#that guy ruined so much 😂

[ladymirdan]

What's your earliest memory of 40k? First model, first release you remember, first bit of media?

My first memory of 40k is being over at a friend's house and my friend's big brother is painting up orks. I thing I was about 8 years old.

I have no idea what is going on, but everything looked so cool, and he and his friends pretended to voice the characters and everything. I have a core memory of licking brushes and those black GW transport bags, and I just knew I wanted all of it.

Then years go by, im 14 and finally have my own allowance. Im visiting my local games store who is going out of sale and everything in the store is 10sek (about 1$)

I see this wall of blisterpacks and I just grab everything I liked. So many pretty little minis. The guy at the counter tells me about the offial GW store who has more stuff, its just down the street.

I go there and show my haul and buy a codex and some core troops.

This wasnt for 40k tho, but warhammer fantasy. Turns out that almost every single model I picked on random was a dark elf (and two beastmen), so yes, I got Malekith on a fucking dragon for 1$.

I find out some friends play it at my school and I play a bit with them, but lets face it. Dark Elves was a hard army to ply back in 6th edition. Absolute glass cannons, and for the moat part I lost and got mad 😂

I start hanging out a lot at a FLGS and play there a lot. It is here I become obsessed with lore stuff. There werent that many books back then but I devoured them. And I got a ton of codices, new and old, just to read the fluff. And I buy a bunch of second hand White dwarf.

In one of the magazines I see the Drukhari (dark eldar back then) and I'm in love. The old minis were so spooky and beautiful and I want them.

But the guy in the store goes, “Don't buy dark Eldar. They suck. Buy Eldar instead, you love Khaine, and so do they. Eldar in 40k is basically if the dark elves won back Ulthuan”

I promptly become so offended over the fact I'm being offered “High elves”, and in my eternal hatred swear to disavow 40k forever. And I do. Until 2020. Covid has just locked down everything (exept for my job because im essential), but all I have to do in my spare time is to watch youtube and rot.

And youtube is spamming me with Warhammer stuff, and I have a sudden burst of nostalgia after all these years and I start looking at models. It was extremely easy to get into the lore because WHFB and 40k had such a huge overlap int themes and tropes, and I already knew what authors I would like and such.

And that is how I got a Night Lord army for 30k. The minis are so spooky and cool, and I wanted to learn more about them. I started reading about space marines and how the imperium is so whacky and fun, so I bought some Imperial Fists, but there is so little lore about them, so I headed back to my Nightlords.

But then, I pick up and read Unremembered Empire, because I got told Curze is an absolute beast in that book.

And now I play Ultramarines.

[marimbles]

i miss carpisuns sometimes </3

[lunar-years]

New 1989 outfit is fugly (I’m so sorry Taylor) but very reminiscent of 1989 tour (when many of the costumes were indeed also fugly 🫡)

The acoustic set outfit is also worse :(

Combining folklore and evermore is meh tbh like I don’t love that at all but I also completely see why it had to be done

I stared at the “this is not Taylor’s Version” t shirt for an embarrassingly long amount of time trying to figure out what on earth she was trying to say and I still think it’s not something that makes much sense out of context/accompanied by a side explanation and it was a weird choice for the shirt lmao.

ttpd set goes incredibly hard 100/10 NO NOTES.

her coming out in that same freaking reputation jumpsuit after changing every other outfit in the show was peak comedy (she’s so funny and we can never talk about that enough)

the entire shape of the show has changed imho so I think it’s fair for fans to be sad about missing last years half or missing this years half or about not getting to see certain songs or about not getting tickets at all to a show that was incredibly difficult and expensive to get tickets to in the first place. It feels like two separate shows. And we are allowed to express sadness or fomo without being dubbed immediately ungrateful/bad fans (obviously there’s a limit and legitimately complaining/getting mad at Taylor for doing her own show how she wants to do it/threatening to no longer go [lol, plenty of fans are in line to take your tickets] is goofy deadass, but)

I do wish she’d just done a separate ttpd tour (even if we had to wait several years and the tour was combined between ttpd and the next potential album) but I can also recognize that I’m mostly saying that because of how desperately I want to hear ttpd songs live and the knowledge I won’t be able to

I also think her deciding to add it now, combined with the general length and scope of eras tour, is evidence that she is planning to take a long break from touring once it’s over (NOT in the weird ‘she’s going to retire to have babies’ way!!! Just in an ‘I think she’s planning to take a touring break’ straightforward way)

I’ve seen some people already taking the transition from but daddy I love him into so high school as confirmation that their theory that the last verse is actually about Travis is correct. But as someone with song literacy, I merely take it as confirmation that Taylor saw the theory, thought it worked fabulously, and enjoys retconning her own songs to aid her own whims and happiness (which is so beyond real of her and also incredibly funny)

Playing so high school as the only anthology song for kicks and giggles was so cute of her she’s down soooo bad for that man

Midnights body suit is hotter than ever and she herself is also hotter than ever

Loml as the surprise song at THAT show after I’d made that post….you have to laugh LOL 🙃

If anyone has near face value tickets for sale for USA or Canada shows later this year I will genuinely offer you my firstborn child plus the money in exchange god bless

[evansbby]

okay nobody cares and it’s not that deep but

[r0semultiverse]

I can’t believe the entire reason demons in Demon Slayer exist is because of magical prion disease that some random guy concocted while fucking around with experimental medicine.

[guinevereslancelot]

guy on my date last night said he doesn't really like batman......is that forgivable 🤔

[mauvecherie-writes]

save a horse, ride a driver: l.hamilton

pairing: lewis hamilton x black!reader

summary: there was no way you were letting lewis leave the hotel room looking the way he did without taking a spin first. [shoutout to my fren for this summary 😂]

tags: 18+ NSFW, MDNI, sexual content, pwp, oral [m] receiving, unprotected penetrative sex, dirty talk, spanking, slight choking, slight dom!lewis, breeding kink if you squint.

notes: today really ruined me guys 🫠. I wrote this in a few hours lmao. This is for the nasty girls like me going through ovulation and were left feeling wrecked by this man. NOT EDITED

w.c: 1.8K

reading list: @queenshikongo3 @dhlfastestlap @saintslewis @serpenttines-library @saturnville @hopefulromantic1 @cocobutterqwueen @bluesole16 @chaneajoyyy @emjayewrites @melodichaeuxx-lacritquexx @sapphireheaven @olyvoyl @lewisroscoelove @lh44adore @hellomadamebutterfly @scorpiobleue @qveenmelanink @tremendousstarlighttragedy @bekindbecoolbeyou @greedyjudge2 @itsapurrfectstorm @createdbylivingclocks @samiwzx @omgsuperstarg @peyiswriting @miyuhpapayuh @blowmymbackout @purplelewlew @henneseyhoe @xoscar03 @perfecttrashface @saturnville

Having some time off from work, you had decided to join your boyfriend in Monaco for the long race weekend. It was only Thursday so there was no need for you to accompany him to the trac with him. You were going to stay at the hotel and utilize their spa facilities before preparing for dinner with Lewis later.

As you finished using the bathroom, you could hear his team packing their belongings and leaving the room. Lewis had about another hour free before he needed to leave for the circuit if he wanted to be on time. This was the time, if you were together, you would share breakfast.

You walked out to the living room area and stopped dead in your stride when you saw Lewis standing in front of the mirror as he fixed his braids into a low bun.

“Holy shit.” The words slid out of your mouth as you gaped at him. He was dressed in an extremely low v-neck pale blue cashmere cardigan which left the golden brown of his tattooed chest exposed paired with wheat coloured waist fitted linen trousers. He wasn’t wearing the custom Dior sneakers just yet but the jewellery that had been laid out last night were now in the right places.

Lewis was a man of fashion, a common interest that had connected the both of you but it was days like this that reminded you how a well put outfit enhanced his beauty to another level. It amazed you how much his dress sense managed to raise your arousal.

He turned around to face you with a genuine smile that quickly transitioned into a smirk when he saw the glint of lust in your eyes.

”Hi baby.” He greeted you before walking to sit on the couch.

“Where do you think you’re going, looking like that?” You asked as you crossed the room.

“Like what?” He chuckled as he furrowed his eyebrows in slight confusion.

“Like a slut! Who are you tryna get, looking this good.” A deep laugh burst from his chest as a light rosy tint touched his cheeks. He was used to your peculiar way of complimenting him but there were times where the comment would make his insides melt. He was a grown man and you still had the ability to make him weak in the knees with your unbridled attention.

“This is only for you baby.” Lewis spoke, gesturing to his body. “I’m all yours and only yours.”

“Looking like a five course meal and I’m ready to eat.” You said licking your lips before you dropped to your knees in front of him, between his legs. He looked down at you as you looked up at him, massaging his thighs and he knew what you were intending to do.

“Sweetheart, you know I need to be leaving soon.” He mumbled as he leaned down and pecked your lips

“Being late has never stopped you before.” You were rubbing your palm against his hardening dick beneath the fabric of his trousers. Lewis’s eyes fluttered close as he tried to be rational. You knew that he didn’t need to be so early, the circuit was a team minute boat ride - if need be, they’d wait for him.

“I’m not letting you leave this room without a taste. Let me enjoy you first before anyone else.” Whatever front that he had been attempting to put up, fell.

“You’re such a spoiled brat.” He sighed as he leaned back and placed his right arm on top of the couch. His other hand came to stroke the side of your cheek. He gazed down at you as he pressed his thumb against your lips. Once he slid his thumb into your mouth, you didn’t hesitate to wrap your tongue around the digit and suck on it hard.

Your eyes never left his as you moaned around his thumb, suctioning your cheeks as you would around his cock.

“Look at you, my pretty girl. You want it bad huh?” He softly spoke but the flare of his nose and the hardening of his dick under your touch showed how he was really feeling. Your arousal and raw desire for your man was causing an uncomfortable dampness in your underwear.

“Take my dick out.” The command made your body tremble with excitement as you unbuttoned his trousers and pulled him out. Seeing you hold him must have done something because, suddenly he leaned forward, curling his ringed fingers into your coils before he placed his lips over yours - bruising them in the process.

“Open your mouth.” He told you. And as you opened your mouth, he said. “Suck your dick, baby.”

You whimpered before you placed a soft kiss on the tip and caressed the rest of his length. You looked up at him as you slowly took him into your mouth until he was lodged at the back of your throat.

“Fuck, you’re so pretty with my dick in your mouth.” With one hand, he took your hair into a ponytail as he determined the speed. You placed your hands on his thighs to steady yourself as he fucked your face - thrusting into your mouth as he pushed your head down on his length bringing you closer to his pelvis.

Your eyes were brimming with tears as you struggled for breath gagging on his dick. And you loved every second of it.

“You okay baby?” Lewis asked. His voice breathless but laced with concern at the state of tears staining your cheeks. You nodded your head and quickly drew him back into your mouth with your hand wringing his girth. You raised your eyes to meet his as you let him hit the back of your throat once more. The choking sounds you made had him twitching in your mouth.

“Goddamn, this fucking mouth.” Lewis hissed as you sucked on his tip causing the base of his spine to tingle. You made a swallowing motion which stimulated your throat to contrast and tighten around the tip of his dick.

“Fuuuucckkk me.” He groaned as he threw his head back, pushing you away.

You giggled as you pressed your hands onto his thighs and stood up. You placed your legs on either side of his hips and took his dick into your hand and the other hand moved your panties to the side. You rubbed his tip against your wet centre until he was drenched. Your eyes locked and despite his well put together outward appearance, you were unraveling him with your continuous teasing.

Lewis leaned forward and tugged at your thick coils in his hand to hoist your head backwards. The sting of the pull caused you to hiss.

“Don’t fucking play with me, YN. Ride this dick.” He sternly told you as he dragged his mouth down the column of your neck before biting onto your exposed shoulder. You moaned as you finally pressed the head of his dick on your entrance. You couldn’t stop moaning as you rotate your hips on his cock. Lewis’s hands came to your waist, guiding you down slowly on his thickness until he was nestled in deep.

He groaned, feeling your warmth all around him. He smacked your ass causing you to gasp. “This is what you wanted right? So take it.” He harshly whispered before he pulled you closer by your neck and captured your lips. No longer caring to be gentle, Lewis demanded. “Ride me.”

“Baby, you’re so big, wait -.” You pleaded but he slapped your ass cheek again, causing your pussy to clench around him.

You began to ride him. Hard.

You mashed your hips against his, rolling your waist back and forth so that he was touching every part of you intimately possible. Your eyes fluttered close as you arched your back as your walls rhythmically clenched around his dick. A guttural moan left your mouth as Lewis’s fingers dug into the flesh of your ass and fucked you harder.

“Fuck yes! Just like that!” Your voice quivered as you placed your hands on his shoulders. You started bouncing up and down his cock which left his eyes rolling to the back of his head. Every time you came down, Lewis would thrust his hips up - making your orgasm quickly rise within you.

“Don’t stop!” He breathlessly moaned. You shook your head before you leaned down and drew his bottom lip into your mouth before kissing him passionately.

“I won’t.” You whispered. You increased your speed. The sound of your flesh clapping - along with your moans echoed across the room. Sweat was beginning to line his forehead and roll down the sides of his forehead. The smell of your sex taking over your senses.

Lewis slammed into you with a desperation only you would know. His arms wrapped around your body and you dropped your head into his neck. Your teeth trapped his skin in between them as the familiar hot tingle at the bottom of your spine rose.

“I’m about to come baby. Fuucck, sweetheart I’m gonna come” He whispered, whimpering as you bounced harder.

“Come with me. Come inside me.” The accumulation of his dick pounding your sweet spot with your clit constantly brushing on his pelvis along with the commanding nature of his tone, you were done for.

Your nails painfully dug into his shoulders as you screamed, tensing as your climax erupted. Lewis’s mouth parted into a silent moan, pushing his face into your chest as you milked him for everything he had. Your breaths were ragged as Lewis collapsed back into the couch with you in his arms. You sighed into his chest before you turned your head and laid kisses on his damp skin.

