a body that was not his own.

Yours. It was your body.

Was this real, he wondered, as he soaked in the familiar sight of your bed, the desk, and the closet space. He'd been in here just last night—albeit, in a fashion that wasn't agreeable—and he didn't expect it to change, but it did look real.

It was like he was actually sitting in your room, except he wasn't able to move or control his own body. The heart that beat in his chest was yours, the blood that pumped in his ears was yours, and the breath that fell from his mouth was yours.

He inwardly sighed as you adjusted your position at your desk chair. What a predicament he found himself in. He could feel the ache in your back from the uncomfortable piece of furniture beneath you, as well as the knots in your shoulders. (Did that mean you had a bad night of sleep?)

Though, it wasn't all bad, he supposed. He did adore the smell of your perfume lingering in the air and clinging to the sheets, the walls, the furniture… You would never know this of course, if he could help it.

You were currently reading a book—for class or for enjoyment, he hadn't the foggiest. The left side of the novel you clutched in your hand was riddled with colored sticky tabs, and you had the back of a ballpoint pen pressed between your lips. (His lips? …No, this was a precarious line of thinking.)

Changmin followed along as you read. Well, he tried. Whoever designed the layout of this book must have had perfect vision and no sympathy for someone visually challenged. The font size was likely less than ten point, and good grief, the line spacing—

“Holy shit.”

He paused. Right, that was you and not him.

You leaned forward and brought the book closer to your face as you read over the line again.

“Oh my gosh, Eliot, you incredible, talented woman.” This earnest compliment was swiftly followed by a colored tab to mark the passage. Changmin was about to read what you tabbed, but your eyes went down to the desk to scrawl a thought onto a post-it note. “Dorothea, you poor, poor soul. Casaubon needs to get the fuck over himself—you are fifty, dude.”

Changmin, frankly, had no clue what was happening. But he didn't entirely mind, because the pure joy that fluttered in your (his) chest was enough to keep him satisfied. There was something oddly serene about being in your sphere of presence, and in this state of being, that kept him at ease.

The stress of breaking this soul bond ebbed away like the receding edge of a tide.

Alas, all good things had to come to an end. Changmin couldn't tell how much time passed before you bookmarked your place with an index card and pulled your phone toward you.

12:04PM was what your lockscreen read.

Oh, so he was definitely catching up on sleep, at least.

Wait—had you not eaten lunch yet? The unmistakable void in the pit of your stomach…

Yn! Eat lunch, you silly girl! Eat—

“He could just be away from his phone,” you muttered to yourself. There were a few app notifications waiting for you, but each dismissal was fueled with mild disappointment.

Who were you talking about, he wondered.

A flash of bitter annoyance pierced his chest at the memory of who you'd been texting last night with that big smile on your face. However, any of that sentiment was dashed clean away when you pulled up your text chain with him, not Lee Chan.

Changmin's heart sped to a gallop as he watched you swipe out just as quickly as you'd checked in. The reason was two-pronged: one, you were wondering about him; and two, you had texted him while he was currently asleep and he did not know how to wake himself up.

Ji Changmin, he chastised himself, you're not only intruding, you're also inadvertently ignoring her.

He could understand that he put you (and abandoned you) in a worrisome place last night. If he could tear out the strands of his fried, blond hair he would.

You were his friend, were you not? He cared about you, and this soul bond wasn't only stressful to him, but to you as well. Maybe ignorance really would have been bliss in this case.

Your phone emitted a low vibration as it rang. Changmin had missed the moment you decided to call someone. Juyeon's contact name and photo was displayed in the middle of the screen, and he answered before the call went to voicemail. “Yn, what's up? You're—you’re not mad about last night, are you?” The wince in Juyeon’s voice was audible.

“No, I'm not mad,” you promised him as you leaned your cheek against your palm. “I was just wondering if you know where Changmin is. I texted him an hour ago and he hasn't answered yet—I guess I'm just a little antsy.”

Shuffling, then, “Oh! Changminnie's sleeping. He didn't sleep well last night, so as soon as we came home from practice, he was knocked out.”

Relief made your shoulders sag. “Ah, okay.” A smile, self-deprecating in nature, curled up on your mouth. “No worries then. Thanks, Juyo.”

“No problem. I'll let him know to call you once he wakes up.”

“No, it's okay” —you began putting your materials away— “have you had lunch yet? I can swing by with food; I haven't eaten yet.”

“Really? I haven't eaten yet, and Changmin hasn't either. I'll split the cost with you.” Changmin wished he could say that he would also split the cost. Why were you coming over? He hadn't gotten a good look at the texts you sent before.

(It had to be because you wanted to see him, right? To talk—of course to talk and not for any other reason.)

You stood up from your chair and stretched out the stiff muscles in your back. “I'll be by in—maybe twenty or thirty minutes?”

“Sounds great!” Juyeon chirped. “Thanks Yn-ie. See you in a bit.”

You let out a small laugh. “Yeah, see you.”

As the call cut off, Changmin was left with a daunting task: to wake himself up. There didn't seem to be many options as to do this. If demonic dreaming was activated based on lack of control, that meant he had a lack of energy. Thus, if he couldn't yet regain control, it could only mean that he was still tired.

There were a great many things that he had yet to figure out about this kind of magic. It wasn't like his mother ever anticipated he would need to know about it, so she never explicitly taught it and he never asked.

He was kicking himself in the head now.

Meanwhile, you had busied yourself with getting ready to leave. You'd selected a jacket from your closet, swiped on a thin layer of lip gloss, and spritzed yourself with that divine-smelling perfume. It made his toes curl and his chest feel fuzzy.

Just as you were filling your purse, your phone jolted with an incoming call.

Changmin soured as he saw the caller ID through your eyes and felt, not disdain, but pleasant surprise. He couldn't fathom what you saw in Lee Chan, but he never said anything; you and Chan knew each other longer, after all. It wasn't his place to say anything, especially when his reason revolved around something as subjective as a “vibe.”

“Hi Chan,” you greeted when you accepted the call.

It was funny—a dull, but annoyingly familiar pulsing appeared in Changmin's head. It beat steady against his cranium, hard and relentless. The longer it continued, the more it hurt. Could you feel it, too? The sensation was recognizable at this point after so many instances of the random headaches popping up. Was he seriously getting another stupid headache during a dream?

He winced to himself, but suddenly felt his heart drop into the pit of his stomach when he heard you audibly grimace.

Was this headache yours or his? Should he be worried?

“What was that? Are you okay?” asked Chan from the other side.

Changmin/You clenched your jaw as your vision went spotty for a moment. Your hand whipped out to catch yourself against the table.

Panic seized his chest as you muttered out a reassurance, though unconvincing. The invisible string that tied Changmin to you tightened, stealing the breath right out of his lungs. It was as if his own physical body was yanking him back.

He was waking up.

No, he thought, no I need to make sure she's okay—

Distantly, he heard yours and Chan's voices. Your words between one another were muddied and distorted to Changmin. Before he could even begin to understand what was happening, his eyes opened.

“I could smell lunch through the door,” Juyeon sang to you in greeting as he eagerly beckoned you into the apartment.

You chuckled, shucking your shoes off under the rack by the door. In your hand, you held onto a large bag containing a box of delectably fragrant fried chicken and fries. Oh, glorious sodium and cholesterol. “Yeah, well, imagine my suffering as I was driving over here with it in the car,” you mused.

Juyeon locked the door behind you and took the bag out of your hands.

It was another thing to return to the site of last night's ritual. You'd been in this apartment dozens of times before, but it was difficult to look at the specific spot on the living room floor where the chalk and salt had been. Even if the vacuum cleaner had taken care of all that remained, you couldn't help but choose to sit on the end of the couch farthest from that spot on the floor.

“Oh, could I get a glass of water, by the way?” you asked Juyeon as the two of you began taking things out of the bag to lay them out on the coffee table. “I was feeling a bit lightheaded earlier.”

Juyeon's eyebrows creased as he straightened to head into the kitchen. “Shit, yeah—of course. You drove here while feeling like that? What if you passed out, Yn-ie?”

You snuck a fry into your mouth, murmuring your thanks as he handed you the cup of water. “I'm fine,” you insisted with a vague wave of your hand, “it was just the blood rushing up to my head, I think. And besides, you were already expecting me and I was hungry.”

“I would have woken Changmin up and dragged his ass out of bed.” Juyeon settled onto the couch with you and cracked open the can of Sprite he'd gotten out of the fridge. “You know, Changmin's been getting these random headaches, too. I guess not exactly nausea, but you guys have gotta be more careful,” he waved a fried potato at you as he said this.

The irony could not escape you, and you failed to keep a sarcastic smile to yourself. Uh huh. Be more careful, you say? Too late for that. You took a ginger sip of the water. “Is that right? Maybe he just needs more sleep or something.”

“That's what we thought at first,” Juyeon hummed, idly scratching the back of his neck, “but they happen no matter what he does. There's not really a noticeable pattern.”

You wondered if it had anything to do with his demoness. You couldn't be too sure because you hardly knew anything about his species yourself, but that could explain the seemingly randomness of the headaches. Perhaps it was another question to add to your list.

“Huh.” You frowned. “Well, I hope they go away for him soon.”

Juyeon nodded solemnly. “Yeah, same. Hyunjae's gonna bring over some matcha for him to try… oh, hey! You like matcha—do you want some?”

“Sure, I'd love—”

Your phone buzzed violently in your jacket pocket. A laugh of disbelief flew from your mouth when you saw the caller ID, and you flashed the screen at Juyeon. “Speak of the Devil.”

Juyeon chuckled as you answered. “Hello?”

“Hey, I'm so sorry I missed your text.” His voice, rough from sleep, was accompanied by heavy breathing and the sounds of fabric shuffling in your ear.

You nearly choked, but you remembered that Juyeon was none the wiser to the weird spike in your heartbeat, nor the reason for it. “It's all good; I was being impatient. Juyo said you didn't sleep well.” Your eyes darted to his closed bedroom door and wondered why he hadn't come out yet.

“Yeah.” A brief pause. “Are you—are you okay?”

“Of course, I'm okay,” you drawled, glancing over at Juyeon. “Why? Should I not be okay?”

“No, I mean—” His voice in your ear and behind his bedroom door overlapped one another like two ocean waves colliding along the sand. His door ripped open.

Changmin stood on the threshold with his phone in one hand and the other clutching the doorknob. He was in a loose white T-shirt and sweatpants, a thin layer of sweat making his cheekbones shine. His eyes, a wild creature of their own, landed on you—all of the tension in his body melted away.

He exhaled and sank against the doorframe, ending the call. “Hell…” he muttered under his breath as he dragged a hand through his hair.

Concern had you rising to your feet. “What? What's wrong?”

Changmin closed his bedroom door behind him and collapsed onto the couch somewhere between you and Juyeon. “Bad dream,” he grunted. “How much are we splitting?” The latter was asked as he shoved a fry into his mouth and pulled out the Venmo app on his phone.

You and Juyeon exchanged glances over the blond head: what just happened?; you think I know?

Juyeon sent you a shrug. “Well Yn?”

Now their focus was on you. You took your seat again and reached for your glass of water. “Ten bucks each.”

All of the food that you brought turned into crumbs faster than Cinderella's carriage at midnight. Considering all three of you had barely eaten all day, it was expected. At some point, Juyeon dipped out of the apartment to meet someone for a group project, so that left you and Changmin alone. It was the perfect opportunity to get what you came here for.

