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juyeonszn · 5 months

Text

EXCITEMENT

PAIRING ji changmin x f!reader

WORD COUNT 6.22k

GENRES smut ﹒angst ﹒fluff

WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, mature language, best friends to lovers, numerous mentions of the female orgasm, ji changmin is a bit of a manwhore, mentions of alcohol, insane tension my b, intense making out x2, oral (m! and f! receiving), multiple orgasms, couch sex but missionary, unprotected sex (wrap before u fucking tap -_-), creampie, changmin is lowkey very whipped and very pussy drunk in this, also forewarning for every fic in this collab— there is lots of foreshadowing and references to the other fics since they all fall within the same timeline/universe!

SUMMARY you know, when you told your girl friends that you’d never finished before, you were expecting it to blow over like no big deal. what you weren’t expecting was for it to spiral into a whole other mess.

MORE i hope u jichang lovers are strapped in and ready for this… kinda went crazy with it 😭😭 um anyway?? first fic of the black out or back out collab?? crazy!! this fic actually ruined me. it used up all my brain power so if every other one sucks u can’t blame me!! it’s the law!! also, i’d like to take a moment to wish my boyz a very happy 6th anniversary <3 so so proud of all they’ve accomplished these past 6 years and i can’t wait to see what they do in the next 6. in this deobi shit 4L frfr 🙏🙏

PERM TAGLIST @winterchimez @maessseongs @itsbeeble @zzoguri @deoboyznet @cloverdaisies @vernyangel

TAGLIST @millksea

“No fucking way.”

You blink at Soyeon. It wasn’t that hard to believe. In fact, it was pretty easy to believe. You set down the bowl of popcorn on your lap and nod slowly.

“Uh, yeah. Yes fucking way,” a nervous laugh escapes your lips. “I’ve had to fake it with every guy I’ve ever been with. I don’t know what it is. Maybe something’s wrong with me.”

Men were… incompetent at certain things. And apparently your pleasure was one of those. Every dude you’ve ever slept with failed to make you finish. It was at the point that you felt that you were the problem. It would be understandable if it had been a couple guys, but every single one? Your luck had to be complete ass.

The only reason the topic had been brought up was because Soyeon had mentioned something about her last fling during your movie night. She was talking about how that had been the best sex she's ever had and it spurred you into making your confession. The last guy you’d been with had probably been the worst.

“Never?” Jiwon’s jaw drops, elbows resting on her knees. “How are you still alive, girl? How do you get your fix?”

“My hand, my vibrator, my pillow sometimes,” you shrug, picking at a loose thread on your blanket. “I’ve learned to make do with my situation, I guess. If I can’t get it elsewhere, I’ll just do it myself, y’know?”

Your girl friends look at you with pouts on their lips, as if they were the ones experiencing your misfortunes. You hadn’t even expected it to be such a big deal. You’d thought this was a normal, common occurrence. Boys usually sucked at things when it came to girls. But they all took this as a personal hit, like you were a fallen soldier in battle.

Perhaps the female orgasm was far more important than you assumed it to be.

“Considering who your best friend is, you’d think you were getting good dick left and right,” Dahyun snorts into her glass of wine. “This is actually kinda insane.”

You guess she had a point, despite you both leading very different lives. Changmin, your best friend, was known as one of the many heartthrobs on campus. He was in a fraternity, played on the school’s baseball team, and he even played with other things. Namely the hearts of practically every other girl at your university.

You’d think it would bother you to be so close to a man who couldn’t give less of a fuck about those of the same sex as you. But for some reason, you couldn’t find it in you to care. It’s not like he was bragging about the bitches he bagged on a regular basis. Though you were his best friend, he understood boundaries. He knew what was appropriate to talk about with you and respected that.

Your friends laugh at her observation, but drop the conversation after that, resuming the movie you were watching. However, it’s not that easy for you.

You can’t stop wondering if something really *is wrong with you. Why was it that everyone and their mom was capable of finishing and you weren’t? It was more unlikely that every single man you’ve been with sexually was that mediocre. Were you really that unlucky?

It bothers you so much that you find yourself still thinking about it well into the following week.

With the start of the new semester, came the adjustment of new classes. Even though you were a Communications major, you made the grave mistake of taking Lifespan Growth and Development with Changmin for the extra credit. He was an Early Childhood Education major, so it was a requirement for him, but not for you. (Honestly, he only forced you to take it with him so you had at least one lecture together. He was afraid your friendship might start to fade if you didn’t see each other often.)

Imagine how horrified you felt when your professor began to talk about babies and their circadian rhythm, but the only thing in your head was the fact that you’d never orgasmed because of a man. You felt like you were going crazy at this point. Really, the thought should’ve been long forgotten by now. But you couldn’t help yourself from dwelling on it, especially after your friends made jokes at your expense.

As you’re walking out of the lecture hall side by side with Changmin, you keep your focus on the ground, your hearing going in and out. His voice is staticy, your brain only registering words here and there. You’re a little pissed off that this has become such an issue.