“Fucking hell, sweetheart.” He mumbled as he rubbed your back beneath your nightie. The both of you laid there, your bodies feeling like melted butter. You didn’t need the spa anymore, you were taking a nap as soon as Lewis left.

“If you didn’t look so good, I wouldn’t have needed to ride you like this.”His laugh vibrated through your body.

“So it’s my fault now that you got turned on?”

“Yes! Next time wear a burlap sack or something. You know what, no - you’d somehow make that look good too.”

He chuckled and pressed a kiss on the side of your forehead. “I apologise, I’ll be more ugly next time.”

INSTAGRAM |

therealyn

liked by lewishamilton, f1wags, and others

therealyn Save a horse, ride a driver or whatever was said 🥵 and my mannn, thank you to my mannn.

view 2,344 comments

user818 This is so real of you actually 😂🤭

user121 Ma’am, this is a wendy’s

lewishamilton Can you stop🧍🏾

⤷ therealyn lewishamilton But if I remember correctly, you were telling me not to????

⤷lewishamilton therealyn 🤦🏾

user619 not them basically confirming what we’re all thinking in the comments 😩😫

user444 No because if Lewis Hamilton was my boyfriend, I would be behaving like this too.

charles_leclerc Now we know why he was so happy in the paddock today ..

⤷ therealyn charlesleclerc Happy to be of service 🫡

lewishamilton therealyn When I get back, I’m locking your phone away.

⤷ therealyn lewishamilton as if 🙄🤚🏾

user788 the fact you can see in the video when he’s in the garage, the exact moment he saw this post 😭.

ru’s letter💌: this is probably one of the fastest I’ve written and uploaded something 😂. I have such a thing for eye contact during sex I’m noticing 🤭.

[gguk-n]

Cinematic Sparks (Kim Namjoon x Lewis Hamilton's sister!Reader)

Face claim- India Armateifio. Pictures from Pinterest

Series Masterlist

y/nhamilton

Liked by lewishamilton, mercedesamgf1 and 234,987 others Tagged lewishamilton

y/nhamilton A weekend well spent😌😌

mercedesamgf1 you should spend more weekends with us🥹🥹 user1 the hamilton's have great genes❤️❤️ user2 so pretty!!😍😍 user3 the first picture😍😍 user4 how is she so pretty even without make up??😩😩 lewishamilton stop telling dad I don't take you places😤😤 y/nhamilton lewishamilton never bc its the truth😡 lewishamilton y/nhamilton that's why I don't take you anywhere🙂‍↔️🙂‍↔️

y/nhamilton

Liked by lewishamilton, nicorosberg and 147,927 others Tagged lewishamilton

y/nhamilton I coquettified him!!🎀🎀

lewishamilton take that picture down😡 y/nhamilton NO🫢 nicorosberg that's why you're my favourite Hamilton ❤️❤️Liked by the Author mercedesamgf1 why didn't we think of that?🤔 user5 I want a brother like Lewis🥲 user6 Lewis I get you ma brother, my sisters crazy just like yours😥 user7 she looks so perfect doing anything😫😫 user8 we love you Y/N. Never change for this industry🤣🤣 user9 user8 what industry? f1? user8 user9 she's an actor, she starred in a lot of movies and shows😀

y/nhamilton

Liked by lewishamilton and 1,287,298 others

y/nhamilton Exhausted from all the promo but I hope you guys will enjoy seeing me in the new Netflix original

user10 I just watched it and I love it❤️❤️ user11 effortlessly pretty😍😍 user12 her interviews are riveting😘 user13 her chemistry with her co-stars is unbelievable🫢🫢

y/nhamilton

Liked by 278,029 others

y/nhamilton Rejuvenating my soul in Seoul

user14 OMG!! YOU LOOK SO GOOD IN A HANBOK❤️❤️ user15 That caption is bomb 😩😩 user16 I ran into her the other day and she was the nicest person and we took pictures and even gave her autograph🥹🥹 y/friend/user best girls trip everrrr🥹🥹 y/bff/user wanna go back!!!❤️‍🩹🥲

y/nhamilton followed rkive

gossippage

Liked by 1,287, 298 others

gossippage Dispatch Korea released pictures of a couple saying they are Y/N Hamilton and RM of BTS. The outlet says that they were spotted a couple times spanning months going in and out of RM's Hannam-dong apartment. The couple or their agency are yet to confirm anything

user17 obviously namjoon pulled her, I mean look at her😩 user18 you can't even see their face, it's utter bs😤😤 user19 they are grown adults, if they date then they date user20 I hope it's true, I wanna see Namjoon at races🥹 user21 it's funny how 7 time world champion's sister's dating some one who cannot drive🤣🤣 user22 I think it's true, RM just followed her🥲🥲

rkive followed y/nhamilton

y/nhamilton

Liked by rkive, lewishamilton and 2,456,973 others Tagged rkive

y/nhamilton All the time I spent with you was the best. I'll be looking out of the window wistfully waiting for my husband to return from the war😭

rkive I'll be back soon❤️ lewishamilton what do you mean husband?? 😡😡 georgerussell63 incase any one was wondering, Lewis is pacing the mercedes hospitality like a mad man nicorosberg he's a gent, we love him❤️ sebastianvettel he's so much better than the other guys you've brought home❤️ lewishamilton sebastianvettel there were others???🥲😤 y/nhamilton lewishamilton you act like I am 5😫😫 user23 y/n and namjoon dating was not on my 2023 bingo🫢🫢 user24 the boyfriend namjoon pictures are killing me😭😭 user25 she's us, waiting for our husbands*cough*JungKook*cough* user26 love the Hamilton siblings😂😂

rkive

Liked by y/nhamilton, uarmyhope and 2,370,290 others Tagged y/nhamilton

rkive My favourite person to take to museums

y/nhamilton I'm the only person you take to museums🤔 rkive y/nhamilton bc that's the only time you shut up😌 y/nhamilton rkive 😤😡 user27 he really said f u to the company, I do what I want😂😂 user28 this couple was made for us😭😭 user29 I'm living vicariously through them😭😭 user30 cutest couple ever❤️🥹 user31 ewww you ruined your feed for her🙃🙃 urarmyhope ❤️

[il-miele-che-scrive]

the one where Y/n and Charles had different priorities

this is maybe a bit chaotic because I had one idea and unclear vision, but I like how it turned out eventually

view all comments

username1 How do you know? HOW DO YOU KNOW?!

username2 They have WHAT

username3 nah I don't believe in love anymore

username4 But they were together since even before Charles was in formula 1🥺

↳username2 Right? I thought they'll be together forever

username5 And there goes my hope for them to announce an engagement soon

↳username6 Sameeee except I thought someday they'll just have a secret wedding and not tell the media until weeks/months after

username5 Ngl that sounds like a them thing to do

username6 Well, not anymore

username7 My only question is why? 😭

↳username1 Literally because they seemed like a perfect couple. What could go wrong?

username8 Shit, that hurts more than my parents' divorce

username9 THEY BROKE UP AFTER 8 YEARS??

↳username10 what 😳

username9 They were together since 2016, I remember Charles saying this in some interview

username6 Yup that's right, he mentioned it many times, he was so in love with Y/n. I swear even recently he said after so many years he still falls in love more and more each day

username9 She was there for him when his dad passed, when Charles joined F1, when he signed up with Ferrari, when he won his first F1 race, I wonder what happened that made them break up so suddenly

username10 Oh so she was there for basically a huge part of his life

username5 I remember when Charles said "she's not a part of my life. She IS my life" about Y/n😭my standards for men have been high up in space ever since

username11 Wow just like Sainz broke up with his long term girlfriend last season. Let's just hope Leclerc won't pop up with a new girl weeks after that

↳username12 Charles and Y/n could be broken up for a long time now, we can only speculate when they broke up

username5 Imagine if Charles posted the Vegas vlog after their breakup 🥹 I'm not okay

username12 That was so unnecessary to say, I'm crying now

yourusername One for the money, two for the show, I never was ready so I watch you go

view all comments

username1 The caption guys...

↳username2 Does that mean what I think it means?

username3 What do you think it means?

username2 "I never was ready" he wanted to take things to the next level, but she didn't. "So I watch you go" means she had to let him go because they didn't want the same thing

username3 How could she not be ready after whole 8 years?

username2 Every person matures in their own time and that's okay, they'll both find someone else

username4 That's a Swiftie going through a breakup

username5 Noooo it's confirmed now 😭 as long as neither of them confirmed it I could stay delulu and think the rumours are just rumours

oldersister Thank you for babysitting Snow White 🐈‍⬛ (I wish there was a white cat emoji)

↳yourusername It was my pleasure! She's an angel (and a professional model)

oldersister Feel free to come over anytime you want, Snow White loves her aunt 🤍

youngersister HEY how dare you steal Y/n like that!! I wanted to take her out for milkshakes sometime

oldersister Chill, you can do that whenever you want I'm not stealing anyone

yourusername I'd love to go out for milkshakes!!

lilymhe No more Y/nLily in the paddock?

↳yourusername The paddock isn't the only place where we can hang out 😂

landonorris what are you up to on the 2nd pic? 🤨📸

↳username2 LANDO, DON'T

↳username4 LANDO IT'S TOO EARLY

↳username1 DONT RUIN OUR CHANCES TO HAVE Y/NCHARLES BACK

↳username1 Fuckboy Lando been doing too much fuckboying lately

username6 Didn't know she's a smoker

↳username7 Yeah, she was very secretive about it

username2 It's not like she was hiding it from y'all

username7 She was, probably because she would be canceled for being a wag who smokes cigarettes

username2 A grown woman can do what she wants

username6 It's better that they broke up, way healthier for Charles to not be around a smoker

username2 Wtf she was with him through bad and good times, supporting him no matter what, loving him, making beautiful memories together and you say it's good that they broke up because she smokes?

username4 May I add we never saw her smoking throughout the 8 years, she probably started after the breakup

username5 after the breakup or BECAUSE of the breakup?

charles_leclerc Leaving Bahrain with a good result despite some difficulties. Pretty good weekend if you ignore the braking problem, now onto Jeddah next 🏎

view all comments

username1 brAking problem or brEAking problem?

username2 How is that the start of the season and there's already something wrong with his car?

yourusername Congratulations on finishing P4🏁given the issues your car had, you did a spectacular job

↳charles_leclerc Thank you 😇 I tried my best, but felt like something is missing

yourusername I'm sorry :(

↳username3 WHAT IS Y/N DOING HERE? ARE THEY BACK TOGETHER?

username4 I wish I could believe they are, but I guess some people break up on good terms

username3 How could anyone end a 8yrs old relationship and be friends? 😭

↳username5 Jail for miss Y/n for leading fans on

username6 He looked so sad the whole time, during interviews and all that 😔

↳username7 Yeah he's either done with the car already or he misses Y/n that much

username8 DID Y'ALL SEE THAT ONE INTERVIEW WHERE HE GOT ASKED ABOUT Y/N NOT BEING IN BAHRAIN??

↳username6 WHAT INTERVIEW??

username8 A lady asked him why Y/n isn't here because she never missed the first race of the season before so it's surprising. He officially said that over the winter break they've decided to part ways due to focusing on different aspects of life🥲

username9 How do you figure something like this out after 8 fucking years? They wasted each other's time

username7 Calm down lol they grew and matured with each other, experienced how their love evolved throughout the years, no time you put into this is a wasted time

username10 I need to know what are the aspects of life they focus on and if they really are that different

↳username11 From what I figured from Y/n's post and Charles' interview - he wanted to get married, maybe even start a family and she wasn't ready

username10 Ahhh I remember how a few years ago Charles said he wants to have three kids. Such a shame Y/n doesn't want the same thing, but it's understandable they figured it now. They were kids themselves when they started dating lol

username11 Not really, they were both over 18 years old

username10 I know, but still that's a pretty young age and you might not know yet what do you really want in life

username12 Plus your brain develops until you're 25, they both turn 27 this year so it explains a lot

username13 I'm telling you, there would be no problems if Y/n was there, @/yourusername get your lazy ass on a plane to Jeddah

oldersister Amazing performance this weekend👏

youngersister Goodluck for Jeddah 🍀

username14 The way Y/n AND her sisters still interact with Charles on social media...

↳username15 Yeah like are they actually broken up??

3 weeks later

yourusername You'd be surprised if I told you why kangaroos are called kangaroos

view all comments

username1 What is miss doing in Australia during the race week?

oldersister I told you this story is fake 🙄

↳yourusername But it's funny so I'm gonna believe it

oldersister Kangaroo DOESN'T mean "I don't know" jesus christ

username2 I thought it does 😭

username3 Too much Tiktok I guess lmao

youngersister Glad I could have milkshakes with you in Australia 😌

↳yourusername Back at you although that was a strange excuse to go to Australia in the first place

youngersister It's just not the same in Europe

arthur_leclerc Y/n in her natural habitat🦘

↳yourusername I swear I was a kangaroo in a past life

↳username4 What is going on? Y/n and Charles broke up but they keep interacting with each other and each other's families

username5 I NEED to know which city it is

username6 Is that true all announcements on public transport are made with Oscar Piastri's voice??

↳yourusername Yup, I wonder how much convincing it took to get Oscar to do the voiceover

landonorris not a lot to be honest

username5 AHA so she is in Melbourne! Also, what are you doing here Lando?

landonorris do you wanna hear another aussie fun fact?