“You left pretty abruptly last night,” you said to him as you returned to the couch with a full glass of water. Changmin stood nearly opposite to you, his back against the wall by his bedroom door. He also nursed a cup of water. “And I have some questions.”

He let out a small laugh, his lips pressing his dimples into his cheeks. “I'm sure you do. Sorry, I realized that after I left,” he admitted and raised his free hand up to grab the back of his neck. “So shoot.”

It was strange, you thought. There was no way this guy could be a demon, but was that leaning into stereotype? Last night, that feeling you got when he looked at you from beneath the shadow of his cap… your hairs had stood on their ends and you couldn't shake the spike of adrenaline in your bloodstream. It had been undeniable.

But here he was with a pretty, boyish smile as if he was a completely different person.

“What did you mean by 'intercept the call?’ What exactly happened during the ritual last night?” you asked.

The smile slipped from his face a little, and his eyes flitted over to the spot you had been sitting twelve hours ago. “Like I said,” he began, “you opened a line to Hell—like a phone call, basically. I channeled enough energy to answer it before anyone else from Hell could. And instead of, y'know, appearing in front of you like another demon would, I was already there and just chose to stay quiet when the candles went out.”

You straightened. “So the breeze in the room was your doing?”

Changmin cocked his head to the side with a wince. “I think so? At least, I can't control it yet. Think of it as a physical manifestation of power.”

A physical manifestation of power—you imagined last night's scene from Changmin's point of view, where he stood in the far corner. He would have focused his energy toward the breach between the worlds, and that fulfillment swept through the room like a gust of wind. But then what about all the other times? That moment wasn't the only other instance of a cool breeze on your skin.

When you brought this up to him, Changmin pressed his lips together. “Ah. This?”

On cue, something lightweight and cool brushed past your cheek. Your hand darted up to cover it, and you looked over at Changmin who arched a brow at you. “You get creepier and creepier the more I know you.”

His mouth burst at the seams with a smile. He ducked his blond head, shaking it. You were missing some kind of joke here. “Don't speak too soon,” he said. When he raised his head back up, he ran his tongue over his smile. “It happens when I want it to, it happens when I don't want it to. Just depends.”

“Great.”

“I'll get it under control,” he promised.

You leaned forward onto your knees and pressed your mouth into a slight pout. “Is there anything I can do to bug the shit out of you? This seems like it's only entertaining for you.”

“Well,” Changmin shrugged helplessly, “that's kind of the point of why demons started to do this. They find humans entertaining, and they also like to hold them accountable. The line” —he gave a gentle tug at the invisible string you still couldn't find— “is an insurance policy.”

“Saying it like that just implies it's that much harder to work your way around it.”

“Pretty much.” A grin split his face, and you were struck by the ease you smiled back without having meant to. “Don't look too excited now.”

You flattened your face and voice. “I'm thrilled.”

Before Changmin could respond, you suddenly remembered the main question that plagued you last night. You cleared your throat, your fingers dancing around the sides of your glass. “By the way… why didn't you stop us last night?” You watched his facial expression and how it was carefully knitted into something blank. “If you knew what was going to happen, you could have insisted we stopped, and we would have. Why let us get to this point?” you asked, gesturing between the two of you.

Changmin's throat bobbed as he swallowed. “I was pretty confident that I could intercept it, so there wasn't any real risk with doing the ritual if you guys wanted to have fun. I just didn't count on…” He lifted his right hand, where the pinkish scar was left on his index finger.

He hadn't counted on you getting cut and sealing the bond.

You pinched the space between your eyes. “Ah. My clumsiness has now doomed me to be metaphysically handcuffed to you.”

“I wasn't going to say it…”

“Oh, go to Hell.”

Changmin laughed. “Only if you come with me.”

Heat rushed to the surface of your skin. Sometimes, his mouth moved too fast. You snuck a glance at him through your fingers while he sipped on his water. If you peered close enough, the tips of his ears were flushing to a light pink.

He lowered the glass from his lips, and a crease formed between his brows. “Also,” he said carefully, his tone starkly different from less than a minute ago, “I do have another side effect to add to the list.”

Your stomach flipped. Not another thing—

“I may or may not be able to occupy your physical body when I'm dreaming—”

Changmin grimaced as the bottom of your glass banged against the wooden coffee table. That expression only deepened at the wide-eyed fury—fear—on your face. “And when I was asleep earlier,” he continued on, dooming himself to walk the plank, “I kind of intruded on your reading session, and when you called Juyeon, and when Chan call—”

“Can I murder you? Would that harm me in any way?” you cut in.

His mouth was open, but no words were coming out.

You stood, abandoning your seat on the couch and your water glass, to step across the room toward him. “Because if I could,” you said while pressing the back of your knuckles to your lips, “I can rid myself of the absolute creep of a friend I have!”

Changmin's eyes widened as soon as it hit him—your hand. Your hand hit his shoulder.

He bolted.

“Hey, let's talk about this, Yn-ah!” he exclaimed and dove into the kitchen to duck behind the counter. Some monstrously high-pitched scream left his mouth as he scrambled to stay out of your reach.

“We are talking about this, Changmin-ah.” You charged after him, chasing him around the counter and back out of the kitchen. If you didn't respect Juyeon like you did, you would have fully embraced becoming a bull in a china shop.

Your fist hit the solid plane of his bedroom door just as it slammed in your face. You let out a sound suspiciously close to a growl. “You possessed my body without my consent!”

“It's not like I consented to it either! It just happened!”

“That's not a valid excuse, you panini head!”

“I don't want to possess your body!” he insisted through the door with his voice going higher than the Eiffel Tower. “Why would I want to possess your body? I don't wanna be around when you and bestie Lee Chan gush about Star Trek.”

On certain occasions you really wished you had Superman's laser vision. Then you could burn through this stupid piece of door and roast a demon. “You're not helping yourself, Ji.”

A beat passed. “Look,” he huffed. “It only happened because I was exhausted as shit, okay? I really had no control of it, I swear on my life.”

You remained still with your arms braided across your chest without a word coming to mind.

“I didn't see anything sensitive, I promise, and my body woke me up and pulled me out of it when you got that really bad headache.”

Huh? That bout of lightheadedness… was that related to how the connection was severed? Or at least, hindered? You brushed the curiosity aside; weren't you supposed to be mad at this guy?

“Which was also why I was worried when I woke up and asked if you were okay,” he added in earnest. He did look worried like you were going to die when he woke up…

You glared impetuously at the closed door to the point you were sure even the wood grains were two seconds from apologizing to you. “Okay, fine,” you relented. “But you're not fully off the hook; I just won't use the kitchen knives.”

A choking sound filtered through and you felt the corners of your mouth tug upward.

“What can I do to make it even?” Changmin asked, though he continued to remain behind the closed door.

Frankly, there weren't many things he could do to even the score unless you chose to be creepy and sit in on his private moments. You shuddered—you’d rather not. Those were private for a reason. Maybe he could burn his eyes out with bleach. (Kidding… ish.) “I don't know,” you said half-heartedly, ”tell me a secret.”

A moment of silence passed. “I thought it was hot when you asked if you could kill me.”

Not even an ounce of shame with this one, huh? “You're sick. I'm leaving.”

For the second time today, his bedroom door ripped open. “No, wait, I was kidding! Yn, I was kidding.” (He was not kidding).

You stopped, half-whirled around. In your periphery, he stepped out of his room, but refrained from getting too close. When you turned around fully, the red that dusted his cheekbones was unmistakable. Unfortunately, seeing him flustered was enough for you at the moment.

With a feigned, heavy sigh, you motioned to him. “C'mere.”

Changmin perked up like a confused puppy.

“Come here,” you repeated with more urgency this time. You curled your hand toward you to beckon him closer.

He crept closer to you. There was a gleam of uncertainty and suspicion in his eyes as you continued to gesture at him closer… and closer still. Your heart throttled against your ribcage; your physical body was even unsure of what exactly you had in mind.

Only once his face was close enough you could count his eyelashes were you satisfied. You could hear him gulp.

And maybe you let the moment linger too long. His gaze flickered away from your eye contact for a heartbeat, eyelashes fluttering as he considered something out of the bounds of friendship.

You raised your hand up to his forehead and flicked him between his eyes. Hard.

Changmin yelped and fumbled backward to the boisterous sound of your laughter. He rubbed his forehead furiously where an angry, red mark formed and smarted. He snarled at you, “Not cool!” His face was nearly as red as the mark… oops.

“That's what you get!” you countered with an accusing finger. “Now. Promise me you'll never purposely possess my body in your dreams, you perv.”

A grumble came from the depths of his throat—agreement. “I never did it on purpose,” he mumbled, slapping his hand with yours in a binding handshake. He sounded like a teen boy who's gaming console was just taken away.

“And promise me that you will take care of yourself, so that we can get out of this binding thing and so that you don't accidentally possess me.”

“Didn't you offer to get possessed last night?” Changmin stiffened as the words left his lips. “I didn't mean that! Don't get the kitchen knives!”

His giggles pierced the air, sharp but endearing, as he scrambled back into his room with you clinging to his heels. “Or get the kitchen knives—it’s kind of hot.”

“Ji Changmin.”

PART III: THE RELATIVE

WHEN YOU APPEARED IN YOUR 8:30 biopsychology lecture on Monday morning, you had nearly forgotten that the world had not completely turned upside down when you bound your soul to Changmin’s. No one else but you and he knew about it, and it seemed he was determined to keep it that way. Nonetheless, when you settled in your usual seat about midway up the lecture hall, close to the exit on stage right, you looked into Yeh Shuhua’s terrifyingly beautiful eyes and almost blurted your secret.

It was because of that reason, and the fact that she was one of your close friends. She was one of the participants of the ritual; it was only right that you disclosed to her the consequences of all your actions. However, the reminder from Changmin echoed in your head like a dull heartbeat: Don’t tell any of them. Don’t do something stupid like Hyunjae or Shuhua. He realized that ‘stupid’ applied to him, too, right?

“You seem antsy,” were her first words to you as you finally decided on how you would roll up your jacket. It had taken a couple tries and configurations before you settled on just draping it over the chair behind you.

You straightened in your chair. Perhaps subtlety was not with you this morning. “My coffee was too strong,” you said.

She snorted, a bright and unassuming sound, as she pulled her laptop out from her bag. “Honey, you don’t drink coffee.”

…Right. You let the words sink in to properly register your dumbassery, then settled on the most basic excuse known to college students. “It’s too early for this.”

“Amen.” Conversation saved.

When you first signed up for this class, you were under the impression that it would be a riveting insight into the brain and its inner workings. Alas, your professor from Psych101 did you a disservice by testifying to Psych210’s interest factor, because it was entirely lacking in interesting things. The majority of what was being discussed in lecture could be read about via the slides, but unfortunately, participation was mandatory. Even worse was that this class was the prerequisite to the neuroscience class that was actually interesting.

You didn’t like to critique the teaching skills of a professor who was meant to research and not to teach, but you were going to for the umpteenth time.

Beside you, Shuhua barely swallowed a yawn and hid the last bits of it behind the lid of her coffee tumbler. She took a sip, then leaned over to you. “I’m pretty sure I learned all of this in freshman year biology.”

“Is that right,” you murmured. You hadn’t taken the introductory biology series because you were only minoring in psychology, whereas Shuhua was a neuroscience major. “You must really be suffering then.”

Her head slowly touched down onto your shoulder. “Tell me about it… by the way, did you hear about the house party that’s happening on Saturday?”