He notices your lack of response and stops walking, eyebrows furrowed. You pause in your tracks along with him. “Are you good? You’ve been spacing out all morning.”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you shake your head as if that would rid of these stupid thoughts. “I’m just a little tired, I guess. I haven’t been getting much sleep.”

“Well, you better fix that. We’re expecting this weekend’s party to be one of the bigger ones this semester. Juyeon’s passing those fliers around like it’s his job,” Changmin purses his lips with a snort, ruffling your hair. “I need my beer pong partner to be in tip-top shape.”

You scratch the back of your neck. Half of you was kind of hesitant to go to this weekend’s TBZ party considering that was where you met the dude who started this whole downward spiral. He made an offhand comment about seeing you again, but you were actually hoping that would never happen. And with your fortune, the probability of running into him was pretty high.

“You see…“ You begin, but Changmin interrupts you with a distressed groan before you can continue.

“Don’t tell me you’re thinking of flaking,” his arms fall to his sides as his head tips back dramatically. “Y/N, I really need you there. How else am I gonna smoke everyone? I need— I mean we need to keep our title.”

Sometimes you wish Ji Changmin took anything else as seriously as he takes beer pong. You suppose it came with being a fraternity brother or something. They all drank alcohol like it was fucking water. You’re still sort of surprised none of them (Sunwoo) has gotten alcohol poisoning yet.

“I’m just… trying to avoid someone. And they’ll probably be there.” You sigh, fiddling with your fingers. Your best friend gives you an unreadable look that flashes across his face only for a moment.

“Tell me who it is. I’ll make sure they’re not allowed in. I’d much rather have you there than some rando who’s bugging you.” He says, shoving his hands into the pockets of his cargo pants.

“That’s really unne—“

“Yo, Changmin! Aren’t you going with us to Cobie’s?”

You both turn towards the sudden intrusion, the voice belonging to Eric Sohn. He’s around 50 feet away from where you’re standing, joined by Kim Sunwoo and Ju Haknyeon. Changmin yells out his answer and spins back to you, an apologetic smile on his face. Somehow, you’re a little grateful for the interruption.

“We’ll finish this later, okay?” He nods at you, heading backwards in their direction. “You’re going, Y/N.”

You really should’ve listened to your instincts when they told you to skip out on the party.

You’re well aware that every attendee was crucial for the TBZ boys and their stupid rivalry with the KAT girls. So maybe you understood why Changmin needed you there so badly, aside from the obvious beer pong thing. However, you were starting to regret showing up.

First of all, Ji Changmin was nowhere to be found. Second of all, Jeon Soyeon was hounding you all night about the secret you so idiotically shared with your gal pals.

She was dead set on finding you a solution. (Basically, she was scanning the crowd of partygoers for a suitable man to satisfy your overdue needs. And she was proving devastatingly unsuccessful.)

You were too anxious to drink, also. Your feet were bouncing from where you sat on the couch, and your fingers couldn’t stop fidgeting. The antsiness was getting annoying at this point and you were hoping your knight in shining armor (Ji Changmin) revealed himself soon. Lest he wanted to lose out on his beloved beer pong partner.

It appears that your years of honing in on your manifestation powers have finally come to fruition when you spot Younghoon and Juyeon hauling the beer pong table into the living room. Where one of those tables are stationed, you know you’re guaranteed to find your best friend. The shorter of the two gentle giants cups his hands around his mouth and announces the first round of tonight’s tournament.

You stand from your seat, grabbing the opportunity to break free of Soyeon’s efforts to pimp you out. You’re ready to confirm you and Changmin’s spot in the tournament, when you see that you’ve already been beaten to it. It takes absolutely everything in you not to let your jaw drop and your eyes to tear up.

Some girl who happens to be in your Lifespan Growth and Dev class (you think her name is Iseul) is draped over Changmin’s arm, signing them up for the first round. He doesn’t look like he wants to, but makes no effort to refuse her.

You don’t know why it irks you. It shouldn’t irk you.

You’ve never cared about who he spends his free time with in the past. It’s been so easy for you to let his behavior slide, brushing it under the rug like it was no biggie. But this time, you care a whole lot. You chalk it up to the fact that he was seemingly replacing you as his beer pong partner, even though that was the entire reason why he wanted you to come to the party.

Yeah. That’s why.

Your tongue darts out to wet your lips just as Hyunjae passes by, no doubtedly heading to the beer pong table. You catch the sleeve of his polo and force him to halt in his steps. You’re not even sure why the hell he’s wearing a polo in the first place, his outfit embodying the stereotypical frat boy perfectly. This looked nothing like his usual wardrobe.

“Oh, hey Y/N, what’s up?” He smiles that award-winning Hyunjae smile, the one that manages to charm every girl in the room every single time he pulls it out. He brings the brim of his red solo cup up to his lips and finishes whatever’s left in it with one swig. Maybe this was a bad idea.

“Do you wanna be my beer pong partner?” Okay, well now you’ve said it so there’s no going back.

His eyebrow shoots up in a mixture of shock and pleasant surprise. “Me? You’re not gonna ask Changmin?”