↳yourusername I'm scared but yes (as long as it's not about thongs)

landonorris do you know what an australian kiss is?

yourusername @/oscarpiastri please put Lando back in his cage

username7 HELP I'M GASPING FOR AIR, LANDO ALWAYS TAKES THE CHANCE TO SHOOT HIS SHOT

username8 Not gonna lie it pisses me off how Lando tries to "flirt" with Y/n in her comments

↳username2 Me too, it's not ethical

username9 I'm afraid Lando doesn't care lol and I don't think Y/n would ever consider going out with another driver considering Charles and her broke up on good terms

username10 I'm just wondering if norris ever tried funny business back when Y/n would come to races

↳username11 prolly not but hey now he's free to do it

username5 Just because he's free to do it doesn't mean he should do it

view all comments

username2 OH 😃

username3 So that's what she's doing in Australia

username4 Wait why is Jacob Elordi in Australia?

↳username2 Well, Jacob is Australian, why wouldn't he be there?

username4 HE'S AUSTRALIAN?!

username5 One thing Charles can't beat is the height 😩

↳username6 Is it worth it tho? Jacob treated his exes pretty badly, he's a cheater

username5 And? People change

username6 Bro, he cheated on Zendaya

username5 Chill out, maybe Y/n isn't even on a date with him, maybe they're just hanging out

username7 If I were Y/n I would enter my hoe phase now and Jacob is a good choice to start with

username8 THIS CAN'T BE TRUE

username9 Charles where are you? 😭 Y/n is a sweetheart, she shouldn't be with Jacob

username10 Sometimes I regret opening this app

username11 Didn't Jacob attend a few races? Is that were he met Y/n?

↳username12 Keep saying things like this and watch gossip unfold about how Y/n was waiting to leave Charles for Jacob

username13 Miss girl did a downgrade

↳username14 Is it a downgrade though if he's that tall?

username13 He can be as tall as he wants, but Charles was Y/n's soulmate and I'll always stand by that

username9 Plus the height doesn't make up for the personality

username14 What personality? 💀 Girl you don't even know him

username9 Someone who cheats on their partner clearly isn't a very pleasant person to date

username5 CALM DOWN GUYS we can't be sure they were on a date, it could be just two friends catching up

username9 what friends? I've never even seen them talk before and there were opportunities

yourusername Don't panic guys, I've been spending most of the time with @/youngersister and her aussie friends

view all comments

youngersister Yeah, I clearly didn't set you up for a date with a certain actor...

↳username1 SHE SET Y/N UP WITH HIM?!

username2 Evil mastermind

username3 How did that even happen lmao

↳yourusername Thankfully it didn't go as good as you'd wish it would 😌

youngersister No worries, I have other options up my sleeve

yourusername Keep them up there 🤺

↳username4 I'm confused is [younger sisters name] team Charles or not?

username5 She's just a menace it seems

username6 What's up with Y/n? She didn't wanna be with Charles, but she doesn't wanna move on. That's not normal

youngersister Don't make me set you up with Lando

↳yourusername You'd never, I know you think he's annoying

youngersister Yeah, but he gives me that vibe of a guy who can make you forget about your ex

yourusername That's called a fuckboy

youngersister You deserve a bit of fun don't you 🥳 I'm not saying you have to go straight back to being in a relationship

yourusername NO THANK YOU

username5 Lmao I love how they're having this convo here instead of on dms

username6 OR FACE TO FACE??

username7 Why does Y/n's lil sis support the idea of Y/n having a hoe phase? 😭

landonorris I was hoping you'd come see the race;)

↳yourusername Better luck next time I guess :)

a few months later

view all comments

username1 YEAH I WAS LIKE WHAT THE HELL???

username3 I can't defend Charles anymore

username4 Apparently her name is Angeliqué and she's a daughter of some French entrepreneur (a/n: I made her up)

username5 I didn't want Charles to move on, I wanted him to be back with Y/n 😭

↳username6 Worse thing is, Charles moved on but Y/n didn't. She went on this weird staged date with Jacob Elordi a few months ago and that's it

username7 NOOO 😭😭

username8 Charles better say sike now 🔫

username9 Please tell me it's a joke

username10 It truly feels like some part of me being torn apart knowing that Y/n and Charles broke up for good and he moved on

username11 Do we really know nothing about what's going on with Y/n? She must feel terrible now, I'm sure she saw that Angeliqué girl on TV

↳username9 What makes you think she would still watch races?

username11 It seemed like her and Charles are on friendly terms, so why wouldn't she still watch his races?

↳username12 She hasn't posted anything since Australia, went hella private, she ISN'T okay, I think she even stopped hanging out with Lily M

username13 I did some more research and that Angeliqué girl is 20 years old

↳username12 So we're supposed to believe that Y/n who is Charles' age wasn't ready to start a family, but a 20 year old Charles met weeks ago is? Charles, explain yourself

username9 Honestly the new girl seems just like a distraction from Y/n or a PR relationship

username12 You might be right, maybe Charles can't forget about Y/n so he went with "wanna get over, get under someone new"

username14 Nahhhh cuz she was all over Charles whenever she could and he looked so done 💀 that's definitely a stunt

↳username1 Literally, she was always hugging him, touching, holding hands, she barely let him interact with fans, Y/n was so much better AND she always respected Charles' fans

username15 imagine not being able to move on for MONTHS so your pr team finds you a fake gf

yourusername Excuse the inactivity, I've been watching Gilmore Girls

view all comments

username1 Very understandable in this case

username2 Our Rory Gilmore finally watching the og Rory Gilmore 🙏

oldersister I'm afraid Snow White might like you more than she likes me 😂

↳yourusername I'm the cool aunt 🤭

youngersister Excuse me???

yourusername I said what I said

youngersister And I don't agree with what you said

yourusername Would you watch Gilmore Girls with Snow White? Nope. I do. So I win the cool aunt competition

username3 Guys... When did Charles unfollow Y/n?

↳username2 He unfollowed?

username3 Yeah... He didn't comment nor even like, so I went to check and he doesn't follow Y/n anymore but she still follows him

username2 Ouch that hurts

username4 I don't care that Charles doesn't follow Y/n anymore, what counts is that she is happy 😊 look at the last pic, she's so adorable with Snow White

↳username5 True, she looks happy and healthy while Charles is out there having to put up with a fake girlfriend

username6 What's funny is that Charles doesn't follow Y/n anymore, but both his brothers and majority of F1 drivers do

↳username7 including the ones who followed her after the breakup 😏

username8 Don't try to make up new rumours, Y/n is single and happy

username9 Not to be mean but... It says something about Charles that he had to unfollow

↳username6 He either thought it'll help him forget or the new girlfriend made him unfollow

username9 Either way it tells us he's still thinking about Y/n

landonorris been a while since I last saw you

↳yourusername Let's see how long we can keep the streak up

username6 SLAAAAAY QUEEN

username10 I'll never be over the Y/nCharles breakup, I'm still going through it months after

↳username11 That's okay because so is Charles

username12 Tbh in Y/n's place I would just take the chance and go for Lando, just to prove that Charles' PR relationship is in vain

↳username2 That's not something Y/n would do, but if she ever did that I would support her

Username13 dating men is so much stress, why bother while you can sit at home with a cat watching Gilmore Girls instead?

[asunflowerana]

𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐭

summary: usual grocery day with your husband

with: bokuto koutaro, oikawa tooru, sakusa kyoomi and osamu miya.

n/a: brought this one from my old blog, one of my favorites. I'm thinking about making a part 2 with more hq boys, I personally enjoy imagining them dealing with grocery with me 😂. hope you guys enjoy!

⊛ bokuto koutaro

a child inside a full-grow 190cm male body, that's what he is. The fact that he still pouts whenever you remind him that "no, you can't get inside the cart baby, you won't fit" proves the point. But besides his childish mood, he can turn your time shopping a lot funnier.

he does cart races, searches for lower prices like hunting a treasure, throw his hands in the air when he finds his favorite snacks and cackles at every single brand with a silly name. He's a total dork, but his excitement is so endearing that you cannot help but absorb it. It's actually sweet, the way he lightly takes a domestic duty. He's also helpful, willingly carrying the bags to the car, and storing the groceries later at home.

he yearns to stay close to you, so even if his both hands are grabbing the cart handle, at least some arm-brushing will happen. He'll feel pretty lost if you both need to part ways through the market, but it's cute how he beams when you guys find each other later.

favorite section: breakfast food section (he's addicted to cereal), and meat section.

what you usually hear from him: "babe, can we buy this?"

⊛ oikawa tooru

if there's something Tooru doesn't look forward to, is grocery day. He even tried to wipe it off the fridge calendar a few times before, but you're too good to be fooled. "the Santos already ordered by delivery, why can't we do the same?" and he always uses the neighbor's card to try to convince you, whining like his teenager version would.

but one way or another, you always get him to go. If he's in a bad mood, he'll probably sulk in the beginning, lazily riding the cart while sighing every two minutes 'cause this is a total "waste of time". But as the shopping proceeds, he gets used to it, even forgetting what he was so grumpy about when a product catches his attention. With some subtle kisses and a small treat, you can even get a smile out of him. 

He likes to wrap his arm around your back or keep you close by the waist. Not having you there with him it's the worst thing it could happen, so he needs to make sure you stay by his side (also because he simply likes holding you).

favorite section: checkouts (not a surprise), and cosmetics section (he can spend a good amount of time selecting body products).

what you usually hear from him: "are we done?"; "baby, I need your help. This one, or this one?".

⊛ sakusa kiyoomi

He's the one looking forward to this day. He gets uneasy when things run out in the house, so going shopping is almost necessary for his peace of mind. What he doesn't look forward to, though, is dealing with people at the supermarket. Most precisely, the lines, but let's not talk about it to not ruin the mood.

he's very selective, taking whatever time he has to inspect and be sure of the products, in case it isn't a common choice of yours. He appreciates being aware of what you are consuming, not only for being an athlete but because he cares about your health. He likes to share what he's been learning from the team's nutritionist, but he is not a dictator: if you want to treat yourself to some tasty sweets or snacks, he won't get in the way. He'll even join the party.

He'll offer his arm for you to wrap your own, or hold hands. He's grateful to have your company, so he'll cherish it as much as he can. He's also very protective if the place or the lines are too crowned, keeping you by his side and holding you close with his arm.

favorite section: cleaning products (you have no idea how relieved he gets when he goes there).

what you usually hear from him: "I know you want it. Go ahead, put in the cart"; "tsc, they always put the gloves way back there"; "these stupid lines. Again."

⊛ osamu miya

The king of groceries. He's used to doing this two, or three times a week, and it never gets boring. The experience has made him smarter about where and when it is best to buy, plus he has a good eye when it comes to product quality and price. So yeah, you have almost nothing to worry about when Osamu Miya is your grocery partner. Almost.

He's very chill and helpful while shopping, but you better keep a good eye on the cart: it'll get filled to the brim in one minute. When Osamu likes something, he makes a point of buying as much as he can. Once, he filled almost three entire carts, and half of one was just from rice bags. Someone might think you have a whole volleyball team as a family with the amount of food he wants to take home.

Hands on your back, shoulder, waist, any free space he has to keep you close to him – and he'll keep it there the whole time. Touch is one of his love languages, so there's no way he won't keep in contact with you.

favorite section: fruit and vegetables section, and bakery section (he loves the smell of fresh ingredients).

what you usually hear from him: "sweetheart, just one more. It'll be the last, I promise"; "hope Tsum doesn't visit us today"

© asunflowerana 2024 — all rights reserved.

[cockkette]

be mine?

lando norris x famous!reader

warnings - set after lando’s win in miami, down bad lando, a bit short, some swearing, i think that’s it xoxo

face claim - girls on pinterest

y/n.l/n

liked by mclaren, landonorris and 170,293 others

tagged: mclaren

y/n.l/n: thank you so much mclaren for inviting me to the paddock this weekend i had the most fun! i can’t wait to see how the rest of the season goes 🧡

comments

mclaren: we hope to see you back in the paddock again soon 👀

y/n.l/n: thank you admin!

oscarpiastri: great to meet you y/n 👍

liked by y/n.l/n

lilyzneimer: you look so gorgeous! (you need to come to another race asap)

y/n.l/n: ahh ily (i really do it was so fun)

user1: a duo i never knew i needed

yourbestfriend: gorgeous gorgeous girl 😮‍💨

liked by y/n.l/n

landonorris: you must be my lucky charm

user2: this is painful to watch

oscarpiastri: tell me about it 🙄

user3: OSCAR PLEASE 🙏

landonorris

liked by oscarpiastri, y/n.l/n and 1,765,282 others

landonorris: WE FUCKING DID IT P1!!!

comments

oscarpisastri: well done man 👏👏👏

liked by landonorris

davidbeckham: well done mate

liked by landonorris

user4: rip lando nowins you will be missed

user5: at least we still have lando norizz

liked by oscarpiastri, georgerussell63 and alex_albon

y/n.l/n: what a race!! papaya 4eva🧡

landonorris: glad you could see it 🧡

user6: i bet he's hyperventilating

user7: he aint fooling nobody

alex_albon: congrats!!! 💪💪

liked by landonorris

goergerussell63: congrats mate!! 👏🙌

liked by landonorris

y/n.l/n

liked by yourbestfriend, landonorris and 231,072 others

tagged: yourbestfriend

y/n.l/n: in paris with my favourite girl <3

comments

yourbestfriend: i’ve missed you babes 😘😘

y/n.l/n: you mean you missed me being your sugar daddy xoxo

yourbestfriend: shhh 🤫

user8: i swear lando is in paris rn

user9: omg what if they are there together

user10: ur reaching so far rn

mclaren: 🧡

liked by y/n.l/n

user: i need her to come back to the paddock

liked by landonorris

user11: patiently waiting for lando’s comment

user12: not him liking the comment about her 😂

landonorris: pretty girl in a pretty place 🧡

y/n.l/n: that’s so sweet thank you 😊

liked by landonorris

maxverstappen1: bet he’s giggling and kicking his feet

oscarpiastri: probably blushing too

alex_albon: he’s definitely twirling his hair rn

landonorris: actually stfu

user13: i can't-

f1gossip

liked by user14, georgerussell63 and 14,218 others

f1gossip: lando norris has been spotted outside a paris bar getting close with a mystery woman

comments

user15: lany/n truthers rise

user16: i have been summoned

user17: now why is george being messy in the likes?!