You hummed. “Who’s hosting?” House parties were usually something you needed to be a part of a friend group to be invited to. Though, that was usually the case for all parties in college, you’d found out. Fraternity parties were oftentimes exclusive to Greeks, or if you knew a frat brother or sorority sister. Other parties were spread by word of mouth and required an entrance fee that amounted to a fraudulent sum of money. Thus, if you went to any party, it was either a house party hosted by a friend of a friend, or one of your friends’ birthday parties.

“Hm… it’s my family friend’s kid’s friend group.” She paused, then clarified her statement, “Yangyang. You know Yangyang, right?

You made a sound of acknowledgement. “Isn't he friends with Xiaojun, Kevin, and Yuqi, that group?”

“That's the one,” she chirped. “But he only lives with Xiaojun and a couple other guys. It's a house in one of the neighborhoods nearby.”

“I see. Are we going?”

“Of course we are, silly.” Shuhua blindly patted one of your hands and you imagined that her eyes were likely already closed. You and your friends were accustomed to forcing one another to socialize outside the group from time to time; it made the college riptide a bit easier to swim through. “I just didn't know if you were aware or not yet.”

“Well, now I am,” you chuckled.

“You sure are.”

The remainder of the lecture went by as dull as it usually did, and 9:30 could not come faster. You and Shuhua bumbled out of the packed auditorium among the crowd of others filing out.

A yawn stretched your mouth open as you checked your phone. “You've got a class after this, right?” you asked Shuhua.

She nodded. “Unfortunately. Do you wanna have lunch together afterward?”

“Ah” —guilt anchored itself to the pit of your stomach, allowing the urge to spill your secret to dwindle— “I'm actually hanging out with Changmin today.” Neither of you had terribly busy Mondays, so you both decided to do some solution-hunting together, whatever that meant. He just needed to be back by the time his dance rehearsal started.

Her mouth quirked to the side in a slight frown. “Oh, okay. Just you two?”

“Yep.”

For a second, you thought she was gazing right into your soul where the invisible knot was tied linking you to your mutual friend. But she suddenly smiled and blew you a kiss. “No worries! Have fun.”

You blinked, the anxiety lingering. “Yeah… thanks. You, too.”

Shuhua left first to hurry off to her next class while you remained in the lobby. You had fully expected that she would at least ask what the two of you were doing, and you were prepared to come up with another dumb excuse. It wasn't suspicious that you and Changmin were hanging out alone, right? There were plenty of instances where you hung out solo with your close friends.

You brushed it away. It was the paranoia talking.

You headed toward the nearest parking lot. Because you lived relatively close to campus, there was usually no need to drive, but since you and Changmin were going elsewhere in the city, you opted to drive.

As you settled into the front seat, you sent him a text to let you know you were on your way over to his apartment. It would be convenient if you could somehow use the soul-bond to communicate with him instead, you thought as you navigated through campus to a nearby neighborhood. Alas, based on what Changmin told you before, the bond was more useful to him than it was for you. How wonderful.

You let your car run as you pulled up to the curb outside of his apartment complex. Through the windows on the first floor, a periwinkle sheen caught your eye. There wasn’t much doubt in your mind that it was the ribbon Changmin tied to his bicycle. It was his favorite color—not that you knew that for any particular reason, other than the fact that you were friends. It was useful information for birthday cards, was your reasoning.

Before you could meander down some weird mental road of thoughts, the passenger side door opened and closed. Your counterpart was dressed in dark green today: dark green sweater, a darker but muted shade of cargo pants, followed by a matching cap shoved over his blond hair. “Hi,” he said, strapping himself in with the seatbelt and setting his bag down by his feet.

He looked particularly pocket-sized today with the cheeky, dimpled smile on his face and you smiled in greeting. “Hi!” you chirped back. “Where to?”

“An aunt of mine lives downtown. Do you know how to get to Union Station?”

You nodded, tugging the car into drive, “Yup. Wow, she lives down by the waterfront?”

“Yeah,” he laughed. When he did, he ducked his head so you only caught a glimpse of that dimpled smile. “She’s married to a siren.”

Your eyes went wide, and his laugh grew louder. You flattened your expression into a deadpan as heat rushed to the back of your neck. “Don’t laugh,” you muttered. “Why are you laughing?”

“I’d say for you to not pout then, but it’s cute,” he replied with that smile lingering on his face in the form of a half-smirk. He had pulled his phone out to text someone. “I’m only laughing because I had a feeling you’d react like that, and I was right.”

You huffed. “I feel like I’m at too much of a disadvantage around you.”

“You have more power than you think.” Changmin passed you a glance and deposited his phone in the cupholder. He leaned his cheek against his knuckles. “You just need to exercise it.”

“Well, I can’t exactly threaten you with kitchen knives and forehead flicks all the time.”

He shrugged. “That’s not what I meant, but it’s whatever. How was class?”

Changmin, Juyeon, and Hyunjae were all aware of yours and Shuhua’s disdain for your shared biopsychology class. The complaints had filed (flooded) in as soon as the first week of classes were over. You could gab on and on about the boredom that plagued you, but you hardly wanted to be a broken record when there were other things to talk about. “It was fine,” you said, then swiftly moved to something else. “I think I almost told Shuhua, like, twice about the soul bond thing. Why can’t we tell them again?”

“Do you really think they’d believe us?”

You thought about it—about the twin cuts on your index fingers, the unseen string that tethered your souls together, the dream that Changmin had. They would think Changmin had roped you into his regular shenanigans, and in a way, he had. You sighed, albeit reluctantly. “True. But it just feels…” you grimaced. “Is it weird that I feel guilty?”

Changmin shook his head. “No, I’ve had to tiptoe around my mom’s and my true nature around you guys for years. It’s natural to wanna be truthful to your friends, Yn, but some things are better left unsaid.”

“Is there a reason why the supernatural community stays hidden? Is that something I can ask?”

“Of course,” he said easily, turning his gaze out the window. “It’s just that it’s better—safer—for us this way. Humans can hardly handle differences amongst themselves as it is; imagine what would happen if they found that even more species of sentient beings existed, y’know?”

Truth was a difficult pill to swallow. It was a capsule that often found itself lodged in a throat rather than being digested. And even if it eventually managed to make it to the stomach, it sank to the bottom like a body anchored by bricks in a river. There was, unfortunately, much merit to what Changmin said.

Your eyes flickered to your side mirrors as you merged onto the highway. “I see.”

“It’s definitely relieving that at least one of my close friends knows the truth now, though.” He knocked the back of his hand against your arm in a warm gesture, and although you were unable to return the expression or even look at him then, he was looking at you.

Because you and Changmin set off just after rush hour passed, the drive through the downtown scene was relatively easy. The rest of your time in the car was spent chatting about the party Yangyang and his housemates were throwing, as well as Changmin directing you to his aunt’s residence by the marina. His ability to give directions left much to be desired; your car was filled with shouts and bickering whenever he told you to turn too late.

Somehow though, you arrived at the right street, and he even helped you find a parking spot along a curb that didn’t involve ungodly hourly parking rates. You wouldn’t call it a complete redemption, but he was on his way toward one.

“Are you sure it’s cool if we just show up unannounced like this?” you asked him, tilting your head back to peer up at the apartments that towered above you. Some of the windows were left open and their curtains drifted whimsically in the mid-morning breeze; some of the fire escapes were connected by copper-colored ladders, fitting together like a puzzle. You liked to think that complexes like this housed residents who were friendly to one another like some fantasy video game—a pair of friends hanging out of their windows to gossip across the fire escapes, a cat sleeping in the window—that sort of thing.

Changmin stood next to you, but his gaze was turned out to the marina in the distance, the sails of boats in the foreground of the slate blue-gray of the bay water. “Yeah, it’s cool. And we’re not exactly unannounced; I told her we were coming.”

“When?” You followed him in through the front door. The hinges squealed upon use and the door shuddered violently when it closed.

“In the car.”

You deadpanned at his back as you followed him up the stairs. “You’re an awful relative.”

“Don’t all relatives show up to their other relatives' homes unannounced?” he jested. “I’m a model nephew, actually.”

“A model in what standard? Hell?”

He shrugged up ahead, glancing back to pass you a boyish grin. “Yeah, basically. My mom says demons just kind of teleport into their relatives’ homes unannounced.”

“So that’s where your incredible lack of boundaries comes from,” you said and glowered up at him.

You met Changmin on the landing of the second floor and ducked out of the stairwell into the dimly-lit corridor. It was quiet here in the middle of the day, but you could hear the muffled sounds of television programs and voices emanating behind different doors you passed by. The carpet was well-trodden and didn’t kick dust up when you walked, and the overall smell was vaguely fishy and reminiscent of the seafood section of a supermarket.

“Cultural difference,” he replied cheekily. “This is hers, Aunt Jenna’s.” He gestured to the door he stood at with a rusted, gold B29 hanging on its surface just above the peephole.

You tucked your hands into your jacket pockets. “Anything I should know before going in?”

Changmin paused and his face flashed with realization. It translated roughly, but accurately enough, to ‘Uh oh.’ He opened his mouth to say something, but the door beat him to it.

Correction: his aunt beat him to it. Or at least, she was who you assumed was his aunt. Her facial features and bone structure weren't similar to Changmin’s at all, but those eyes—dark like the deepest corner of a shadow; engulfing, embracing, enveloping—her eyes were what made familiarity pang in your chest where the soul-knot sat.

Her mouth stretched into a bright smile. “Changmin-ah! And his significant other, isn’t it—or kids these days say partner instead, hm? Don’t be strangers now; come in, come in!”

What did she just say? You have got to be kidding me.

Too overwhelmed to think, you let his aunt usher you and Changmin in through her front door. You threw—chucked—an alarmed glance over at your counterpart, who could only meet your wide eyes with his own. Shoes were exchanged for slippers, and you were guided toward a couch settled in one part of the cozy living space.

“It’s nice to meet you, Aunt Jenna,” you finally managed to say through the heat flaring up your neck and behind your ears. “But I do have to, uhm, correct you.”

Changmin coughed beside you on the couch as his aunt perched on the coffee table across from you both. “She’s not my romantic partner, auntie. Yn’s just a friend.”

You nodded earnestly.

His aunt’s face flickered from that sunny smile to a more somber surprise. She broke into a sheepish sort of laugh, absentmindedly brushing a lock of hair behind her shoulder. “Oh, well how silly of me. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable—I got embarrassingly excited,” she confessed. She addressed Changmin specifically, reaching over to whack his knee, “You used the word for lover when you texted me earlier!”

Changmin’s hands rocketed up as both you and his aunt fixed him with pointed looks. “It was a typo and an honest mistake,” he swore. “I haven’t spoken or written in that demonic dialect in awhile,” he said to you, “and the words for friend and lover are, like, one letter different.”

His mouth had pursed into an unconscious pout, and you reached over to flick him between the eyes. Bone against fingernail, and the dense thunk sound the impact produced was quite satisfying.

“Ow! I'm sorry!”

You turned to a rather amused Aunt Jenna. “I'm sorry I did that in front of you. I swear, I won't make a habit out of it.” That remained to be seen, however. How had you refrained from flicking him for his behavior before this?

She chuckled. “I'm sure he's warranted it more than once. It's nice to meet you, Yn.”

“Likewise. You have a lovely home.”

Changmin held his forehead with his hat now sitting in his lap, and his eyes narrowed at the two of you. “This was the worst idea I've ever had.”

“Do you drink tea, Yn?” his aunt asked you, waving aside her nephew's comment. “I'll make us some tea and we can talk about whatever you both came to discuss.”

Tea was served on an elegant tray made of polished dark wood. The color was a deep red, as if it had been dipped in a vat of blood, and was engraved with images of what you assumed to be flowers with long stems crowned with big, beautiful petals. You nursed a Finding Nemo mug between your palms, gently blowing on the steam that wafted out of the aromatic floral tea.

Just the fragrance of the drink was enough to put you at ease. The muscles and knots in your shoulders loosened, your frown lines smoothed over. You took a gentle sip and savored the tangible warmth that streamed down your throat and into your stomach.

You nodded to Aunt Jenna who's dark eyes gleamed knowingly over the rim of her mug. “That's very good,” you said.

“Isn't it? Would you like to take some home?”

Changmin harrumphed from beside you after taking a hulking gulp of his own drink. “Guys, please.”

“Mm yes, yes.” Aunt Jenna waved her free hand flippantly. “Your problem.”

While Jenna had prepared the tea, you and Changmin explained to her how your souls became tied together. Most of the explanation consisted of specific details of the ritual itself, not the circumstances before. You described the physical sensations on your end, and Changmin added in his out-of-body experience.

When your piece was said, it left Aunt Jenna to marinate on all the facts. She took a sip of her drink first. “Well, you're both fools, but you” —she wiggled an accusing finger at her nephew— “especially. How could you be so irresponsible as to let your friends go through with a bargaining ritual?”

Changmin grabbed the back of his neck and hung his head like a kicked puppy. “It didn't seem like the end of the world if they wanted to have fun.”

“I suppose,” Jenna muttered, but not without some sympathy. She was a demon living amongst humans, too, after all. “But look where that's gotten you both. There are just far too many unforeseen variables that could have made this situation ten times worse. You and Yn becoming soul-bound is probably the best outcome, frankly.”

You would beg to differ, but you kept your lips stitched together and attached to the rim of your mug.

“But as for undoing it, I'm afraid there aren't many options.”

You detached your mouth from the mug.

You and Changmin exchanged a glance with one another. He asked, “What are our options?”

Aunt Jenna's mouth pursed slightly to form small divots in the sides of her cheeks. “The one most accessible to you is to bargain with another, more powerful demon to take over your bond with Yn.”

“Absolutely not,” he interjected. “That's out of the question.”

“I guessed as much,” she said, taking another sip. “Then it's quite literally impossible—unless you used cursed magic—but even if you didn't care about facing the hellish consequences, gaining access to a Book of the Diabolical is insanely difficult.”

Though you were completely ignorant to almost everything Aunt Jenna was saying, you weren't so ignorant to her message between the lines: you were fucked. Supremely.

Looking over at Changmin only confirmed what you were thinking. There seemed to be a war being waged behind his eyes as he clutched his mug in his lap and glared at a grain in the hardwood floor. This situation was partially your fault and his, and now, the only thing you could do was to drown in the consequences.

You turned to his aunt. “Then how can we live with it?” In your periphery, Changmin's head raised. “I mean, are there techniques to better control this situation, like on both Changmin's end and my end if we can't simply rid ourselves of it?”

Aunt Jenna considered you for a moment, then nodded slowly. “There are,” she said. “Control is something very valuable to demons, Yn. I don't know how much Changmin's told you—”

You sent him a thin smile.

“—but mastering your own body is one of the most integral things young demons first learn. If you don't have control over your mind and body, then how could you possibly be trusted to control anything else?”

That made sense, you thought. It was a thoughtful principle, too, that others (humans) could learn from. What other parts of demon culture and values were there that these two would be willing to share with you?

Jenna had finished her cup of tea by now and set her empty mug back onto the tray. “So the easiest way, I think, to safeguard yourselves against one another is to strengthen your minds.”

What exactly Aunt Jenna had in mind was meditation. Because you were human and couldn't exactly perform the same demonic energy rituals and mind exercises that Jenna and Changmin could, meditation was the next best group activity. In order to do this, Jenna shut all of the curtains and sealed the living room off from the outside world. The coffee table and sofa were shoved to the edges of the room, while the empty space was occupied by three bath towels and a Bath and Body Works candle.

It was reminiscent of the ritual from That Night, but your heart rate sat a little more stable with the belief that you were in capable hands this time.

The three of you arranged yourselves in a loose triangle around the lit candle, its small flame shuddering at the force of your breaths.

“You can place your hands wherever you're most comfortable,” Aunt Jenna said lowly, softly—a vocal embodiment of the small head of fire upon the candle. “Sit up straight, close your eyes, and breathe in deep… let the darkness envelope you.”

There weren't many moments when you considered yourself petty, salty, or bitter. But at this very moment, you were most certainly all three at once.

“Are you really still mad that you fell asleep?” The question was posed with as much audacity as there was incredulity in his voice.

You didn't have to direct your glaring eyes at Changmin for him to feel the edge. “It was embarrassing,” you grumbled.

“Aw, it's okay. Not everyone has the mental fortitude to meditate.”

And you do? you wanted to snap back like a five year old. Instead, you tightened your grip on the steering wheel and focused on not steering the two of you off the road. “I will literally ditch you on the highway.”

He leaned his head against the window to watch you with a twinkle in his eyes and a toothy grin on his lips. “And I will literally haunt you in your sleep.”

The pair of you were in the car driving back up to the university. You had just left Aunt Jenna's about fifteen minutes ago after the failed meditation session (for you) and her insisting you both stayed for lunch. With your stomachs full and your heads quite literally empty, there was nothing left to do but to return home.

There had been a moment before you both left when Jenna pulled Changmin aside to have a private conversation. You had lingered outside the apartment door, but couldn't hear anything despite it being left slightly ajar. There must have been some crazy soundproofing done on her apartment. A charm, perhaps?

But when Changmin came to join you, you picked up the tail end of their talk. It had to do with Changmin pleading with her not to tell his mom about what happened; Aunt Jenna would only agree if he promised to babysit her kids next week.

That thought made you smile to yourself even through the cloud of salty pettiness in your vision. What was Changmin like around kids? The guy was rather childish himself, but… you wouldn't deny that he would probably be good—

“What are you smiling about?” he mused as he peered out from under the brim of his cap. He reclined his seat back a little and crossed his arms over his chest, settling himself in for the ride back.

You scoffed and forced the smile away. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

He hummed. “Methinks it was about me,” he teased and tugged his cap further over his eyes so even his mouth was barely visible. At your silence, he murmured, “Also, I hope you're not bothered about earlier.”

“Hm?”

“I mean—the fact that you weren't able to meditate. And,” he added quickly, “I'm not trying to make fun of you. It's just that that was the only way Aunt Jenna could think that you could safeguard yourself against me. I'm gonna be really good about this, Yn, I swear. I don't—y’know, I don't want anything to change between us.”

Ah. Well, since his hat was over his eyes, you allowed your smile to slip back into place. The weight in your chest was warm, a comforting sort of tightness. You were gradually getting more accustomed to its presence, and at this particular moment, you were glad to be aware of it.

“I believe you,” you said to him. “And I don't want anything to change between us either.” You were friends before the ritual, and you would continue to be friends after it.

You were content with being accompanied by your thoughts and the radio for the remainder of the ride. Your companion in the passenger seat had drifted to sleep at some point when the highways began to grow rather congested with the early afternoon traffic. Changmin had a dance rehearsal in a couple hours, which gave some leeway as to what time you needed to get him back by.

By the time you hit the university district, the sun perched lower in a sky spotted with cirrus clouds, wispy and drifting in the autumn breeze. The filter it cast over the world was a mute gold, warm.

Changmin peered out his side window as you navigated through the busy streets, his face nearly pressed up against the glass because his cap was turned around. There was far too much foot traffic at three in the afternoon, but it was unfortunately a popular time to be out and about for students on a Monday. “Could you drop me off at the sandwich shop on the corner over there?” he asked suddenly, his voice gravelly from disuse. He inclined his chin further down the block, and you had enough time to switch lanes.

“Yeah, sure,” you murmured, glancing over at him. “You don’t want me to drop you off straight at the dance hall?”

“Nah, I’ve got a couple hours, so I think I’m gonna get another bite to eat first.” He rummaged around in the bag at his feet, double checking that he had brought along everything he needed. “D’you wanna…” His voice trailed off as he turned his head up toward you.

You hummed in question and furrowed your brows in concentration to direct your car into a parking spot along the curb.

“Did you wanna come in with me? I don’t know what your plans are after this.” Changmin had one foot out the door, but the rest of his body remained here with you, in the car, as if hesitant to leave just yet. With the brim of his cap turned around, you could better see his face, the hair pushed out of his dark eyes. There was a small smile seated upon his lips, hopeful in the way it curved into his cheeks in the way you always found slightly endearing.

Your hand lingered by your seatbelt. What were your plans after this? Nothing, right? “I mean, if you don—”

“Yn, is that you?”

The voice and the interruption elicited similar jolts from both of you. Your head whipped around on instinct to locate the person who had called out to you.

Crossing the street to you now was Lee Chan. He had his backpack slung over his shoulder, and he waved a hand at you when he caught your eye. But they flickered away from you to someone behind you—Changmin straightened to his full height, his head appearing over the roof of the car.

You glanced back at your counterpart. That smile, so boyish and innocent, had grown an edge.

“Thanks for the ride, Yn,” Changmin said to you, ducking his head to address you. He reached into the car so he could clasp your hand, his fingers clutching yours as he stole your gaze away… they lingered. “I’ll talk to you later, hm?”

You nodded, unsure why you were so dumbfounded. “Yeah, sure,” you stammered out. “I had fun today.”

“Same.” And there was that smile again. It wasn’t exactly the same, but it had softened out at the corners. With a final raise of his hand, he shut your passenger door and jogged off toward the shop.

You blinked as air suddenly filled your lungs again. Had you been holding your breath the whole time? You forgot to wish him a good rehearsal.

A knock on your window had you swiveling your head around. Chan grinned as you rolled your window down. “Hey, what’ve you been up to?”

Not a mention of Changmin, you noted. You were aware of Changmin and Chan’s dislike for one another, and though it caused you a torrent of internal conflict, there was nothing that you could do about it. If they were unwilling to talk about it with each other or with you, then there was no use. Both of them were important figures in your life, so it was just as important that you could keep them both—was that selfish? It seemed that they were able to somewhat coexist, however, if they participated on the same dance team. How did that even work out?

“I was out with Changmin for most of the day,” you said. “We were just… y’know, visiting a relative of his downtown.” There was no harm in saying that, right?

Chan’s expression didn’t even shudder. “Oh? I didn’t know he had relatives downtown.”

Of course, you didn’t. You appreciated that he tried to be civil about Changmin around you, but sometimes the pretense was more aggravating than the petty disdain. “Yeah, they were really nice. We drank tea and chatted a bit.”

“Glad it was a chill time,” he smiled. “Ah, speaking of—I was wondering if you wanted to go visit Chaeyoung noona with me sometime this week? I've been trying to figure out the best time to go see her before midterms.”

You brightened at the mention of Chan's older sister. Though his parents had passed away before Chan graduated high school, he was supported mostly by his older sister, Chaeyoung. You'd heard and seen for yourself the chronic illness that she was cursed with, however. There had been a decent stretch in time when her situation looked much better, but recently, she had been forced back into long-term care at the hospital.