danielricciardo: idk he’s an odd guy

user18: ariana what are you doing here 🤣

user19: it has to be y/n there are too many coincidences like they are both in paris and the drivers other have been getting involved

user20: i’ve connected the dots

user21: you haven’t connected shit

user22: people are so strange he deserves some privacy (i’m praying it’s y/n)

y/n.l/n

liked by yourbestfriend, lilyzneimer and 251,948 others

y/n.l/n: lazy days are the best days ☀️

comments

user23: she is so pretty

yourbestfriend: damn somebody stole my bitch 😞

y/n.l/n: you're the only one for me pooks

yourbestfriend: i wonder who that is 🧐

liked by y/n.l/n

user24: lando crying and throwing up rn

oscarpiastri: finally maybe he will stfu about you now

this comment has been deleted

user25: lily is in the likes i still have hope

user26: idk i think they got close after miami so its probs just from that and lando hasn't even liked

user25: WAIT OSCARS COMMENT

user27: i might have to join the lany/n truthers after that

user28: y/n soft launch?!?!

landonorris

liked by y/n.l/n, maxverstappen1 and 739,174 others

tagged: y/n.l/n

landonorris: osc ruined her soft launch but look at my pretty girl 🧡

comments

y/n.l/n: you're so cute

landonorris: stop i'm blushing in a meeting

mclaren: 🤨

y/n.l/n: oscar when i catch you oscar

oscarpiastri: please forgive me i'm so sorry i didn't know what a soft launch was 🙏

y/n.l/n: you're on thin ice piastri

lilyzneimer: we need a double date and i'll work on educating oscar

y/n.l/n: we should just go on a date xx

liked by lilyzneimer

alex_albon: SIMP 👉

georgerussell63: SIMP 👉

maxverstappen1: SIMP 👉

danielricciardo: SIMP 👉

landonorris: you're all just jealous

y/n.l/n: SIMP 👉

landonorris: y/n you're meant to be on my side

y/n.l/n: i don't want to lie though

user29: she's so messy

user30: lando has... rizz

user31: this can't be

oscarpiastri: i'm just as surprised as you

landonorris: i'll tell y/n you're being mean

yourbestfriend: she's still mine 🩷

liked by y/n.l/n

landonorris: nuh huh

user32: never beating the babygirl allegations

liked by y/n.l/n

user33: 'my pretty girl'

user34: if you look closely you can see me crying in the background

a/n - thank you for reading i hope you enjoyed any feedback is appreciated <3

[shirefantasies]

The Hobbit Characters + Pregnant Reader (Wife!Reader)

I just love fluff ok and, say it with me, I did this for LoTR 😁 (you can think of the older characters’ as being set when you guys are younger, not during book/film events 😊)

Warnings: conception mentions, some implications of infertility, pregnancy-related illness and symptoms, very long post 😂

Balin

✧ Five years. For five years you had tried. Six you and Balin had been married, happily as anything, but children never came. Your struggles had broken you down, leading you to try all the remedies well-meaning elders and healers alike recommended. Eat more good, strong foods, less of that greasy stuff. Drink this tea, it’s great for women! It’s only a bunch of tiny needles- the pain of birth will be worse anyway. Don’t be so active, let yourself relax for Mahal’s sake, girl! Remedy after remedy, you put your body through it all and put your hands up and prayed. Weeks passed and you had taken ill, attending the healers’ just to get something to ease your nausea, and that was when the questions began. Illness forgotten, you wandered in a grinning daze out of that hall and straight into your husband’s arms. When he chuckled and asked what this was all about, all you could do was snuggle into his chest deeper and whisper “It’s finally happened.”

✧ Such years leant of course to Balin being a bit extra protective of you. You often chastised him, good-naturedly of course, that he hovered so over you, and every time he would simply kiss you and say "That's right".

✧ It brought you both to tears when you began showing, when your condition had persisted long enough to be real, to last beyond the known months of danger. Forehead pressed against yours, your husband held you tightly and warmly for some amount of minutes you did not know, but minded not at all. Balin's words of love and reassurance were as music to your ears.

✧ Hormones confound you some days, pulling you from peace to ruin in mere moments, but Balin is always there with warm arms and wise words, reminding you that whatever you may think, you will never be alone.

✧ The one time during your entire pregnancy that you saw Balin cry was the day you brought home a tiny red coat that looked just like his and showed it to him with pride glowing in your eyes.

✧ He is so calm during all the worst sides of your condition, standing right by you through the good, the bad, and the ugly and dusting and cleaning you off each and every time. "We fought hard for this," he reminds you, "And I'll keep fighting with you every step of the way."

Dwalin

✧ You had wanted children all your life, certainly, and you'd seen Dwalin around them a few times, but what would he say? Your husband was a renowned warrior, hardened in the face of blood and steel and tolerant of no foolishness. But still he went soft as clay when his beloved wife fell into his arms. Thus that night you softened him up but good with all the great food and affection you could muster, so much that you had him remarking what a wonderful home he'd been blessed with. "And would you be willing to share it?" At that, your husband rose from his chair, hands tensing at his sides. "You don't mean-" "I do," you nodded. Without warning, you were swept up into Dwalin's arms, hoisted gently into the air with a giggle. "Just when I thought Mahal couldn't bless me any more! My beautiful wife, with child."

✧ Cue the two of you bickering back and forth like, well, a married couple, about who the child is going to look like. "I'll have 'em look just like you, thanks." "I for one relish in the thought of toting around a miniature Dwalin." "Come now," your husband teases back, running a hand over his shaven, tattooed head, "If they look like you they'll have better hair!"

✧ Dwalin has tiny wooden swords and axes made in time for your little arrivals, ensuring the axes match his to a tee.

✧ He sleeps flush against you now, head leaned against your growing belly and one hand firmly atop it like a lovely little line of defense.

✧ You have him absolutely wrapped around your finger, even more so now. Bat your eyelashes at him and make any request and he melts like butter. You’ll never want long for anything you crave!

✧ Admittedly he knows very little of a woman’s workings, but the moment he hears all your explanations he dubs you as great a warrior as he! “Beautiful as the stars and strong as the mountains to boot! That’s my girl.”

Thorin

✧ He has waited so long for this. So many years of this hanging pressure and yet when he has you by his side, all the feeling of necessity behind trying fades away. You two can simply enjoy life. So when you return to Thorin's side one day, eyes brimming with tears, all you say to him is "It's happened". And with that you see your king, your husband, collapse as if his whole body is sighing, pulling you into him like he needs you to breathe. One hand reaches up to hold the back of your head, gently caressing your hair.

✧ Vows every day that he will protect you both, be the father and husband you deserve, taking your hands in his and then leaning down to address both his queen and your child.

✧ Thorin also assures you that despite what any members of the court say, your new addition will be equally loved and equally worthy of the throne whether you welcome a son or a daughter. "All I wish is a healthy child with their mother's heart." "And their father's good looks," you tease in response, pulling your husband in for a kiss.

✧ You begin stealing his clothes, stating that his tunics are so much more comfortable than your dresses with an innocent bat of your eyelashes that has Thorin relenting every single time, heart rent at the way they begin fitting you tighter.

✧ You see a different side of Thorin in this stage of your marriage, one you’ll never complain about, not when he softens so, gazes down upon you with such love as he hovers over you, kissing your lips, your neck, your belly.

✧ There is no denying that you both glow during this time, pride and joy illuminating Thorin’s features right alongside the radiance of your childbearing state. Everyone stops you to say what a beautiful couple you are and you cannot help the flush of heat that rises to your face as Thorin thanks them and guides you away from the crowd, a protective hand on the small of your back

Oin

✧ Predicts it before you even realize because you’re exhibiting all the telltale symptoms; annoyed as you may be by his insistence that you are with child, what do you know? Oin is right. Oin is, unfortunately, also quite smug about this. Once the initial triumph wears off, though, he’s shouting for joy and crushing you with a hug!

✧ The absolute dream husband to have when you're with child, for he has worked taking care of countless dwarrowdams in your condition. He knows what you need. He understands. And most importantly, he does not judge.

✧ In fact, you two get a kick out of poking fun at the other husbands who roll their eyes at their wives' demands or take shots at their cravings because, frankly, that could never be you. "He doesn't know her body needs more iron!" "I bet he moans and groans about grabbing her a pillow, too."

✧ Having married such a well-known dwarrow, you’ll have all manner of strangers approaching you with congratulations that you reluctantly just accept, correctly assuming they’re patients of Oin’s that he’s proudly blabbed to.

✧ He’s always asking you to guess if you’re having a boy or a girl, insisting that “‘tis the mother’s intuition, after all.”

✧ You insist on remaining on your feet as long as possible, and your husband does not protest, knowing that exercise is good for the baby. That doesn’t mean he won’t be right behind you to catch you if you fall or check on your precious little bump, though, of course.

Gloin

✧ Not so subtle in his so-called 'baby fever', your husband has been going on and on about how his child will be his little flame, the apple of his eye, his world. You have no fear, then, sharing the news, in fact you amuse yourself by dropping your state in conversation like the plainest fact. "I'm glad you've got those new blankets, dear, what with the baby coming in winter and all," you told Gloin, taking a sip of your tea. Deafening is the only word you can use to describe the roar of celebration he gives, wonderfully bone-crushing and teeth-rattling your embrace and kiss.

✧ Tackles you to bed almost every night the first week, covering your cheeks and belly alike with kisses.

✧ Spends that very same time period sharing with absolutely any soul who even remotely listens that he’s going to be a father!

✧ Gloin is very insistent upon your care, even taking it upon himself to make your meals by hand. Which, suffice it to say, is a bit disastrous the first few times but he emerges triumphant in the end and succeeds in filling you with all the hearty things your budding dwarrowling needs!

✧ Being married to a dwarf means you have a husband who absolutely adores the extra pounds you put on and has no qualms about showing you in and out of the bedroom! Even just stopping by the market he’ll be wrapped around you.

✧ Encourages the baby every time they kick, shouting out praise of their strength while you tell him to cool it, all those kicks are going to you!

Bifur

✧ A large part of him thought that he would never be able to experience fatherhood. Not since the injury, and that had happened at such a young age. You cut right through that fear, assured Bifur that he would be an amazing father regardless of if he did some things differently. And that he would soon see, for your family would be growing early the next year.

✧ In all honesty, you feel blessed to have a husband who signs, for your baby will likely be able to communicate early! When you tell Bifur this he breaks out into tears, for what an angel you are to see the beauty in him. Every side of him. He promises to do the same.

✧ And make good on that does he! You will never want for love for even on your illest days Bifur is right by your side, his caresses gentle and speaking volumes of adoration.

✧ Absolutely adores jumping into the bath with you! His excuse being he has to help you and may as well rinse his beard off, but you can see how eager he is to run his hands over your hair and see the way your body relaxes at his cleansing touch. He wants nothing more than to feel useful, needed, and you assure him you cannot do this without him.

✧ Again and again, in fact, on the days when he stands behind you, holding up your burden and cheering you with little jokes and flirtation in Khuzdul even as you are overcome with exhaustion.

✧ Proudly tells everyone who will listen that he’s got a little warrior in there whenever the baby kicks!

Bofur

✧ You hadn’t exactly been trying. You hadn’t exactly been not trying, either. The news comes to you through a haze, muffled by the great rush of other thoughts bombarding your mind and sending your heart beating, but at their heart comes the image of Bofur holding a little one and bouncing them upon his knee and your chest flutters and soars. Your visit is completed all in smiles, and upon returning him to your husband’s questioning about the flu you’ve gone in for, you tell him it likely will not go away until the end of the year. “The end of the year? Why ever that long? I’ve never heard of a flu like that, not even-” “‘tisn’t a flu, my darling,” you smirk at him, “it’s a baby.” “A- you’re- we’re gonna have a-” Bofur is all agape, stepping closer and hovering his hands over your middle like he doesn’t want to grip you in a way that breaks you. “That all right?” You ask, half-teasing, for he has recently confided in you his envy of Bombur’s family. “All right? Song of my heart, I could kiss you!” “Well, what’s stopping you?”

✧ If you thought Bofur was affectionate before, well Mahal be with you, for you haven't seen anything yet! He falls even more in love with your body knowing it's carrying his and your child, hands nearly always holding or roaming you. When you're out and about, your husband usually has a hand at the small of your back, supporting the weight you carry as you walk and running soothingly up and down. Kisses all over your belly in private.

✧ This lends to how quick your husband is to reassure you on days you don't feel so friendly with your body, those times when you'd like nothing more than to shatter the looking-glass. "All I see," Bofur tells you one day, a hand on each of your shoulders as you peer together, "Is the most beautiful thing I've ever laid my lucky eyes upon, and she's not got an easy job. If I were her, I'd be proud of myself. Proud of making a comfortable home for our little one. And if I was her husband, why, I'd take her as she is right here and now! Right nice for me I am her husband, eh?"

✧ “Imagine havin’ a little girl.” Lying side by side, you heard Bofur’s wistful tone and felt a small smile creep onto your lips. “I’ll do her hair up in braids and tie them with ribbons. She’ll have all the pretty things she wants, because I have mine right here,” he adds, turning over to caress your belly and pull your lips into his.

✧ Marrying a toymaker comes with distinct perks: your husband crafts the most magnificent little wheeled contraptions and carven animals for your new addition! He spends hours carving and glazing them, and sometimes you catch him having fallen asleep at his workbench when you struggle to stay in dreamland, covering him up with a spare blanket.

✧ You worry because the baby doesn’t seem to move much, but Oin confirms everything seems to be going fine. “Your wee bairn just got this one’s personality, it seems!” He jokes, stabbing a mock-accusatory finger Bofur’s way.