“Yeah, definitely! It'll be nice to see her after so long. Just text me and let me know what day you decide.” The last time you saw Chaeyoung was probably at the start of the past summer break when you went home to see your parents with Chan. Though you and Chan were around the same age, he acted more as an older brother figure to you, likely because of Chaeyoung's good influence.

The golden hour sun glinted its rays into your eyes, and you were reminded of the time. “Oh, don’t you have dance practice soon? Need a ride over?”

“Yeah, I do, but I don’t need a ride,” he said. “I was about to meet Vernon in the cafe down the street though. Do you wanna come with?”

The idea of accepting his invitation crossed your mind, but the ache in your legs and at the nape of your neck were suddenly a lot more prominent than before. You hadn’t even realized how tired you were. “Not this time; I think I'm a little tired. Thanks for the invite, though!”

He pressed his mouth together in slight disappointment, but waved it away with a casual hand motion. “Of course. Drive home safe, then.”

“I will. Have a good time, Chan.”

Chan returned the sentiment back to you, but instead of leaving right away, his lips parted another time. He paused, concern gleaming in his eyes—or was that the setting sun? You couldn’t tell the difference, but there was something he couldn’t quite articulate with words that his facial expression was desperate to reveal to you instead.

You frowned. “Something wrong?”

He let out a small laugh and brushed away the thought. “No, don’t worry about it.”

Are you aware that you've been cursed?

Aunt Jenna's words echoed in Changmin's head ceaselessly throughout the dance rehearsal. They had been subdued slightly when he was asleep in your car earlier, but consciousness tended to surface more nightmares than the unconscious state. Even in the bright light of day, those shadows found a way to creep in and force him into some horrific tunnel vision.

No, he wasn't aware that he'd been cursed. How could he?

Out of everything he thought she pulled him aside for, that was the last thing he expected. The look in her eyes—those dark irises that mirrored his in depth—had been stricken by a grave worry. Those all-knowing eyes, far surpassing his in experience, had taken one look at him coming in through the door and determined something horrible had happened.

A curse?

You haven't been feeling strange lately? She had grasped him by the shoulders, her hands firm in their iron grip. Any strange aches and pains?

The headaches. He told her about the random, spotty headaches that had been plaguing him recently. It hadn't occurred to him at all that they could even be a side effect for a curse.

I've heard some strange things have been going on to the demons in your area. The curse has subsided for now because of your half-humanness, but…

Changmin could fill in the blanks.

His appeal to Aunt Jenna about not telling his mom about any of this included both the soul-bond and the curse. Based on what his aunt told him, there have been demons in this area who have been forced into critical conditions by an energy-stealing curse. That would explain his frequent headaches and his increased exhaustion. Though, the headaches had been on the decline as of late, which coincided with the other part of Jenna's warning.

He was at odds. He couldn't simply sit around and wait for whatever maniac was at large to suddenly stop. He and all the other demons around him were sitting ducks. Worrying about the soul-bond was one thing, but he supposed this now took priority.

Changmin hunched over his bag in one of the darkened corners of the practice room. The lights had been turned down slightly as their four reserved hours drew to a close. It was a hard night, but the sweat, heat, and adrenaline was a delightfully addicting mixture.

Absent-mindedly, he rubbed a palm over his chest. The invisible knot there that linked you to him tightened at the attention. He had made a habit of this over the course of the past few hours; the physical sensation of the string tugging grounded him and kept him from disappearing into his head too much.

Could you feel him on the other end? He was certain you could if he made it obvious. If he tugged just right—

“Ji. I need to talk to you.”

The only sign of surprise Changmin let Lee Chan see was the raising of his eyebrows. “I don't need to talk to you.”

“It's about Yn.”

Changmin's movements froze. He let go of his bag's strap and zippers with a sigh, then straightened up to meet Chan eye to eye. He crossed his arms over his chest. “What about Yn?” You were his problem now, whether you liked it or not.

Chan's eyes narrowed at him, a muscle in his jaw twitching. “I don't know what you think you're doing with her, but you need to stop. It was enough that she's friends with you—”

He couldn't help but scoff. What the fuck is he going on about? Changmin's mouth twisted into an incredulous smirk, the points of his canines peering out from under his lip as he jabbed his tongue into his cheek. “I was wondering when you'd finally drop the Nice Guy act.”

“This isn't about me putting up a front,” Chan quipped in hushed tones. He wouldn't have done so if he wanted to make a scene. “This isn't even about us not liking each other. My problem is that you're roping Yn into your—your fucking bullshit.”

Changmin furrowed his brows. “You're being vague and dramatic, Lee Chan. I really don't have the time or the patience for this.”

“I know who you really are, Ji.” In any other context, those words in that order would have made Changmin bark out a laugh.

Changmin shuddered as he sized up Lee Chan in a different light. It was almost funny how perspective could change everything. In the daylight and bright fluorescents, Chan was a model kid with a charming smile and unshakeable charisma. He cared about you and watched over you like a brother. But without the presence of light was when Changmin was most afraid of what he saw. It was not because he was afraid of the dark—the shadows, frankly, were a demon's ally—it was because the dark did something to Chan in the same way blood infested clear water.

Chan's mouth was set in a firm line, and nothing about his facial expression or stance gave even an inkling that he was bluffing.

“I still have no fucking clue what you're talking about,” Changmin replied lowly, scooping his bag up and brushing past Chan.

He went to find Juyeon. The organ in his chest pumped his blood wickedly fast through his system; the blood thundered in his ears, loud and deafening, like an oncoming train. Aunt Jenna was in his head, you were in his chest, Lee Chan was at his back.

Ba-boom, ba-boom, ba-boom, ba-boom—

He and Juyeon were out the door in a flash, but Changmin glanced backward—because we always turned toward that which was capable of our demise; that was survival instinct—and he flinched when Chan's eyes caught his again.

Changmin let the door slam behind him as he stole into the cold night. If only the darkness could hide him from whatever just happened.

read part two here (if the link isn't there yet, refresh out of this page and it'll be linked at the top)

permanent taglist 1: @flwoie @vatterie @seomisaho @hqrana @ja4hyvn @outrologist @rikizm @luumiinaa @lotties-readings @tinkerbell460 @kaaimins @hyunjaespresent-deobi @otterly-fey @gluion @floatingpluto @winterchimez @ethereal-engene @gyulfriend @polarisjisung @jaehunnyy @shakalakaboomboo @loveliestfelix @bless-311 @zhaixiaowen @leaz-kpop-life @amourdsr @pxppxrminty @kqyutie @sseastar-main @kxthleen14 @fluorescentloves @mosviqu / fic taglist: @tbzhubrecs

[banj0possum]

What if i want to bite them (all characters), like. Its love bites <3 like not hard enough to bleed hut enough to leave a mark for a while. Like i love them so much i just cant help it! I would kiss the bite marks after in hopes to make them not hurt as much <3

-🩷

Darling Gives Them Love Bites <333

My OCs x GN! Reader

Heres a short post from an old request as a little snack before the yan gang!!

CW: biting ofc, nsfw jumpscares sprinkled in, tooth decaying fluff

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Adrian is a bit confused and weirded out at first, like why are you biting thats gross youre gross wait why are you stopping you have to bite his other shoulder or else its not symmetrical and itll feel weird come back !!

he needs to get used to it gradually, but once it gets to the point you leave marks on his skin, he's asking for a lil bite every time you two say goodbye so he can have a memento of you

he cums in his pants if you lick the bite oh my god please do it again he begs of you

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Brandon thinks it's a game and bites you back, picking you up and throwing you up in the air. You activated some kind of trigger in him that made him go full excited golden retriever.

He bites you back, kissing the area over and over again as revenge

He probably bites more than you to be honest, he's always wanted to bite but held back in case you were uncomfy with it, but now that he knows you're cool with it he's going ham.

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Valeth is cooing over you, little duckling bites!! so cute!!!

He praises your bite marks, pointing out the parts that hurt saying things like "If you tried, you could definitely break skin! Good job my duckling!"

Thinks your little teeth are cute, especially your canines, he loves comparing it to his tusks.

He allows, no, encourages to let you nibble on his hand or arm

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The horde doesnt let you, kisses are ok, but biting ? no no no

not because they dont like it, they just dont want you putting your mouth on their literally rotten skin

plus they associate biting with eat so thats a bit of a problem

but my oh my they love kisses, give them a bit and maybe just maybe theyd let you nibble a little bit.

dont let them do it back to you especially ribs, they have super sharp teeth that can break bone if they wanted

but like you might be into that so idk man

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Wolfie thinks youre being aggressive before you assure him its how you express love, then he starts to do it back or lick you.

It's more of him casually putting a part of your body in his mouth protectively, he doesnt wanna hurt his mate ;-;

he still prefers licks and cuddles tho, anything that involves cuddles are ok for him!!

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Doriks cummin buckets im sorry

are you marking him as yours ? please do it some more please! maybe on his ear? arm? dick? chest?

hes all yours !!!

he offers to bite you back, itll eventually turn into very intense sex that ends with the both of you covered head to toe in bite marks

he wants round 2

use it as a reward and hes doing whatever you ask with the speed of a sports car

appears right next to you, neck exposed, waiting eagerly for another bite

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kalva is confused but laughs and bites you back, its a little painful because of the beak but he tries his best to be gentle.

he sees it as you trying to preen him and swoons over your 'attempt'

he preens you in order to teach how its really done! its mostly just an excuse to love on you <3

hes very ticklish so expect a flurry of giddly hoots and chirps from him whenever you nibble on him

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jasper is crying sobbing rolling on the floor rn

BITE HIM ON THE BECK PLEASE BITE HIM ON THE N-

he wants to roleplay with you being a vampire and him being your mortal soulmate

lil guy a bit freaky like that <3

moans so loud when you bite him, he has to apologize

euheheh eghghhh hes so crazy for you and your love bites

doesn't wanna bite back because skin on teeth is not a good sensation for him, but he'll cover your face in kisses to return the favor

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The vampires are cooing, swooning, absolutely simping for you

our little mortal is biting us so cute soc ute!!!!

get ready for never ending teasing and kissing

they point out the marks you leave and talk about how much better it would be if you were a vampire like them!

they fake terror over your bites, oh nooo a cute little human is biting me !! so so spooky !!

please let them bite you back

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Baron is short circuiting

ohmy oh oh my oh yomhyo-

thank you.

he has to process what just happened for a bit

tries to forget about it but he cant help but want another one when he gets a glimpse of your teeth when you talk or smile at him

stays up and imagines your mouth all over his skin leaving teeth marks everywhere

stayed up that night pumping his cock when he remembers you biting your lip that one time

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Caspian makes a big deal out of it

hes literally morticia in the addams family movie

last night you were unhinged, you were like some desperate howling demon, you frightened me

do it again

no please were are you going do it again!!!

"misbehaves" so you can bite him again as punishment

oops! i splashed you with water! you might have to bite me again~

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Hallow is yanking his fabric back and scolds you, what if you choked? he'd be worried sick!

gets you a chew fidget instead

doesnt quite understand love bites

please explain to him why eating him means you love him

maybe its because you think hes delicious? awwee thank you! youre delicious too i suppose !

coos over you as he holds you close, thank you for the bite honeypie!!

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Ashvan is squealing over how cute it was!!

blushes whenever you do, like very very flustered, his eyes might be covered by soft fur but you can almost see the redness on his face

his ears flatten as he tries to calm his frantically wagging tail

he gets much shyer whenever you smile at him or when you bite into your food during meals

he has to timidly ask for another bite with his index fingers touching together

please give him more biteys!!

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Axel tells you to bite harder

try it! hes tough! lets see how strong that jaw of yours is!

*frantically hiding his growing erection*

calls you little kitten or..rat

teases you by poking at your mouth with his finger to get you to bite

he loves it, he thinks its the cutest thing whenever you do it, especially when youre just subconsciously nibbling on him as if he was a chew toy

he makes sure his hands are always washed for you, no more touching dirty stuff carelessly, he gotta take care of himself for you!!

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King Alistair is pushing you away and coldly telling you no, but once you two are alone in your shared chambers, away from prying eyes, he softly tells you to continue

of course he loves you, he wants you to be free to express yourself, but please dont do it when people are watching

he has a reputation to uphold! not because he's shy and insecure about showing pda in public or anything...

bites back, definitely bites back!! out of all the ocs i think he bites the most next to Brandon

loves playing predator and prey whenever you two are fooling around together, if he ever leaves marks, hes kissing them softly to let you know he means no harm, he just got a bit carried away because youre just so sweet~!

if you leave marks, hes covering it up in his clothes, but occasionally he heads to he mirror, pulls away the fabric covering your lovebite, and smiles

argaragrgagrggrgargagrg

[fr3aklike-me]

night in with a stranger ☾⋆｡ ๋࣭ ⭑˚

contains: vampire lesbian sex (straight ppl NO this is not for you), narrator is referred to as having a "cock," reader is referred to as having a "pussy," "cunt," "clit" and "breasts," reader is called "silly girl," cunnilingus, corruption kink (+ inexperience kink?? i guess), d/s dynamics, v slowburn, implied blood-sucking desires + tendencies (so ofc warning for blood mention)

note: this story is inspired by this ask and this ask, so thank you so much to the anons who sent this!! this story is very overdue, but yes, i've finally finished hehe. also, yes, this is meant to be a vampire scenario, but the vampire tendencies in question are very vaguely alluded to (one, because i was unsure how to go about a vampire!narrator as i've never written one before, and two, i thought it might be interesting to make a part 2 where those tendencies are more explicitly revealed to the reader and incorporated into the characters' sex lives)

On a cold, fall night, you find yourself lost. You didn’t mean for it to happen – you were retrieving a hot drink from the market during such a bitter evening, eager to return home and curl into the softest cushions while drinking it. Somehow, however, on the way back home, you got lost in the forest and when you emerged from the thick, looming trees, you were met not with your village, but wide, rolling hills of green, blanketing the ground for miles.

Needless to say, you are now panicking, head swivelling in all directions, desperately trying to grip onto any sense of hope that with the sky dark, the leaves of the tree a shadowed emerald, the hoots of owls cooing from the depth of the trees, you could find your way home. You fumble with the flimsy cloak you’re wearing, goosebumps skimming along the surface of your skin, a stark reminder of the fact that you will need shelter soon. 

You realize that walking through the forest is most likely not a good decision, for who knew what creatures lurked beyond the towering trees, so you make your way along the hills, hoping to complete some estimate of the same distance you made to arrive at this point, so perhaps you can find the entrance of the forest you entered through after visiting the market. A weak plan, but you have no idea what else to do.

After an hour, you find not a glimmer of hope to be found amongst the trees. Surprisingly, instead, you spot an orange flicker on a raised hill beyond the expanse of greenery you’ve been trudging upon. The single beam of light vaguely shows the outline of a dark manor, and despite your nerves, you force your way there. Hopefully, the owner is someone who is kind enough to afford you a warm meal and bed for the night.

At least, this is the story you tell me when we’re seated across from one another in my manor, warm candlelight casting a golden glow to your features as you explain your situation and plead for a spare room. It is endearing, to see you practically begging. Your hands wrap around the cup of tea I brought to you, your cloak still wrapped tightly around you. With the fire running, I can already see the beads of sweat rolling down your forehead.

You are the image of loveliness. So shy, so sweet, so embarrassed to be asking for a favour. 

“Of course you can have a room,” I say with a smile, and you beam in response, gratefully setting the cup down and clasping your hands together. 

“Thank you so much.”

I wave a hand with a smile, eyes flickering over your pretty eyes, and your lips, shiny from when your tongue has darted out to lick them. Nerves, I suppose – you are in a stranger’s home, after all. “Why were you all by yourself on such a dark evening?”

You explain your small journey to the market, bashfully eyeing the ground. “It’s embarrassing, having gotten lost so easily.”

“In your defense, it is very difficult to navigate when the sun sets as early as it does now.”

Your lips curl up. “Have you ever gotten lost in these parts?”

I shrug, spreading my arms along the arms of my chair, crossing one leg over the other. “No. But, I have lived in this home for many years. It is only natural that I would know these parts well.”

“How long have you resided here?”

I pause, tilting my head at you. “Perhaps ten years. Though, in the last two or three years, I’ve come to accept that I will spend many decades here, most likely.”

You took a small sip of your tea, eyes watching me through your lashes. Such endearing eyes they are, so attentive in their watching of me. “Do you live here alone?”

I nod. “Yes, I acquired the property from a relative who left it to me in their will.”

“You alone, in this large home, with nothing but hills upon hills for miles…” you drifted off, eyes scanning the ceiling above us and the detailed artwork that coats it. “It sounds rather lonely.”

I smirk at your kind sympathy, and lift my leg off from the other, spreading them out and bracing my elbows on them, leaning forward. “You’re very kind, miss, but I quite like my arrangement.”

I can hear the gulping noise from your throat when you swallow. Once again, your lips part to swipe your pretty, pink tongue along them, getting them slick and wet with spit. You release a heavy, trembling breath at my sudden proximity and close gaze. “Um, why is that?”

“It affords me the privacy I need to… entertain any guests,” I say lowly, nearly chuckling when your eyes widen, blinking fast at my insinuation. You press your lips together, moving them slowly, and I can sense the hesitation you feel, eyes flickering between myself and your lap.

And yes, your lap. From here, I can see your legs moving closer together, squeezing, thighs probably pressed against what lies between them. Your pretty fingers fist into the fabric of your clothes, teeth sinking into your bottom lip as you raise your eyes to meet mine. “What room would you propose I take?”

I cock my head to the door behind you, leaning back into my seat. So, it seems that you perhaps are interested, but do not desire to go further. I would not push it. “The South Quarters will be the warmest.”

“What quarters are your room in?” you ask quietly, eyes narrowed on your hands.

“North,” I mutter, taking a sip of my tea, raising an eyebrow from the question.

You hook your bottom lip in your teeth again. I can feel myself throb at the action, your lips so pretty and practically aching to be sucked on until they’re swollen. I can just picture biting into your plush bottom lip, toying with it lightly, sinking into them a bit deeper, sucking and running my tongue along to soothe it. Would you make any noises? Would you gasp, moan? Whimper softly? Or squeak in surprise?

My internal questions cease when you finally speak. “May I take a room in the North quarters?”

I can practically smell the arousal from you, dripping from your pussy and pooling where your underclothes are. It makes me mull on what kind of thoughts must be running through your mind, and how long they’ve been occupying you if you’re this wet already. It’s a heady, strong scent that all of a sudden kills the ability to focus on anything other than how much you deserve to be taken care of. My nostrils flare at the scent, and all of a sudden, I can just picture being nose deep in your cunt, breathing you in, letting your scent get sucked in, burying my tongue in you and watching you fight the urge to look down at me. 

Your legs are still locked together, knees rubbing, and once again, you wet those pretty lips, maintaining eye contact with me as you do. It’s difficult to determine whether the action is unintentional, or if you’re truly becoming aware of the way my fingers dig into the arms of the chair, or the way I spread my legs just a little bit further, desperate to have you sit on my lap.

Before any of that can happen, however, I steadily say, keeping my tone levelled and kind, “There is no need to owe me anything for letting you stay the night. You can truly have whichever room you desire, and we can retire separately.”

A tiny whimper is your response, the noise coming from somewhere deep and tight in your throat, the noise gentle and soft enough that you probably believe that the cough you give afterwards is enough to hide it. Unfortunately for you, though, you are completely unaware of how clear the noise was to my ears. How I cannot even dream of letting such a lovely noise escape me. So delicate, so unintentional, so shy, yet so telling of everything you want tonight. After your adorable little coughing fit comes to an end, you quietly say, eyes focused on the ruffled collar of my shirt. “I know. I did not ask for a room in the North quarters due to a sense of obligation or owing you.”

You lower your gaze bashfully, and it makes me wonder what it would feel like to directly meet it amongst all kinds of angles. When you’re on your knees for me, those pink, pretty lips wrapped around my fingers, or a part even lower. When my face is tucked in between your thighs, and you’re staring down at me. When my forehead is pressed against yours, eyes frozen on yours as I inch in–

I clear my throat, rising to my feet and sauntering to where you sit. Your eyes flicker over me, and I can hear how your heart begins to pump faster. Once I’m just a pace in front of you, looking down at your nervous, timid expression, I quietly ask, “Then, why are you asking for one?”

Your mouth twists and curls, nervousness clearly holding you back from answering. My fingers twitch, pausing momentarily, before I place a gentle palm on your cheek. You lean into it naturally, as though your bodily instincts possessed no other possible reaction, and I stroke my thumb against the texture of your skin, back and forth, lulling you into comfort. “Tell me.”

You clear your throat, and I can feel your skin heat beneath my fingers. “I want to know… how you entertain your guests.”

I suck in a deep breath, pleasure surging through me at your answer. My eyes wander to your lips, which part with a quiet wet noise, eager to take in whatever I have to offer. Just the mere motion is enough to send my cock stirring. I stroke my thumb across the corner of your mouth, nearly shuddering at the smooth softness of your lips, the tip getting coated in the inner wetness of your mouth, which widens further. I dip my thumb in deeper, going slow and holding back on my eagerness. When the rough pad meets your tongue, I swallow hard, nearly groaning when your mouth puckers and tightens over my finger, beginning to gently suck, eyes fluttering shut. When I push more, a high whine comes from you, your hand moving to gently grip my wrist as I continue to fuck into your mouth. 

Maybe without even realizing, you start to move your hips forward and back, humping the cushion you sit upon, trying to get any friction possible on your pussy. The sight does nothing to quell my arousal, which is becoming hard to ignore the more you make those depraved, desperate noises.

I slip my thumb from your mouth, and you barely get to cry out in protest before my mouth is on yours, fingers gripping your cheeks and coaxing you to open up. You do with a loud, muffled moan, which morphs into a surprised gasp when my tongue slips in. Your clear inexperience leaves you clumsily reacting to the contact, your own tongue moving and twitching in abrupt directions. I slow down the pace of the kiss, getting to my knees in front of you and curling my hand against the fluttering hairs of your neck, my tongue slowly massaging yours. Within a few moments, I can hear your heartbeat steadying, and you begin to grow confident with the motions of the kiss, your own movements becoming bolder as you prod your tongue further against mine, curling and licking. My other arm curves around your waist, pushing you closer to me. Your legs spread to let me rest in the gap between them, and I grip your dress tightly when I feel the mounds of your breasts against me. 