Bombur

✧ A baker's dozen. For as long as you've known him, that's how many wee ones Bombur purported wanting. Thirteen more than most dwarves have, you always tease him, but in reality every time you see your sweet husband with children and hear him dream of a family your heart leaps. That is why the moment you take his hands and tell him it's come true is special, intimate, a quiet draw in and out of breath that has him sobbing joyously and nuzzling into your embrace with so much love your chest bursts from the flight of it.

✧ Sixth senses never seemed real to you until you became pregnant and it was like Bombur knew what you were craving and was making it before you could even say anything!

✧ Cannot keep away from you. Always wants to be kissing you and cupping your cheeks and holding your hands, just so so sweet!

✧ Bombur is so much more good-natured than you, for all the jokes about how you'll be as big as him soon have you swinging, but he just holds you back and laughs alongside them, saying he's looking forward to it with a twinkle in his eye.

✧ Literally baffled if you ever feel bad about your body; his legitimate confusion alone halfway snaps you out of the sad reverie, and all the following words about your beauty and your husband's appreciation of every inch does the rest.

✧ "You know I'll keep you safe, right? Both of you," he tells you one day, a hand resting upon your bump, "I may not be some great warrior, but Mahal help anyone who comes between us."

Dori

✧ From even before you were actually wed you knew that Dori would be an excellent father. Having taken care of his younger brothers from quite an early age, he had knowledge atop a naturally caring personality you fell for. Gentlemanly Dori waited with you, keeping chaste until after your wedding, but once it is official you know your news could come at any time and you accept that. On your one-year anniversary, in fact, your first gift to Dori is the tiniest bracelet of fine amber beads. “Does this mean…?” As soon as he sees you nod, Dori is taking you in his arms, cradling you gently as if you were made of fine porcelain and thrice as precious.

✧ Caring father-to-be. A little too caring. "If those are too heavy for you, I can carry them!" "They're just books, I'll be alright, Dori." "Oh, don't eat that, you got sick last time." "I haven't been sick in a month!" "That's a lot of steps, should I carry you?" "...Actually, sure."

✧ Always sleeps with his arm wrapped around your middle. No exceptions.

✧ Has every manner of tea and remedy you could desire on hand or otherwise purchases it. Same goes for supplies- Dori even found a ring-shaped cushion for you to lay on! He has your back for any ailment and is often there to make or apply your cure himself. After all, he wouldn't trust anyone else to do it!

✧ You love this dwarf with all your heart. He takes it upon himself to find dwarrowdams willing to let him practice changing diapers on their wee bairns and surprises you with this newfound skill when you return home one day!

✧ Dori’s love of the finer things absolutely carries over into his future fatherhood, as he has the loveliest little velvet clothes made and procures the dearest little bejeweled hairbrush. All in all, both of you amass far more than you need because any time you go out it inevitably devolves into you two clasping your joined hands between each other, gushing over all the wee things, and taking them home!

Nori

✧ He never thought he would get married at all, let alone have a family, but as time goes on the desire to continue his lineage and finally settle down takes hold. Then suddenly there he is desperately trying to seduce you into trying for a little one! It doesn't take long, not with his charm, until the day comes when you teasingly tell him that he got his way. Smirking until the realization takes hold of him, his arms are then snaking around your waist to pull you close.

✧ Always talking about how he's going to teach his little one everything he knows. When pressed about it, responds with such things as fighting and picking locks. His defense? "What if 'e gets stuck somewhere, or-"

✧ Impatient! "When am I gonna be able to feel 'em?" He asks, a hand upon your belly, which has yet to display any changes. "Not for another few months, Nori! I haven't even begun to show!"

✧ Hides things sometimes or puts them up places you can't go just so he can swoop in and help you, saving your day and pressing a kiss to your cheek as he tells you he can handle it, don't you worry your pretty little head.

✧ Nori always teases you when he pours himself a drink. "Bet you'd like some of this, huh? Not for three more months!" He chuckles. Your brows furrow. "Three months? What about when I'm feeding?" "What does tha- oh. Does that really-" "Yes, yes it does." "By the stars, I could have got my baby drunk!"

✧ Talks to the baby quite a bit, especially when he finally can feel the kicks. "Where you running off to, huh?" He chuckles, feeling the flutters against his hand pick up. "That's 'cause of me, isn't it? You hear me? That's right, it's your da. Can you believe it? Me, your da! I'll take good care of you, you hear?"

Ori

✧ "Ori, dear," you implored your husband, "Might you knit something for me?" Looking up from the scarf he'd just finished, Ori's eyes fell upon you and he gave that smile, the special one reserved just for you. "Of course. What would you like?" "A wee pair of booties," you replied, hands clasped and expression dreamy. "Who needs booties?" He asked, head cocked. "We will in the fall," you answered, stepping closer and resting a hand upon his. Ori's jaw dropped. "You... I... We-" Smile widening, you nodded. "I. You. We," you agreed.

✧ Nearly from the first day you know you are with child, Ori is rattling off names. After tossing out a great deal, he finally pauses and gives a sheepish apology. "I'm sorry, I suppose I've thought about this a lot," he confesses with a grin, "I just can't believe it's happening." Your hand joins with his, resting over your little bump. "Neither can I. It's like a dream."

✧ "So," you ask Ori one day, leaning your chin upon the couch where you'd lain, "What should our plan be for when my water breaks?" Your husband's brows furrow. "When your what?" "Oh, no," you mutter. Cue Ori spending his afternoon receiving a great multitude of lessons. What he got for being raised by other dwarf men, you suppose. "That really all happens to you?" He asks, gaping at you as though you came of the Valar themselves. "Yes, it does. Birth is a great deal of work. They don't just run on out, you know!" "Yes, I know. Of course I know." Ori's voice is faint; he excuses himself and you assume it's to faint or be sick, but about an hour later he returns bearing gifts. "I'm sorry I'm putting you through all that." "Sweetheart," you chuckle, cupping his cheek, "You know it takes two, right?" Your sweet husband reddened, but he nodded.

✧ Ori takes on almost all the cleaning himself- you haven't even asked! Finally curiosity gets the better of you and you inquire as to why he's gotten so into housekeeping. "Well, aren't you tired?" He asks simply, innocently, and you wonder how you got so lucky.

✧ He also knits far more than that pair of booties you requested- all three of you will have matching sweaters before your little one has arrived!

✧ Ori's favorite thing in the world is sitting with you in his lap, one hand cradling your growing bump and the other holding a book as you two take turns reading aloud, filling your cozy hollow with the sounds of voices your little one will come to love. The books are hand-drawn, written, and bound by him, of course!

Fili

✧ You two speak of little ones so much it borderline infuriates the others, Kili himself even bursting out in frustration one day at yet another interruption about tiny clothes, "Just get her pregnant already!" "Good idea. See you later," Fili replies, scooping you up and carrying you off bridal-style. "Wait, I- Damn, brother..." In reality, Fili just carried you around the corner and set you down while you two burst out laughing, but about a month later your tries were in fact successful!

✧ Honeyed words were no trouble for your husband before, but now? Praise falls endlessly from his lips. "Never did I think you could get more beautiful, and yet each day you succeed beyond my wildest dreams."

✧ Fili has a near-magical sense for your new struggles of coordination, all but flying to your side to catch your hand or waist whenever you trip or even whenever you must rise up again from your seat!

✧ He loves to tease you, asking what disgusting thing you'll think of him to fix next or joke that he can finally beat you in a fight in this state, but every joke is punctuated by the most loving eyes and gestures that they cannot do a thing but warm your heart and make you chuckle.

✧ Your baby is very active, kicking all the time! "We've definitely got a little Fili in here!" Your husband exclaims with a grin, hand resting atop your belly to feel your little one's exuberant motions. "A strong babe for sure," you sigh, "Much to the pity of my ribs!" "Too bad we aren't having a Kili. Nice and lazy for you." "Hey, I heard that!"

✧ He turns his head, peering over his shoulder at you as you waddle after him, golden hair cascading down. "Care for me to slow down a little?" "I care for you to shut up," you shoot back, crossing your arms and fighting your smile.

Kili

✧ The thought crossed your mind far before it did your husband's. Not that Kili had no desire for children, it was simply that the possibility was all the more yours to consider. It took a visit from your young cousin, who had Kili wrapped around your finger, for the fire to light in your husband's head as well, a smile lighting up his face. "We- we could..." "I know, Kili." You could and you certainly did but a few months later.

✧ "I hope they look just like you." "Me too." Kili pulls his head out of the crook of your neck. "Hey, that is the part where you say 'no, I hope they look like you'!" "I'm doing the work of carrying for how long again? Nine, ten months? Least they can do is resemble me a little," you shoot back with a smirk.

✧ It was Oin who brought the news: "Both babies seem healthy as far as I can tell!" "Both?" You gape. "Both babies?" "'s right," Oin replies, "I know I can't always hear the best, but I haven't been wrong on a heartbeat yet. You can feel 'em." "Guess we did pretty good, eh love?" Kili teases, earning him an elbow to the ribs, but he just shakes his head and tugs you closer against his chest. "Should we make their names confusing as well?" "Don't you think it might get old for them?" "Fili and I switched names plenty of times and we aren't even identical!" You should have known.

✧ Kili takes to sleeping facing you, close enough that sometimes your cheeks brush. Others he slips down lower and you awake with your husband cuddled up to the bump of your belly.

✧ Will come running from any room, anywhere, to feel the babies kick, and also loves tugging along any of his family he can take, too. Childlike wonder fills your husband's eyes every time and pride glistens in his dark eyes when he's brought along his mother, his brother, even his uncle the king!

✧ Never once do you doubt yourself or have one moment of room for insecurity, for Kili still flirts with you as if you were tweens and sneaks all sorts of touches, pecks, and affectionate hands in your hair wherever he can find it! The notion of a baby destroying the romance of your relationship is laughable to you, who married a dwarf that has no shame telling you you're the most gorgeous creature to walk the earth and warm his-and the baby's in a different way-body.

Bilbo

✧ Bilbo's a perceptive hobbit. He knows something's off with you. You don't usually scurry around the way you are like everything has to be perfect. That's his job. "Something the matter? Are you... expecting someone?" Your husband follows you down Bag End's hall as he gives his inquiry, eyebrows shooting up at the look on your face when you turn around. Consternation, resignation, finally a smile. "I was going to tell you after dinner," you answered, "But since you asked it like that, yes I am expecting someone. Our child this spring." At that, it was Bilbo's turn to shift through expressions. Shock, realization, finally a smile.

✧ Nursery shopping has become Bilbo's favorite pastime. Baby Baggins isn't arriving for months and yet your husband is returning from market with all manner of trinkets for the shelves and paper for the walls. You cannot help giggling at his armfuls of supplies and kissing his cheek as you relieve as much of his burden as he allows you to.

✧ So sweet, always helping you dress, pulling on every garment with the utmost of care and even avoiding your reflection on days you feel bad. Quickly kissing each part of your body before he covers it with something he knows will be comfortable.

✧ You'll be eating well whether you like it or not! Bilbo will make you anything under the sun if it means you and Baby Baggins are getting nourishment and he certainly will not have you skimping! Anything that makes you sick simply is not allowed in Bag End at all, end of discussion.

✧ One night, you awake to soft whispers and your heart melts at the sight of Bilbo resting his chin on your growing bump talking to the baby. Not uttering a word, you simply watch, taking in the moment beneath the sheen of tears in your eyes.

✧ "Careful, careful," Bilbo is always telling you, holding your hand and guiding you over the smallest of obstacles, even little puddles and rocks.

Thranduil

✧ He has talked about getting you pregnant before, but speaking of it and doing it are two entirely different things, especially with...well, words of such nature. Thus, you find yourself nervously wringing your hands before your husband as he strokes your face, asking whatever is the matter. At Thranduil's touch, his intense gaze, you fin yourself melting and admitting all, confessing that you are expecting his child. You are certainly not expecting the way his confident smile utterly falters, dissipating in favor of the look of a man near tears. "Truly? A little one of our own?" "Yes," you whisper, finally able to smile as the tension melts from your body, which is soon pulled against the Woodland King's. "Long have I dreamed of this day, my love."

✧ One of his favorite new activities is commissioning you new maternity dresses; you will certainly have plenty to wear if Thranduil has any say about it! In addition, when the time comes of course he requests that you model them for him.

✧ Thranduil loves to sneak up behind you, lightly wrapping his hands about your waist and laying them atop yours, his head resting in the crook of your neck and breathy, pleased laughter warming the skin there.

✧ When you start showing, oh, he loves it. One more sign that you are his, utterly and truly his queen, his beloved, claimed by Thranduil in every sense. He follows your lead, a hand around your waist, letting you shine like the gem he knows you to be. Rarely will you two be seen apart, not when the king can bask in your glow, relish the eyes upon your beautiful form, heavy with his child.

✧ There is one day he catches you in tears and heart tearing he steps to scoop you up against him, cheeks held gently in his elegant hands, which begin to glitter with your tears. "My rings no longer fit," you sob, head falling to his chest. Thranduil holds you close, grip loose as though you might break. "That is not your fault, meleth nîn." "I feel so... so massive." "Who wishes a small dwelling, hm? Piteous thing not to have any comforts. Your body is a host of life, the vessel of a bloodline. Beautiful in all its forms. Never forget that, oh dearest one."

✧ Thranduil is experienced; he knows many little tricks to help you feel better, be they massages or ways to bear your weight. He impresses you with the knowledge he has of the ways of women, understanding your water breaking, dilation, and every complication the healers warn you about and telling you before they even do!

Feren

✧ First to know was neither you nor your husband, but rather your cat, for she had suddenly become your little shadow, following you about your home and taking rest upon your lap as often as she could. "I wonder what it is that got into her," you commented one afternoon, smiling and stroking her back. "Growing up, ours got like this when my mother was carrying my younger sisters. Both times. It was like he could sense it," Feren replied. You both sat in smiling silence for a moment longer before simultaneously straightening, looking each other right in the widening eyes.