I part from you, my lips diving to your neck, latching onto your pulse point and sucking hard. Your hands fly to my back, nails digging in harder as I skim my teeth along the sensitive patch of skin. I can begin to feel it, an entirely different, but oh-so familiar urge warming within me, making a home the longer I inhale the scent of the sweat lining on your neck and dripping between your breasts. The urge to take something from you and corrupt you in a way that’s completely different from sinking my cock into you. The urge to bite, and suck, and claim you. It was usually a desire I kept at bay, taking precautionary measures with in order to avoid any sort of hasty decisions during such encounters. But, with you, and your sweet scent and bashful eyes, the urge to taste what ran through your veins was raging within me. 

I move from your neck, hoping to distract myself. I brush my fingers against the knot of your cloak, and with a small nod from you, untie it. It pools against the chair, and my eyes immediately fall to your heaving chest, just the faintest bit of cleavage exposed from your modest dress. I duck down, your hands going to my hair and tightly pulling when I run my tongue along the exposed valley, goosebumps erupting on your chest. 

I feel another tug, and suddenly, my head is being yanked back. I watch in confusion as you let go after such a harsh pull, for your face is hot with desire, eyes wide, lips wet and tongue nearly hanging out. You shift your gaze down, avoiding me as your arms work back, beginning to undo your dress. I lick my lips in anticipation, trying not to lunge and do it myself. 

You peel off the fabric, letting the top part of it crumple and hug your hips, exposing your entire torso to me in the golden light of the fire. I’m nearly speechless at the sight of your breasts, the only thing certain in my mind being that I rightfully do belong on my knees at this moment. 

You’re tugging on your bottom lip again, arms awkwardly pressing against your sides, which only pushes your breasts together even more. Your eyes wander slowly to my face, looking at me through your lashes with both lust and curiosity. “Do you like… them?”

I cannot help but chuckle at the question. “Is it even necessary to ask me that? All I can think of right now is everything I want to do to you.”

Your legs suddenly tighten together again. “I have only done this sort of thing once or twice. I’m afraid I’m not very experienced.”

I stand to my feet and extend my hand to you. “Don’t fret. We’ll have you well-practiced in no time.”

You shakily take it, and let me lead you to the North wing.

Immediately, once we are in my bed chambers, I lay you on the thick, patterned blankets, your hair resting upon the hills of pillows. Your chest rises and falls heavily, and my eyes greedily drink up the sight of your breasts. I ignore my near-to-feral needs and loosen my collar for comfort’s sake as you eagerly watch. This time, when you rub your legs together, a wet squelch can be heard and your face scrunches up in embarrassment when I raise an eyebrow. 

I step forward, hooking my fingers around the fabric bunched at your hips. With a meek nod from you, I pull it down, tugging down on your undergarments as I make my way to your feet. 

Finally, you’re clad in nothing but desire, wetness already apparent on the curls surrounding your pussy. Your thighs are aching for my fingers to bruise them, your hips begging for me to squeeze them, and your entire body ready to be worshipped. And still, such a silly girl you are, whimpering under the heat of my stare.

With a smirk, I’m crawling over your body, lowering myself for one long, wet kiss, your lips chasing mine as I back away. In the cold chill of my room, even with the fire, your body is more sensitive than before, nipples hard and perked up. I ghost the tips of my fingers around them, eyeing your every twitch and squeeze. Your body fidgets and thrusts against the air under mine, clearly aching for something more than the brief, whispering touches I’m giving to your breasts. 

I stick my tongue out and flick it against one. Your moan is high and keening.

“Beg me for more,” I murmur, going back to circling with my fingers.

You choke out a cry before folding your lips together. “Please…”

“Please what?”

“I–I can’t,” you moan. “It’s too embarrassing, too shameful.”

I flatten my tongue, dragging it long and hard against the hard bud, sending you trembling beneath me. “If your body craves it this bad, it can’t be too shameful, hm? Why hold back now when you’re so close to getting what you want?”

Your fingers squeeze around the sheets, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. “I… Please, I want your mouth on my breasts. I want you to touch me… roughly. Without hesitation.”

I laugh softly, squeezing your breasts with my hands as I finally close my mouth around one, licking abrasively against your tight nipple. Your body arches into my mouth, wails falling from your lips as I flick the tip of my tongue against the sensitive little nub before closing my lips around it and sucking hard. Your hips meet my clothed thigh and you begin to thrust half-mindedly, clearly trying to find some touch for your poor, neglected clit. I press my leg further into you, giving into your needs and letting you use my body to get off. I switch to your other breast, gliding my teeth against your nipples, then licking around the bump of it to soothe the sting, the sensation of it only sending more wetness coating my slacks. Feeling it hit my skin sends a burst of lust through me, and I start pressing hot, needy kisses down your stomach. You whine at the loss of my thigh, but I hush you quietly. “I’ll be taking care of you soon enough, my love.”

Your hips buck up at the promise, encouraging me to move faster until my face is finally in front of your sopping, swollen cunt. I glance at your face, my mouth twitching at the sight of you focused on the ceiling, clearly too embarrassed to watch my ministrations. But, it’s okay. I know you’ll eventually look.

I slide my arms under your thighs, pressing a kiss to one. “Please, will you open up for me?”

With a small noise, you nod, spreading your legs further until your pussy is on full display. I curse under my breath at the sight of it. I knew you’d be wet, but God, not like this. Your inner thighs are smeared with your juices, and your folds practically sheen with them. I touch two fingers to your lips, a soft gasp above me from the contact. And when I spread them, I’m licking my lips at the sight of your clit, which is jutting from under the hood, begging and desperate to be toyed with. 

I press my face into the wetness, inhaling a deep breath of your scent. A shaky cry erupts from you, and I move my nose in deeper, rubbing it against that spot right below your clit, sucking in that smell as much as I can. The urge, the one I was trying to escape from, was back, but it couldn’t matter less to me. I needed to ravage you.

I stick my tongue out, and while still deep in your cunt, I begin roughly licking you all over, sliding my tongue against your folds without relent before I reach to your clit and begin lapping at it like a person starved. I lick and lick without cease, diving into your hole and beginning to fuck you with my tongue. Your thighs shake against my head, moans and cries tumbling from those fuckable lips of yours. One hand grips the sheets, while the other curls into my hair and keeps me in place as I bob my head against your pussy, pushing my tongue in and out as fast as I can, as fast as my cock would drill into you. Your legs close against my ears, breathily saying, “Please, please, more, I just…”

I stop momentarily, feeling the cool air hit the wetness coating my chin and cheeks. “You just what?”

“I just need to come,” you sob, hips beginning to bounce on the bed from the lack of touch. “Please, please, I just, ah, God…”

Your pleas drift into the air as I get my mouth back on you, softly kissing across your entire pussy, taking my time to savour it before giving you what you need. My lips soak in your wetness, sticky and tangy, as they flatten against every inch of your folds, impatiently seizing the taste of everything you had to offer. I sigh into your cunt, praising whatever ounce of fate led you to my doorstep tonight. I finally press a tender kiss to your bulging clit, my lips perfectly hugging the round shape of it. You shudder above me, back arching and giving me the perfect view of your breasts. 

I tighten the grip of my lips on your clit and start sucking, slowly, with all the intention of exploration. I squeeze my arms around your thighs, pulling you closer to my face, as in and out, my lips grip then let go of your sweet clit. Your hand brushes my hair from my face, and I find you looking down upon me, your eyes watering and mouth forming the prettiest O, as you pant and brokenly gasp whenever I suck harder. It makes me only intensify what I’m doing, my lips beginning to tug your clit into my mouth at longer and harder intervals, putting enough pressure on that sweet spot until you’re shifting under me. And when you do, I stick my tongue out and start stroking it flatly up and down the stiff shape of it, which sends you eagerly pushing your cunt in my face.

I can feel it, hear it. Your breaths begin to come out faster and sharper, the wetness of your hole begins to leak against my tongue more, and your body heats up under my palms. I focus on what brings out the loudest noises in you, closing my eyes in concentration as I continue to apply short, stinging sucks to your clit. When I linger on one, my lips latched onto it for two moments longer, my tongue poking out to flick at it, your thighs clench and flex under my hands, your entire body shaking in one heavy wave as you release a string of cries. I moan at the sight of you, twisting and sensitive under my touch, the sensation sending your feet pressing against my back.

I continue to softly play with your clit, humming against it as your breath evens out. When you tap my head, I release with a soft pop, watching you the entire way through. 

You whimper, biting your lip.

“What is it?” I ask, wiping the back of my hand against my dripping chin.

“You’re looking at me like I’m something to eat.”

I laugh. “You have no idea.”

[fear-less]

₊˚⊹˚ 𐙚 puff was so good please write more with this prompt I am begging bro 😭🙏

₊˚⊹˚ 𐙚 froggy meetings

paring: sirius black x f!reader

➥ In which,Sirius Black chases you across the Hogwarts grounds with a frog on your head, only to realize he's fallen for your brilliant chaos.

warnings: reader is a gryffindor (not mentioned but yeah), fluff ofc, whole lotta nonsense, reader is a #yapper, sirius realizing his feelings, reader seems more interested in frogs than sirius lmao

2.2K words 

Sirius Black didn’t think he’d ever be willing Sirius Black never imagined he’d find himself chasing someone through the Hogwarts grounds with a frog perched precariously on their head, but life had a way of surprising him. In fairness, he should have known better the moment you stood in the Gryffindor common room, arms spread wide like a conductor about to lead a symphony, and declared at full volume that the Guardian of Puddles had made an urgent pilgrimage to the Great Lake.

Most of the common room had ignored you, accustomed to your antics, but Sirius—Sirius never ignored you. So, naturally, here he was, trudging after you under the moonlit sky, with James’s laughter fading in the background and a lingering promise to “write this one down for posterity” following his retreat.

“Do you even know where you’re going?” Sirius called out as you darted ahead, your pace set somewhere between a dramatic march and a full-on sprint. He quickened his steps, not quite running but definitely jogging to keep up.

“Do you think the Guardian of Puddles questions where the puddles are?” you shot back over your shoulder, your tone dripping with mock indignation. To emphasize your point, you spun around mid-stride, arms flung out like you were addressing an invisible crowd. The frog atop your head wobbled precariously but stayed put, giving an almost affronted croak at Sirius’s doubt.

Sirius rolled his eyes, but the smirk tugging at his lips betrayed him. “Right. Silly me for doubting the omniscient powers of puddles.”

“Exactly,” you said with a grin, spinning back around to face the path ahead. “Glad to see you’re catching on.”

The two of you continued your peculiar journey across the grounds, the castle shrinking behind you as the sprawling Great Lake came into view. Its surface glimmered like liquid silver under the starlight, the soft rustling of the trees and distant hoots of owls blending into the faint lapping of water against the shore.

You came to an abrupt halt at the lake’s edge, and Sirius had to swerve to avoid barreling straight into you. For a moment, neither of you spoke, your gaze fixed on the vast expanse of water before you. Sirius followed your line of sight, his breath misting faintly in the cool night air.

“Now,” you began, breaking the silence, “this is where the real magic happens. The Guardian of Puddles will commune with the underwater realms, and together, we shall uncover truths that have been hidden from humankind for millennia.”

Sirius raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms as he tilted his head to look at you. “Bold claims,” he said, his tone dry but amused. “What kind of truths are we talking about here? Winning lottery numbers? The secret to James finally getting Lily to say yes?”

You ignored him with the flair of someone entirely above such petty questions, crouching low to the ground with a reverence that made Sirius pause. Gently, you lifted the frog from your head, cradling it in your hands like it was a sacred artifact. Your expression softened in a way that caught Sirius off guard, your usual mischief tempered by something quieter, almost tender.

He knelt beside you, his earlier teasing forgotten as he watched you place the frog on a flat rock near the water’s edge. The creature croaked once, then settled, its bulbous eyes fixed on the shimmering lake ahead as if it truly was about to deliver profound wisdom.

Sirius Black never imagined he’d find himself chasing someone through the Hogwarts grounds with a frog perched precariously on their head, but life had a way of surprising him. In fairness, he should have known better the moment you stood in the Gryffindor common room, arms spread wide like a conductor about to lead a symphony, and declared at full volume that the Guardian of Puddles had an urgent pilgrimage to the Great Lake.

Most of the common room had ignored you, accustomed to your antics, but Sirius—Sirius never ignored you. So, naturally, here he was, trudging after you under the moonlit sky, with James’s laughter fading in the background and a lingering promise to “write this one down for posterity” following his retreat.

“Do you even know where you’re going?” Sirius called out as you darted ahead, your pace set somewhere between a dramatic march and a full-on sprint. He quickened his steps, not quite running but definitely jogging to keep up.

“Do you think the Guardian of Puddles questions where the puddles are?” you shot back over your shoulder, your tone dripping with mock indignation. To emphasize your point, you spun around mid-stride, arms flung out like you were addressing an invisible crowd. The frog atop your head wobbled precariously but stayed put, giving an almost affronted croak at Sirius’s doubt.

Sirius rolled his eyes, but the smirk tugging at his lips betrayed him. “Right. Silly me for doubting the omniscient powers of puddles.”

“Exactly,” you said with a grin, spinning back around to face the path ahead. “Glad to see you’re catching on.”

The two of you continued your peculiar journey across the grounds, the castle shrinking behind you as the sprawling Great Lake came into view. Its surface glimmered like liquid silver under the starlight, the soft rustling of the trees and distant hoots of owls blending into the faint lapping of water against the shore.

You came to an abrupt halt at the lake’s edge, and Sirius had to swerve to avoid barreling straight into you. For a moment, neither of you spoke, your gaze fixed on the vast expanse of water before you. Sirius followed your line of sight, his breath misting faintly in the cool night air.

“Now,” you began, breaking the silence, “this is where the real magic happens. The Guardian of Puddles will commune with the underwater realms, and together, we shall uncover truths that have been hidden from humankind for millennia.”

Sirius raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms as he tilted his head to look at you. “Bold claims,” he said, his tone dry but amused. “What kind of truths are we talking about here? Winning lottery numbers? The secret to James finally getting Lily to say yes?”

You ignored him with the flair of someone entirely above such petty questions, crouching low to the ground with a reverence that made Sirius pause. Gently, you lifted the frog from your head, cradling it in your hands like it was a sacred artifact. Your expression softened in a way that caught Sirius off guard, your usual mischief tempered by something quieter, almost tender.

He knelt beside you, his earlier teasing forgotten as he watched you place the frog on a flat rock near the water’s edge. The creature croaked once, then settled, its bulbous eyes fixed on the shimmering lake ahead as if it truly was about to deliver profound wisdom.

“What’s it saying?” Sirius asked, his voice dipping into a whisper as though afraid to disturb the moment.

You tilted your head, feigning deep concentration. “Shhh,” you hissed, holding up a hand. “It’s complicated. Frogs speak in riddles.”

“Do they now?” Sirius’s lips quivered into a grin, but he stayed quiet, indulging you.

“Absolutely,” you replied with utmost seriousness. Then, after a dramatic pause, you turned to him, your expression grave. “It says you’re far too cocky for your own good.”

“Does it?” Sirius shot back, his grin widening. “Anything else, or is that the extent of its divine insight?”

You nodded solemnly, gesturing toward the frog as though it had just delivered a revelation of world-altering importance. “It also says you should stop underestimating the power of puddles. They hold entire worlds, Sirius. Entire. Worlds.”

This time, Sirius couldn’t contain his laugh, the sound bright and warm in the stillness of the night. “You’re ridiculous,” he said, shaking his head. “Absolutely ridiculous.”

“Ridiculously brilliant,” you corrected, your eyes gleaming with mischief.

“Sure,” he conceded, still chuckling. “Let’s go with that.”

The frog croaked again, louder this time, and the two of you turned to look at it. For a moment, the banter fell away, replaced by a quiet stillness. The lake’s rippling surface seemed to stretch endlessly before you, its edges fading into the shadows of the distant shore. Sirius found himself glancing back at you—not for the first time tonight, but this time, he really looked.

There was something about the way the moonlight caught your face, highlighting the curve of your smile and the way your eyes sparkled with that strange, otherworldly curiosity. It was the kind of expression that made Sirius’s chest tighten, though he wouldn’t admit it out loud.

“Hey,” he said softly, breaking the silence. “Do you ever stop to think that maybe you’re the one with all the magic? Not the frog.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the sudden sincerity in his tone. For a second, your usual bravado faltered, replaced by something quieter, almost shy. Then you smiled—soft, bright, and undeniably you.

“Maybe,” you said lightly, though your voice held a warmth that made Sirius’s heart stutter. “But if I am, I’m still keeping the frog. He’s an excellent sidekick.”

Sirius grinned, leaning back on his heels. “Fair enough. But if you ever need a co-pilot for your puddle adventures, let me know.”

You pretended to consider it, tapping your chin thoughtfully. “Hmm. Only if you promise to keep up.”

“Oh, I’ll keep up,” Sirius said, standing and offering you a hand. “You just make sure to lead the way.”

You took his hand, letting him pull you to your feet. The frog croaked its approval, hopping closer to the water’s edge as though ready to resume its role as the enigmatic guide to your peculiar mission.

Together, you stood side by side, gazing out at the vast expanse of the lake. The world felt a little quieter, a little more magical, as though the absurdity of the moment had cracked open something deeper—a promise of adventures yet to come, and perhaps something more.

You tilted your head, feigning deep concentration. “Shhh,” you hissed, holding up a hand. “It’s complicated. Frogs speak in riddles.”

“Do they now?” Sirius’s lips quivered into a grin, but he stayed quiet, indulging you.

“Absolutely,” you replied with utmost seriousness. Then, after a dramatic pause, you turned to him, your expression grave. “It says you’re far too cocky for your own good.”

“Does it?” Sirius shot back, his grin widening. “Anything else, or is that the extent of its divine insight?”

You nodded solemnly, gesturing toward the frog as though it had just delivered a revelation of world-altering importance. “It also says you should stop underestimating the power of puddles. They hold entire worlds, Sirius. Entire. Worlds.”

This time, Sirius couldn’t contain his laugh, the sound bright and warm in the stillness of the night. “You’re ridiculous,” he said, shaking his head. “Absolutely ridiculous.”

“Ridiculously brilliant,” you corrected, your eyes gleaming with mischief.

“Sure,” he conceded, still chuckling. “Let’s go with that.”

The frog croaked again, louder this time, and the two of you turned to look at it. For a moment, the banter fell away, replaced by a quiet stillness. The lake’s rippling surface seemed to stretch endlessly before you, its edges fading into the shadows of the distant shore. Sirius found himself glancing back at you—not for the first time tonight, but this time, he really looked.

There was something about the way the moonlight caught your face, highlighting the curve of your smile and the way your eyes sparkled with that strange, otherworldly curiosity. It was the kind of expression that made Sirius’s chest tighten, though he wouldn’t admit it out loud.

“Hey,” he said softly, breaking the silence. “Do you ever stop to think that maybe you’re the one with all the magic? Not the frog.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the sudden sincerity in his tone. For a second, your usual bravado faltered, replaced by something quieter, almost shy. Then you smiled—soft, bright, and undeniably you.

“Maybe,” you said lightly, though your voice held a warmth that made Sirius’s heart stutter. “But if I am, I’m still keeping the frog. He’s an excellent sidekick.”

Sirius grinned, leaning back on his heels. “Fair enough. But if you ever need a co-pilot for your puddle adventures, let me know.”

You pretended to consider it, tapping your chin thoughtfully. “Hmm. Only if you promise to keep up.”

“Oh, I’ll keep up,” Sirius said, standing and offering you a hand. “You just make sure to lead the way.”

You took his hand, letting him pull you to your feet. The frog croaked its approval, hopping closer to the water’s edge as though ready to resume its role as the enigmatic guide to your peculiar mission.

Together, you stood side by side, gazing out at the vast expanse of the lake. The world felt a little quieter, a little more magical, as though the absurdity of the moment had cracked open something deeper—a promise of adventures yet to come, and perhaps something more.

[reddesires]

Hello! Newer follower here, just wanted to say your writing is amazing! So happy I came across your page! 🫶

Would love to request Noa x human female reader, maybe Noa courting (or trying to court) her?

Courting Headcanons [Noa x Human!Reader]

Noa x Human!Reader

Fandom: (Kingdom Of The) Planet Of The Apes

Rating: No warnings.

A/N: *elegantly opens platter* Your meal of scrumptious Noa courting headcanons with a side of oblivious reader lol thank you for the request, I look forward to providing more in the future 💓

• Noa is very inexperienced in the ways of love. He's not only inexperienced in the courting acts of his clan, but he has no idea what humans would consider as a potential mate.

•The first step to the courting process for him would be to receive his mother's blessing, he's obviously very nervous and conscientious when bringing the matter up to her (hes very much a mama's boy) She ofc is very accepting in his choice of mate.

•He'll start providing you with anything possible, accessories, food, or even small trinkets he makes on his downtime. He's not only trying to display his usefulness as a mate, but it's a natural primal instinct to want to provide for his potential future mate.

•He'll scent mark you by barely just grazing you with his own body, you're unaware he's even doing this but everyone in the clan is very much aware of his scent clinging to you as walk through the camp

•He's made it his life's mission to get you alone every chance he can get, quality time with you not only boosts his chances of being your potential mate but shows that he can truly dedicate his time to you and future kin (he's also head over heels for you and can't get enough of your company).

•He puts on displays of being strong around you and he's unsure if you truly understand his intentions of him showing off his strength (he refuses to be discouraged by your lack of response, it only motivates him to show that he can protect you as your mate).

•Very very VERY protective of you, it's almost like he can't bear the thought of you being out of his sight and he'll just about drop everything if your intending to wander outside of the clans parameters (you put this off as him being worried that you'll encounter something dangerous, running into an ape outside of the eagle clan is a risk not worth taking)

•Insists you accompany him to the eagle nests in the high tree, you're pretty nervous being in such crucial space. The eagle clan dedicates a lot of their time and effort into their eagles, and you find it the most admirable trait of theirs. Noa watches you with a gentle expression as you softly scratch the underside of Eagle Sun's neck, his feather puffing in response with a content chirp.

•Asks you if he can intertwine Eagle Sun's azure feather into your hair and is filled with pride when you openly accept, your expression wondrous and content at the beautiful feather braided into your hair (Noa preening at the display, this entire interaction happening infront of Soona and Anaya, their mouths falling into an 'O' and excited quiet hoots escaping them).

•You being entirely OBLIVIOUS to all the courting acts that Noa has been throwing at you before Soona made you aware, your brain just short circuiting with embarrassment before just bolting off to find Noa.

•Him already on trail to you for another day of courting before you absolutely bombard onto him with vigor. "Noa! I didn't know!"

•You grabbing his face into your hand as you pull him into you, kissing your foreheads together, beaming in absolute happiness at his prospect. Noa responding immediately in kind relieved that you finally accepted.

•Finally your Mates.