✧ Gets a little flustered, frankly. Not so much at your news itself, simply the realization sinking in that he is to be a father. He, Feren, will have a child. He says this out loud several times before suddenly breaking out into a smile. You tease him for going through half his emotions at once, but now the wave of joy has swept him up!

✧ Playfully rolls his eyes and mock-complains every time you remind him that he has to clean up after the cat now! Subsequently adds that he would fetch you the moon if you asked it.

✧ Loves helping you bathe the more difficult your condition makes it, scrubbing your hair with such care and gently massaging your sore feet and ankles as you wash up. Despite your husband's skill in battle, Feren's hands are the most loving and delicate you could ask for.

✧ Your husband has a natural tendency to rise early, so now that your sleep has become more fitful you do find that you have more time to spend together. Your head falling to his shoulder as you whisper to each other, seated as you are upon your bed with blankets draped over your shoulders.

✧ Feren wins your heart time and time again, like the day he lowered you down gently onto the grass of a sunny meadow, basking with you and weaving flowers. He made you a ring, crowned you with a wreath of flowers atop your head, and made another little one to place gently on the curve of your belly, bringing your heart to soar.

Bard

✧ Uncertainty wracks your heart and wrings your hands at the would-be-cheerful news. In fact, you yourself do feel joy, have since your suspicions were confirmed, but would Bard see it the same way? He already has three mouths to feed, three children all old enough to take care of themselves. Will he wish to start it all over so? "What's wrong, love? Your lip is bleeding." So it is. You've practically gnawed the poor thing off in all your stewing. A sigh escapes you. Bard is your husband. No sense in delaying a very necessary conversation. "I know we should have spoken more about it..." You begin, trailing off. At once, Bard senses your reservation and rises to your side, taking hold of your arms; the love in his dark eyes brings a small smile to your lips and relaxes you slightly. "I'm with child, Bard." Almost childlike is the wonder and joy spreading across your face, and before you can say another word you are being pulled into Bard's chest, face snuggling into the fur of his coat.

✧ He knows what to expect, naturally, so Bard is definitely not the type of husband to gripe about your requests, though he does smirk and poke fun if you’re especially outrageous with it or have a funny enough delivery. Then kisses you if you pout about it before fetching what you seek.

✧ Caution overtakes you and your husband as you make to tell his older children the news, particularly you, but your wringing hands relax when you can see the joy in their eyes, particularly the girls! They hope the baby is another girl, hugging you so tight you almost cannot breathe, but you complain not.

✧ Happy is Bard to take on assistance cooking; he knows it can make you sick sometimes and besides, it's a nice excuse to make sure you get all the nutrients you need! You are certainly very lucky in the skill and domesticity of your spouse.

✧ Stands behind you and reaches his arms around you, lifting up the weight you carry and smiling, kissing your neck and cheeks as you relax from your burden.

✧ He also has no qualms about making you rest, down even to physically lifting you up and carrying you to bed if he must!

Beorn

✧ Hesitant as he always would have claimed to be about bringing more Skin-Changers into a world so cruel to them, Beorn feels his nesting instincts kick in very quickly after you become his wife. You see it in the things he gathers, the way your husband moves things such as your blades to higher, safer locations. He is anticipating something. Something you cannot help pulling him aside and asking about, and when your feelings on the subject are made known, well, it is entirely possible you conceived that very night.

✧ Beorn has an almost eerie sense for all the changes taking place in your body. You feel a sharp pain in your back, and without a word your husband is behind you, ushering you down for a massage with some of the oils he's pressed.

✧ The aforementioned nesting instincts manifest early on, your husband carefully blunting corners and tucking away the best blankets so the little one-or ones!- will be nothing but safe and comfortable.

✧ Withdrawn as he could be, Beorn's affection is drawn out by your condition, his big brown eyes soft upon you as he pulls you into his lap, large hands secure about your waist and sliding gently up and down your growing belly.

✧ And grow it does! It seems to get heavier by the day, but that is explained thanks to your husband's exceptional hearing. "Four heartbeats. One is yours. A litter- three are coming!" Spots dance in your vision at that news, but Beorn's smile as he grips your hand brings you back to the light. You could do it with him by your side. "Our little litter."

✧ He attempts to reassure you anytime your anxiety grows. "My dearest flower, I have delivered hundreds of calves and piglets in my day! You will see this through." Reassuring? Perhaps not so much. But in your heightened emotion, that does break you into a wild laughter that does indeed relax you nonetheless.

Want to meet the little ones? Perhaps there will be a Part 2 😉

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[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

[mingi-s-dimples]

Strictly Confidential - San

~"Hiii❤️Can you pls write one where you are the mafia San’s lawyer, but since you are kind hearted and innocent ( not naive) he got his eyes on you??Corruption kink, (iffff it’s ok with you reader can be a virgin), dirty talk (including how much he was longing for you and waiting to take you), mild bondage, possessiveness, (reader has a crush on San too but wouldn’t think San would even look at them), pampering reader while ripping them into half <3 thank youuu❤️" ~ sweetie you also added sth about pregnancy but unfortunately I don't write those😞 but I loved the idea so I just didn't add the pregnancy talk ^^ hope you like ittt 🤍

pairing: ceo!san x lawyer fem!reader

genre: filth, 18+

summary: your outfit is *just* a little bit too revealing for San to not react.. and later that evening, he drops on his knees for you, then he ruins you.

wc: 5.5k

warnings: ceo!san, possessive san, slightly controlling san, corruption kink *just slightly*, reader is a virgin, restraining/light bondage (her hands tied up with san's belt), office sex, he doesn't even bother to take her skirt off, san's desperate, he eats her out, multiple orgasms, cursing, dirty talk/degradation (slut), praising (good girl), ass spanking, face pushing (into the desk), pounding *literally*, vaginal sex, teasing, unprotected (booo use protection irl!), completely consensual!, for sure forgot something, might edit later.

Author's Note: why do I feel like this one is written better than my last San request..? either way y'all will see I DAMN enjoyed writing this one 😂 the detailssss sjsjshsuushs controlling san sjshshshs possessive san ajsjshhs and so on I'm biting my knuckles as we speak. I hope you all enjoy it ^^ ly guys 🎀

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and does not represent the reality of the member in any way.

You should’ve known the outfit would push him too far.

It wasn’t intentional—at least, not at first. The silk blouse, a shade too light, clung in ways that weren’t entirely professional, the top button left undone just enough to hint at something softer underneath. The skirt hugged your waist, cutting off at mid-thigh when you sat, revealing just a sliver more skin than usual. It wasn’t indecent. It wasn’t against the rules. But it was enough.

Enough to make Choi San snap.

You’ve been his lawyer for months now—long enough to know that he watches you more than he should. Long enough to catch the way his gaze lingers when you speak, dark eyes dropping to your mouth before flicking back up as if he didn’t mean to. Long enough to hear the shift in his voice when he says your name, the slow drag of it on his tongue.

You’ve known, and you’ve played along—just a little. Just enough to keep things interesting.

But today, something is different and you feel it the second you step into his office.

San is already standing, a rare thing given that he usually prefers to remain seated behind his desk, lazy and composed, as if the world itself is something he can toy with at his leisure. But now, he’s braced against the edge of his desk, arms crossed, eyes pinned on you the moment the door clicks shut behind you.

His silence is thick, crackling with something dark and unreadable.

Slowly, you set your leather portfolio onto the desk, tilting your head ever so slightly. “Something wrong, Mr. Choi?”

The corner of his mouth twitches, but it isn’t a smile. It’s something sharper. “Come here.”

A demand, not a request.

You raise a brow. “I thought we had business to discuss.”

“I won’t repeat myself.”

It’s a warning. A test.

And you should say no. You should keep things professional. You should sit in the chair across from his desk like you always do, open your portfolio, and get straight to business. But you don’t.

Instead, you take a step forward. Then another.

San stays perfectly still, watching, waiting, as if savoring the moment. When you finally stop in front of him, barely an arm’s length away, you can feel the warmth radiating from his body, the scent of leather and spice wrapping around you like a slow-burning fire.

He tilts his head, studying you like a puzzle he’s about to dismantle. Then, his eyes drop—slow, deliberate.

Your blouse. Your throat. The delicate slope of your collarbone. The soft curve of your chest where the undone button reveals just a little too much.

His jaw tightens.

And just like that, you realize—he’s been holding himself back.

For months, he’s played this game with you, circling, waiting, indulging in stolen glances and veiled innuendos. But today, you’ve tipped the scales. Today, you’ve worn something that makes him forget to be careful.

San exhales through his nose, almost like he’s amused, almost like he’s irritated with himself. Then, without warning, he reaches out.

Fingers curl under your chin, tilting your face up.

“You did this on purpose.” His voice is low, rougher than before.

You don’t flinch. Don’t waver. Instead, you smile—slow, knowing. “Did what?”

San laughs, but there’s no humor in it. “Cute.”

His thumb brushes over your jaw, barely a whisper of a touch, but the intent behind it is unmistakable. He’s testing. Measuring.

And you let him.

Because for all his power, for all his control—he’s the one unraveling.

His gaze dips to your lips, lingers there. When he speaks again, his voice is even lower, dangerously smooth.

“You walk in here looking like this and expect me to behave?”

“I expect you to be professional,” you say, and you make sure to let the words drip with teasing, with something that is not quite innocence but plays at the edges of it.

San hums. “Is that what you want?”

His fingers trail down, brushing the column of your throat.

You don’t answer.

Not with words.

Instead, you tilt your head slightly, just enough for his thumb to press against the hollow of your throat. Just enough to let him feel the pulse beneath your skin.

San stills.

Then—he moves.

One hand splays against your hip, gripping, tugging you closer until you’re barely a breath apart. His other hand trails up, slipping beneath the loose collar of your blouse, fingertips skimming over bare skin. It’s barely a touch, barely anything at all—yet it sets every nerve alight.

“You’re not as innocent as you look.” His voice is dark, laced with something dangerously indulgent.

You smile, lashes lowering just slightly. “I never said I was.”

San’s grip tightens.

And for the first time since you stepped into his office, you think you might have miscalculated.

Because you’ve been teasing him for months. Playing at the edges of this, knowing he wanted you but never letting him have enough to tip the scales.

But now?

Now, you can feel it—the shift, the moment he decides.

He isn’t going to let you play anymore.

You should resist.

You should step back, put distance between you and the man currently pressing you into the edge of his desk like he has every intention of keeping you there.

But you don’t.

Not really.

Instead, you let your hands press against his chest, the silk of his dress shirt warm beneath your fingertips. It’s a flimsy excuse for protest, a barrier that does nothing because you both know—if you really wanted to stop him, you would.

San catches the movement, and for a moment, he stills.

Dark eyes flicker to yours, sharp and assessing, scanning your face for something—hesitation, uncertainty, anything that might make him reconsider.

You arch a brow, lips curling just slightly. “A little desperate, aren’t we?”

San exhales sharply through his nose, and then—he laughs.

Low, rough, almost wrecked.

And then he moves.

Faster than you expect, pinning you between the hard edge of his desk and the even harder press of his body. His hand slides up, fingers catching your wrist, pressing your palm flat against his chest. The other settles low on your waist, fingertips digging in just enough to make your breath hitch.

“You have no idea,” he murmurs.

Your heart stutters.

Because you’ve had a crush on him for months.

Ever since you first met him, ever since you realized the sharp-edged CEO persona wasn’t just for show. He was powerful, ruthless, magnetic in a way that made people obey without question. And yet, he’d always been just a little different with you. Always watching, always waiting.

But you never let yourself believe he actually wanted you.

Not like this.

Not enough to snap.

San must see something in your expression, because his grip tightens. “You think I haven’t noticed?” His voice is smooth, but there’s something else beneath it—something rough, something frayed. “You think I haven’t seen the way you play with me?”

His lips brush against your cheek, not quite kissing, not quite touching, just a slow, maddening drag of heat.

“You walk into my office every week, looking like you don’t belong in a place like this, looking like you shouldn’t be anywhere near men like me.”

His mouth ghosts over your jaw, just shy of where you want him.

“And yet…” His hand slides lower, fingers teasing over the fabric of your skirt. “You always let me get too close.”

A slow, teasing exhale against your skin.

“You’ve been testing me, haven’t you?”

Your breath catches, but you refuse to give him the satisfaction of an immediate response.

So instead, you tilt your head ever so slightly, forcing him to drag his lips against your skin in the process. “Maybe,” you whisper.

San curses under his breath.

And the next second he’s kissing you.

Hard. Desperate.

It’s not soft, not tentative—it’s months of restraint snapping like a live wire. His hand slides up, tangling in your hair, angling your head back to deepen the kiss, to take more. His tongue parts your lips, claiming your mouth with a hunger that makes your knees weak.

He kisses like he owns you. Like he’s been waiting for this, for you, for far too long.

Your fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt, pulling, clawing, needing more.

San groans against your lips, and then he’s pulling back just enough to look at you. His pupils are blown wide, his lips are red from kissing you, and he looks completely, utterly wrecked.

“I’ve waited for this.” His voice is rough, frayed with something unspoken. “You think I didn’t notice you? That I didn’t feel it every single time you walked through that door, acting so fucking innocent, knowing damn well what you were doing to me?”

His fingers tighten on your waist, like he’s barely holding himself back.

“I wanted to ruin you the moment I met you.”

Your breath shudders.

San notices. Smirks.

“Is that what you want, sweetheart?” His voice dips lower, teasing. “You want me to take what you’ve been tempting me with?”

You shouldn’t say yes.

You should make him work for it.

But the way he looks at you—the way his body presses against yours, the way his fingers trace slow, maddening circles over your hip—has you completely undone.

So instead, you breathe, “Yes.”

And that’s all it takes.

San makes a sound—something dark, something pleased—before his lips crash back against yours, hungry and unrelenting. His hands are everywhere, gripping, pressing, mapping out every inch of you like he wants to memorize it.

He kisses down your throat, sucks a mark into your skin, groaning when you arch into him. “Mine,” he murmurs against your collarbone. “You don’t get to tease me anymore. Not after this.”

You shudder, nails digging into his shoulders.

And then, finally, you surrender completely.

San doesn’t hesitate.

One moment, you’re standing against his desk, breathless from the force of his kiss, and the next—his hands are gripping your waist, lifting you with ease. A gasp slips past your lips as he sets you down onto the cool wooden surface, the shift in height making you acutely aware of how much he towers over you.

The movement sends half the contents of his desk crashing to the floor. A pen rolls somewhere unseen. Papers scatter in a careless mess. He doesn’t care.

Neither do you.

Not when his hands slide up your thighs, spreading them just enough to make space for himself between them. Not when his mouth crashes back onto yours, all heat and teeth, breathy and desperate, like he’s trying to devour you whole.

It’s overwhelming.

The way he kisses you—possessive, unrelenting, like he’s been starved for this, for you. His hands grip your waist, fingers digging in as if he’s anchoring himself to you, as if letting go isn’t an option.

And you—

You kiss him back just as fiercely.

Your hands find purchase in his suit jacket, tugging him closer, needing more, gasping softly when he presses flush against you. His warmth, his scent—everything about him consumes you.

Then—

You break away.

Not because you want to, but because there’s something you need to say.

Your chest rises and falls, lips kiss-bruised, head spinning. San doesn’t move away, his forehead pressing against yours, breath hot against your lips.

“What?” His voice is wrecked, strained with restraint he’s barely holding onto.

Your fingers tighten against his jacket.

“I—I’m a virgin.”

San stills.

Completely.

You watch as his expression shifts—dark eyes flickering with something unreadable, something dangerous. His grip on your waist tightens for a second before he stills again, as if forcing himself to process what you just said.

Then—

He exhales sharply, running his tongue along his bottom lip, and the slow, wicked curl of his mouth makes your stomach flip.

“Fuck.”

The word is low, rough, dragged out like he’s savoring it.

His hands move again, sliding over your thighs with newfound purpose, fingertips teasing against your exposed skin. He leans in, lips grazing over your jaw, down the column of your throat, tracing the shape of you with agonizing precision.

“You’re serious?” he murmurs against your skin.

You swallow hard, nodding.

San lets out another rough exhale, then pulls back just enough to meet your gaze. His pupils are blown wide, his expression dark with something unreadable, something deeply, deeply pleased.

“You have no idea,” he says slowly, deliberately, “what that does to me.”

Your breath hitches.

His lips find yours once more, but this time, the kiss is different. Slower, more calculated, yet no less intense. He kisses you like he’s savoring the moment, like he’s memorizing the way you taste, the way you respond to every touch, every shift of his body against yours.

His fingers trail up, reaching the buttons of your blouse, and he undoes them one by one, exposing more of you with every slow, deliberate flick of his hands. He doesn’t rush.

No—San takes his time.

And you let him.

Your breath stutters when he pushes the fabric aside, revealing bare skin, delicate lace. The cool air makes you shiver—or maybe it’s just him, the way his gaze darkens as he drinks in the sight of you.

He curses under his breath.

His fingers twitch like he wants to touch, to claim, to devour.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmurs, voice thick with something reverent, something wrecked.

And then—

He starts undoing his own buttons.

The sight alone has you utterly mesmerized.

You watch, transfixed, as he shrugs off his jacket, as he unbuttons his dress shirt, revealing inch after inch of smooth, sculpted skin. He moves slowly, almost teasingly, as if drawing out the moment just to watch your reaction.

And you—

You can’t help but stare.

San is unfairly gorgeous.

Broad shoulders, toned muscles, a physique that looks like it was carved by gods themselves. The way the soft glow of the office light catches against the lines of his body, the dips and curves of his abdomen, the sharp cut of his collarbones—it's intoxicating.

And then, your gaze drops lower.

And you freeze.

Oh.

You swallow hard, suddenly feeling the full weight of his cock straining against his pants and pressing on your body.

San catches your reaction, and the smirk that pulls at his lips is nothing short of devastating.

“Mesmerized?” His voice is low, teasing, laced with amusement and something else—something darker.

You don’t answer.

Can’t.

Not when the heat of his body is so close, not when his fingers are still trailing over your skin, slow and deliberate.

And then, he leans in, lips brushing against your ear as he whispers—

“You should be.”

San watches you like he’s already won.

Like you’ve been his from the moment you walked into his office, oblivious to the fire you were playing with.

His fingers trace along your exposed collarbone, slow and teasing, barely touching, but enough to make your skin prickle with heat. His eyes drag over you, dark and ravenous, taking in the way your chest rises and falls with every breath, the way your thighs are still parted for him, your skirt hiked up from how recklessly he had pulled you onto his desk.

Then—he smirks.

That slow, knowing smirk that makes something in your stomach coil tight.

“You really have no idea what you’ve done, do you?” His voice is deep, smooth as silk, but there’s a sharp edge to it.

You swallow, fingers curling against the desk, but you don’t answer.

He tilts his head, almost amused. “Showing up dressed like that—” His hands slide down, fingers skimming the fabric of your skirt, teasing at the hem. “Looking so damn innocent but wearing something like this? You were begging for it.”

Your breath catches, a slow heat creeping up your spine.

San leans in, lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, “Such a little whore, dressing like this just to test me.”

A sharp inhale leaves you.

He chuckles darkly, dragging his lips down to your neck, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to your skin. “Did you think I wouldn’t notice?” His tongue flicks against your pulse point, his teeth scraping just enough to make your breath hitch. “Or were you hoping I’d lose control?”

His fingers tighten on your waist.

“Because you got exactly what you wanted.”

Your head spins.

He’s too much—his voice, his hands, the way he’s looking at you like he’s about to ruin you in ways you never even imagined.

San pulls back just enough to meet your gaze, and something dark flickers behind his eyes.

Then—

He gets an idea.

His smirk deepens as he looks over your shoulder at the discarded mess on the floor. Then, before you can question it, he steps back slightly, reaching down.

A soft rustle of fabric, the quiet slide of leather—

And then you see it.

The belt he had discarded with his pants that pooled at his ankles.

Your stomach flips.

San runs his tongue over his bottom lip, holding the belt loosely in one hand, testing the weight of it. Then, he meets your gaze again, and for the first time since this started—you shiver.

Possessive.

That’s the only word for the way he looks at you now.

Like you belong to him.

Like he’s about to make sure you never forget it.

“You’ve had too much freedom tonight,” he murmurs, stepping back into your space, the belt dangling from his fingers. “And I think it’s about time we fix that.”

Your pulse spikes.

San reaches for you, his hands trailing down your arms before he gently—so gently—grabs your wrists.

“Give them to me.”

It’s not a request.

It’s a command.

Your lips part slightly, but when you don’t immediately respond, San hums, tilting his head. “Oh?” He smirks. “Are you hesitating now?”

He presses closer, making you lean back slightly, making you feel the solid weight of his body.

“That’s cute.”

You swallow hard, the heat between you becoming unbearable.

San’s fingers tighten ever so slightly around your wrists. “I’ll tell you right now, sweetheart—” His voice dips, eyes locked onto yours. “If I tie you up, I’m not letting you go anytime soon.”

A slow, deliberate pause.

Then, he leans in and whispers against your lips—

“You sure you can handle that?”

Your breath is shallow, chest rising and falling as San watches you, waiting. His fingers tighten around your wrists, the belt still dangling from his hand, ready to bind you, ready to claim every inch of control you’ve willingly given up.

And you—

You should hesitate.

You should resist, tease him a little longer.

But you don’t.

Instead, you tilt your chin up, meeting his gaze with a slow, deliberate smirk. “Do it, then.”

A flicker of something dark—dangerous—passes through his eyes. Then, his smirk returns, sharp and satisfied. “Good girl.”

The leather is cool against your skin as he pulls your wrists behind your back, looping the belt around them with practiced ease. It’s not too tight—just enough to hold you there, to remind you who’s in control.

He tugs once, testing the restraint, then hums in approval. “Perfect.”

Before you can process the way your body reacts to that single word, San moves.

His hands slide to your thighs, gripping firmly as he pulls you forward.

Hard.

A gasp leaves your lips as your body jerks, dragged right to the edge of the desk. Your legs part instinctively to accommodate the shift, your breath catching as you feel the undeniable heat of him between them.

San watches your reaction with a lazy smirk. “That’s better.”

Then—

He drops to his knees.

San doesn’t even look away from you as he does it, his movements deliberate, dripping with control. The sight alone—his broad shoulders between your legs, his dark, hungry gaze looking up at you like he’s about to devour you whole—leaves you breathless.

And then—his hands move again.

He doesn’t bother with your skirt.

No.

He slides his fingers along the inside of your thighs, parting them further, his grip firm—possessive. Then, with agonizing slowness, he hooks his fingers into your panties and pulls.

A soft, humiliatingly wet sound follows as he drags the fabric down, exposing just how ruined you already are.

San freezes.

And then—

He chuckles.

A low, deep sound that sends heat shooting straight through your spine.

“Fuck,” he exhales, pressing his thumb against the now-soaked fabric before tossing it somewhere behind him. “Look at you.”

Your face burns, but the way he’s looking at you—with pure, unfiltered hunger—makes shame the last thing on your mind.

Then—he leans in.

And without another word—

He dives in.

San doesn’t hold back.

The moment his mouth touches your folds, a wrecked gasp escapes your lips, your bound hands straining against the belt as your body jerks from the sheer heat of it.

He groans against you, the vibration making you shudder. His grip on your thighs tightens—bruising, possessive—as he presses you further against his mouth, like he’s determined to ruin you.

And he does.

His tongue moves with devastating precision—slow, languid strokes, teasing flicks, then firm pressure against your clit that makes your head spin. He eats you like a man starved, like he’s waited his entire life to have you like this, legs trembling around his shoulders, breathless and undone.

“Fuck,” he rasps, pulling back just enough to look at you. His lips glisten with your arousal, his dark eyes heavy-lidded, wrecked with hunger. “So fucking sweet.”

Your face burns, but before you can process it, he’s back on you, his tongue pressing in deeper, his fingers digging into your thighs to keep you still.

A broken whimper leaves you.

San chuckles—dark, teasing. He pulls back again, dragging his lips over the inside of your thigh, pressing slow, wet kisses against your skin. “Look at you,” he murmurs, voice dripping with amusement and something deeper. “Fucking soaking. And all for me?”

You whine, shifting against his hold, but he doesn’t let up.

His teeth graze your thigh, just enough to make you gasp. “You pretend to be so innocent,” he murmurs, voice thick with heat, “but look at how filthy you are. Spreading your legs so easily, letting me taste you like this.”

Your breath stutters, shame and arousal tangling into something unbearable.

San hums, satisfied. “I bet you’ve thought about this, haven’t you?” He flicks his tongue against your clit again, making you jolt. “Bet you’ve thought about me bending you over this desk. Tearing you apart.”

His words wreck you.

A high, needy moan spills from your lips, your bound hands clenching behind you.

San groans against you. “That’s it,” he breathes, his tongue moving faster now, pushing you closer, higher. His fingers dig into your thighs as he holds you down, refusing to let you escape the pleasure he’s drowning you in.

Your body tightens, the pressure coiling in your stomach unbearably, winding, winding—

Until it snaps.

A sobbed moan rips from your throat as your orgasm crashes over you, wave after wave of blinding pleasure. Your thighs tremble around his shoulders, your back arching as you cry out, utterly wrecked.

San doesn’t stop.

Not until you’re whimpering, twitching, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes from the overstimulation.

Only then does he slow, his tongue giving you one last, languid stroke before pulling back.

He looks ruined.

His lips are swollen, his hair slightly disheveled, his breath ragged as he stares at you, utterly transfixed. Then, he leans in, pressing a lingering kiss to your thigh before standing.

Your dazed gaze drops—

And your breath catches.

His briefs are painfully tight around his cock, the sheer size of him making your stomach flip.

San curses under his breath, yanking them down in one swift motion.

And then—he’s on you.

His hands grip your thighs, spreading you further as he aligns himself, the heat of him pressing against your still-sensitive core.

Your breath stutters. “San—”

He doesn’t wait.

With one slow, deliberate thrust, he pushes inside—

And you break.

A cry rips from your lips, your body arching at the sheer stretch, the way he fills you so completely, so overwhelmingly. Tears prick at your eyes from the intensity of it, from the way he buries himself to the hilt, not moving, just feeling you.

San groans, his forehead pressing against yours, his hands tightening on your waist. “Fuck, baby.” His voice is wrecked, trembling with restraint. “You feel so—” He exhales sharply, dropping a kiss against your lips, almost tender.

He soothes you.

One hand trails up, cupping your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin. “Breathe,” he murmurs, voice soft, but his body trembles against yours, barely holding himself back.

And then—he moves.

Destroying you.

Every thrust is deep, dragging against your sensitive walls with devastating precision, pushing you to the brink of insanity. Your bound hands twist behind you, desperate for something—anything—to hold onto, but there’s nothing.

Nothing but him.

And he knows it.

His grip tightens on your waist as he pulls back, making you feel every inch of him, before sinking in again—so deep, so full that you can’t stop the moan that spills from your lips.

San groans, the sound low and wrecked. “That’s it, baby,” he murmurs, dragging his lips along your jaw, kissing—nipping. “You hear yourself? You're a fucking whiny mess just for me.”

Your face burns, but the humiliation only makes the pleasure worse—makes your body clench around him, desperate for more.

San feels it. And he looses it.

A sharp growl rumbles from his chest as his pace stays agonizingly slow, but his words turn filthy, raw. “You’re so fucking tight,” he groans, rolling his hips deep, making you cry out. “Like you were made for me.”

You are.

The thought is dangerous, but it lingers.

San notices.

His fingers trail up your stomach, his touch warm, teasing, possessive. His other hand cups your jaw, tilting your face toward him, forcing you to meet his gaze. His eyes are dark, ravenous.

“You don’t even know what you’ve done to me,” he murmurs, his thumb brushing over your kiss-swollen lips. “Wearing that little outfit—acting all innocent when you’re dripping for me.”

His hips snap forward, a little harder, and you gasp.

San smirks. “Mhm. That’s what I thought.”

The teasing should make you flinch, should make you want to shy away—but you don’t.

Because you love it.

Because you love him like this—feral, corrupted, completely obsessed with you.

Your moans break into whimpers as his thrusts turn deeper, sharper, but still so slow, so cruelly controlled that your body starts trembling. “San—”

He shushes you.

His lips brush over your temple, soft in contrast to the way he’s utterly wrecking you. “I know, baby,” he murmurs. “I know.”

And yet—

It’s not enough.

For him.

For you.

San curses under his breath, frustration clear in the way his fingers tighten on your waist. “I can’t—” His breath is ragged. “I can’t fucking hold back.”

Before you can process—

San moves.

His grip locks around you, lifting you like you weigh nothing. Your back hits the desk, but before you can fully catch your breath, he flips you over.

Your palms slam against the your back, the belt still binding them, your cheek pressing into the cool surface as San forces you down, arching you for him.

A sharp sound echoes in the room.

You gasp.

San’s palm stays on your ass where he just spanked you, rubbing over the heated skin, his breath heavy behind you. “Mhm,” he hums, dark, pleased.

He leans in, lips brushing your ear.

“That’s more like it.”

Your body is trembling—wrecked, pinned under San’s weight as he presses you against the desk, his grip firm on your waist. His breath is heavy, hot against your skin, his patience fraying with every second.

And then—

You say it.

A teasing little whisper, breathless, barely a murmur—

“San.. you can go- harder.”

A guttural growl rips from his throat, and then—he ruins you.

His grip tightens bruisingly on your hips as he slams into you, deep and relentless, each thrust sharp, overwhelming, making you choke on your own moans.

He pounds into you, his cock pushing impossibly deep, so deep that— He hits your cervix.

A sharp cry tears from your throat, your bound hands clenching behind you as the intense stimulation sends a wave of pleasurable pain crashing over you.

San hears it. Feels it. Loses it.

“Yeah?” he rasps, voice wrecked, his pace punishing. “You wanted this, didn’t you?” He thrusts harder, making you wail. “Wanted me to break you?”

The way he’s holding you—gripping your waist tight, pressing you down deep into the desk, his chest flush against your back as he fucks into you like he’s starving—

It’s too much.

He feels the way you tremble beneath him, the way your body clings to him, drawing him in, taking everything he gives.

His breath is ragged, his groans turning into curses.

“Fucking perfect,” he growls, his thrusts becoming desperate. “So fucking tight, so fucking wet—”

He grips your wrists, still bound behind your back, and pulls, arching you further, making your back bow into him, making you yake him deeper.

A wrecked sob escapes you.

San curses. “That’s it,” he groans, his voice breaking. “Fucking take it.”

He pounds into you, hips snapping, rhythm frenzied, his cock hitting that spot over and over until you’re a mess beneath him—whimpering, crying, begging.

And you could swear he fucking loves it.

“Listen to you,” he pants, his lips brushing over your ear, his breath ragged. “Crying for me—so desperate.”

You are. But he’s no better.

His grip tightens, his thrusts turning frantic, his moans growing shaky, and you can inly feel how damn close he is. And he knows it.

His pace falters for half a second—just long enough for him to lean over you, his lips grazing your ear as he breathes, voice dark, rough, possession dripping from every word—.

“I’ll fill you up just like you’ve probably been fantasizing over for a while, you little slut.”

And then—

He breaks.

A deep, wrecked moan tears from his chest as he thrusts deep, his body shuddering violently as he spills into you, warmth flooding your insides as his grip on your wrists turns almost bruising.

But he doesn’t stop.

Even as he comes, he keeps moving, keeps pounding into you, pushing you over the edge right after him.

Your body shatters.

A high, sobbed moan rips from your throat as pleasure crashes over you, your walls tightening, pulsing around him, drawing out his own orgasm, making him groan, curse, whisper filth and praise against your skin.

You gasp his name—

And San loses himself all over again.

His hips slow, his body shuddering as he rides both of you through your highs, his lips pressing against your shoulder, your spine, soothing you while still wrecking you.

You could barely move.

Your arms are still bound, your body limp against the desk, your breath coming in ragged, exhausted gasps.

San finally stills.

His chest rises and falls against your back, his grip on your wrists loosening, his breath hot against your skin.

And then—

A satisfied, dark chuckle rumbles from his chest.

“That’s my girl.”

San exhales, his grip softening as he slowly lifts you into his arms, cradling you against his chest. His hands are gentle now, his touch the exact opposite of how he just wrecked you. With careful precision, he sets you down on the desk, his fingers immediately moving to untie your wrists.

The moment they’re free, he brings them to his lips, kissing the delicate skin as if to soothe away any marks left behind. His gaze meets yours, still dark, still possessive, but now filled with something softer.

A smirk tugs at his lips. “Can’t have you walking out of here looking like this, baby.”

Before you can respond, he grabs your blouse from where it was discarded, slipping it over your shoulders, his touch slow, careful, reverent. His fingers linger as he buttons it up, his eyes roaming your body like he’s memorizing every inch of you.

Then, he leans in, kissing you.

Deep, slow, lingering. Like he’s still not ready to let go.

When he pulls back, his thumb brushes your lips, his voice a low murmur. “Come on,” he says. “We’re taking a shower.”

Your brows raise slightly. “Here?”

San chuckles, shaking his head. “Not in the office, baby.” He eyes you, his woman, his masterpiece, before smirking. “And I’m sure as hell not letting anyone see you like this on our way there.”

You laugh, amused by his protectiveness, and his smirk widens.

“Laugh all you want,” he muses, scooping you up again. “But you’re mine. And I don’t share.”

NETWORKS:

@blossomnet

@illusionnet

PERMANENT TAGLIST:

@mingleshine @musiclovingfairy @crazylittlebisexual @sanhwalvr @artistic-rendition @hongjoongtime117 @cypher-03 @peachy-bell26 @atiny1 @my-atiny-kookie-rkive @atzlordz @chai0tea @miyaluvvsyou

[scarsrealm]

satisfied. | re6 leon scott kennedy.

blurb

tw: sex, and swearing

<<<

Leon’s head tilted back as you rode him slowly. This sure was a way to relieve his stress from being at work, he needed you. He would occasionally let out a few groans, letting you know he’s having an amazing time. It had been a while since you two were intimate, after all, you both had very busy careers and barely had any time for each other but now, you both didn’t have to worry about that.

You clenched around him, making his hands tightly grasp onto your hips, pulling your body up and down onto him. “Yeah, just like that, fuckk..” he growled, you stared deeply into his eyes, seeing nothing but lust and desire. He was happy he finally got to be inside you again after all these weeks, “L-l-Leon…” you whimpered in his ear, it just turned him on even more. He thrusted harder into you making you gasp, he chuckled at your noises and lightly slapped your backside.

"That's a good girl." he cooed. You smiled, leaning in to kiss him. His grip on you was so strong, you were sure that his fingers were gonna leave bruises on you but you didn't care, he was giving you so much pleasure. “I missed you." you moaned, "I know, baby, me, too."

You were so close to your high, he could tell, he was almost there too. Your breathing became faster, he thrusted deeper into you, making the bed creak. “Fuck!” You cried out, reaching your high. Leon felt you clench around him, his orgasm followed shortly after yours. Your head laid against his chest, your breathing calming down. “I’m not done with you, yet." he whispered, sending shivers down your spine.

"What are you—“

Before you could finish, Leon pulled out of you, flipped you over so that your back was laying against the bed and thrusted back into you. “L-Leon..! I c-can’t!..." you moaned. He smirked at your reaction, knowing that he could make you feel this way. “I know you’re sensitive, baby, but I know you can take it."

He started at a slow pace, letting you get adjusted to him again. You were so warm and tight around him, he felt like he was in heaven. He started to pick up his pace, thrusting harder into you. He was hitting that right spot inside you, making you see stars.

The way he was fucking you, it was almost like you guys were having sex for the first time. You couldn’t help but wrap your arms around his neck and pull him in for a heated kiss, he returned it eagerly.

He kept thrusting into you, you were almost there again. His grip on your hips was so tight, his fingertips would leave marks on you for a while. He groaned, he could feel your walls tighten around him, indicating that you were about to cum.

"Mmm, cum for me, baby.." he purred.

Those words were enough to push you over the edge. You came for the second time that night, he soon followed, taking himself out and cumming on your chest.

He fell onto the bed, next to you, catching his breath. You felt ruined, the room was quiet except for the sound of you both breathing heavily. You were so tired and sore. You laid on his chest, listening to his heartbeat.

" You okay?” He asked, breaking the silence.

"Y-yeah, I'm fine,” you replied, looking up at him, He smiled and planted a kiss on your lips, “But now I have to get in the shower..”

***

A/n: still working on the yandere Leon fic lol, this is just something to post😂

[mikaela-the-slut-expert]

can you do a hualian x m reader. Like they had a relationship with Xie Lian a long time ago and then they ‘die ‘ or something. They are actually just staying away because they feel like they failed or didn’t protect Xie Lian. Then they see him and hua cheng together and they just look so happy so of course they are happy for xie lian and stay away. Eventually they meet again and Xie Lian is desperate to involve them in the relationship as well. Just all angsty then fluffy 😂

Dragged In

HuaLian x M!reader

Xie Lian is very happy with his life

He has friends, they've saved the heavens, he has a stable life, which is much better than it was back then.

Most of all he has San Lang.

Xie Lian is so grateful he's found someone to love him through everything

That doesn't mean he doesn't miss you

He hasn't seen you in a long time and every now and then he thinks of you.

That's a lie he's always thinking of you.

But he's already accepted that you would never come back and you- you would want him to be happy so Xie Lian doesn't feel guilty for loving San Lang

He still spends late nights telling San Lang about you, telling him about your life about the two of you.

Sometimes Xie Lian makes off hand comments like, "he would have liked this" or " this was his favorite"

San Lang doesn't mind, he loves Xie Lian and he talks very fondly of you. So San Lang likes you too

Although you guys have never met San Lang feels like he has. Xie Lian is very good at telling someones story

You died a long time ago, which was very unfortunate.

That's why Xie Lian talks about you so much, you were his first love and it's been years, centuries. He's scared to forget you.

You didn't deserve the death you were given and you don't deserve to be forgotten either.

Welp good thing you aren't dead!

Not that Xie Lian knows.

You've just been ghosting around, staying in the shadows.

It took you a while but you were able to become a pretty powerful ghost.

Now you can see Xie Lian all the time, just. . . From far away.

You would love to be close with Xie Lian again but he's already so happy

He has a husband and a lovely, stable life after so long.

You don't want to ruin that

You've been watching for a while, you especially don't want to hurt San Lang.

You don't want to break them up and make him feel lesser.

Silly thoughts, Xie Lian would've opened his arms for you.

Which he did. Because Xie Lian isn't dumb and neither is San Lang.

They definitely aren't blind

One can only go so long seeing small flashes of colored robes in the shadows of ghost city.

One can only go so long seeing strands of long colored hair that reminds Xie Lian of the man who's hair he used to run fingers through.

One can only go so long seeing the ghost of a man that he used to know

It's not hard to find you when you peer around ghost city so curiously.

You were always curious, always observant, always watching

So is San Lang

San Lang would do anything for Xie Lian that includes finding you.

When Xie Lian tells San Lang of his troubles, that he's been seeing you and he wishes you were still here

Well he goes to find you of course, he can do it especially since you're in his city.

It's easy pickings.

You know what Hua Cheng looks like but not San Lang.

So when a young man in maple Robes starts asking you for help, who are you to deny?

He needs help finding paradise manor? Alright you've mesmerized the way like the back of your hand!

Plus you can check up on Xie Lian while you're there!

It doesn't go the way you thought when suddenly San Lang is pushing you through the doors of paradise manor and grabbing you by the sleeve so he can take you to Xie Lian.

Look what the fox dragged in!

At first Xie Lian thinks he's gone crazy.

You died, he saw you die!

But now here you are in the hands of San Lang -who is very proud of himself by the way-.

While you sputter for words, Xie Lian is pouncing on you.

He hasn't seen you in centuries and now here you are in his arms, he's so happy he can't help but kiss you right then and there.

It was a beautiful moment but it was quickly broken when you ever so gently pushed him away and stood up from the floor.

Xie Lian's expression turns to heartbreak and San Lang grabs you to make you stay.

Ain't no way you're going to make his Dianxia dad when he worked so hard to find you

You eventually explain that you feel selfish, you feel like you would be taking Xie Lian from San Lang. That you can't believe Xie Lian so readily kisses you when San Lang was standing right there.

You're so nervous but Xie Lian eventually laughs at you. Soft chuckles, and crow feet

He wraps his arms around you and Xie Lian takes a lot of time in explaining that he loves both of you

And there's no reason you all can't be together.

He can share, there's enough love for everyone

There's no way he's letting you go anywhere because you feel self righteous

He wants you to be selfish and he wants to spoil you with his affections after he was robbed of it

So you were basically dragged into a relationship with San Lang and Xie Lian.

For you it takes some getting used to, but your lovers are patient and they spoil you endlessly

Surprisingly enough you and San Lang get along great and he loves spending his fortunes on you.

You deserve it and Xie Lian likes to see it too

How lucky you are.🦊🪷