“He’s…” Your eyes flitter over to where he stands with Iseul(?), Hyunjae’s following. No. You’re okay. This isn’t getting to your head at all. Everything’s cool and peachy. “He’s too preoccupied.”

Hyunjae chooses not to say anything, instead nudging you over to the opposite end of the table. Changmin’s eyes widen when he sees the two of you, even having the audacity to look scandalized. God, maybe that was his biggest fault. He was so entitled.

So, it was just fine for him to bail on you in favor of some girl he didn’t even know, but the second you talk to one of his frat brothers, it’s off the table? What a fucking hypocrite. The whole ordeal was actually beginning to get on your nerves now. All you wanted to do was win this stupid beer pong game to show him that he’ll never find a partner as good as you.

Woah. Holy shit, Y/N. You need to dial it back a bit with the possessiveness. That was a lot, especially for you.

Juyeon narrows his eyes at you and then glances over to Changmin, the cogs turning in his head slowly. You’re not sure if that’s because he’s so used to seeing you both on the same side of the beer pong table, or because his vision was so shitty. Either way, it has you cowering behind Hyunjae a little as he dips the ping pong ball into the cup of water in the center.

“Okay, you know the rules. Let’s have a healthy, friendly game,” Younghoon says, tapping the table with a smile. “No playing dirty. I’m looking at you, Hyunjae.”

The brunette raises his hands in surrender, doing a quick bout of rock, paper, scissors with Changmin to determine which team went first. He wins with a quirk of his lips, sauntering back over to you. After rolling his neck around and popping his fingers, he tosses the ball right into Changmin and Iseul’s center cup.

You hate to admit it, but Hyunjae’s actually pretty good at this. You’ve never really paid attention to anyone else’s beer pong skills considering you’ve only ever played with Changmin as your partner. Who knows, maybe you’ll switch over permanently after this. At least, you might if he keeps up whatever it is that he’s doing.

Your best friend’s jaw tightens as he grabs the red solo cup, chugging what’s inside. He huffs and takes his turn, nearly missing with the way the ball circles around the rim. He sighs in relief at the same time you grimace. You still hadn’t had anything to drink all night and starting with fucking beer was probably the worst idea.

The game probably would’ve been a bit more competitive had Iseul been decent at beer pong, but she sucked. So Hyunjae and yourself always kept your lead by one cup or more. Karma is a dish best served cold, or however the saying goes. And karma certainly presented itself in the form of Ji Changmin’s first ever TBZ beer pong tournament loss.

Hyunjae high fives you with a cheesy grin, lacing your fingers together and shaking them around. He presses a kiss to your temple and guides you away from the table as Juyeon and Younghoon clear it for the second round. It wasn’t odd for any of the TBZ boys to show you affection since you were like a sister to most of them, but this felt… kind of weird. You can’t pinpoint exactly why, but it made you feel off.

“You’re my secret weapon,” he laughs, hands burying into the pockets of his khaki shorts. “I’m gonna steal you as my partner permanently.”

As much as you joked around in your head, the truth of the matter was that you could never actually replace Changmin. In spite of him acting like a complete dumbass tonight, he was still your best friend. Not even the biggest of fights would change that fact.

Before you can dismiss him, Changmin is stalking over to you with a slight scowl. His nostrils flare a bit as he asks, “Can we talk?”

You barely nod and then he’s fisting the material of your top at the small of your back, urging you away from the living room. Your feet keep tripping over themselves while you attempt to match his pace but he’s too determined to reach his destination in mind to even notice. No one even bats an eye as you get ushered to your demise.

You’re coaxed into a nearby bathroom without a word, your best friend standing in front of you with his arms crossed over his chest. Because you hadn’t seen him a majority of the night, you hadn’t gotten the chance to get a good look at him. He was wearing a long sleeve striped polo and some baggy jeans, which probably would look basic on anyone else. But this is Ji Changmin. Girls flocked after him for a reason.

“Why would you play with Hyunjae? You know the type of guy he is. Now he thinks he has a shot with you or something.” As soon as he opens his mouth, you remember the type of guy he is.

“What does it matter to you? You were too busy giggling with your flavor of the week. Of course I wasn’t gonna wait around for you.” You bite back, mirroring his stance.

“Flavor of the—?” His eyebrows scrunch together in confusion and then everything settles in. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” you laugh humorlessly. “Don’t act all hypocritical with me, Changmin. I can’t believe I even came to this fucking party for you when you didn’t even bother giving me the same energy. Best friend, my ass.”

A scoff brushes past your lips and you turn to exit the bathroom, but he grabs your wrist. His grip isn’t too harsh, but it’s tight enough to stop you from going anywhere. “Wait. Don’t leave.”

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t.” Your eyes flick back and forth between his and the fingers wrapped around your forearm. And you know, you really should’ve predicted what would happen after that. The nature of your words were provocative in their own right, not to mention the tension brewing in the midst of your argument.

From one second to the next, Changmin’s mouth is on your own, your back pressed to the bathroom door. His hands are everywhere and nowhere all at once; digging into your sides, running through your hair, caressing your face. You feel insane. Your head feels empty, no coherent thoughts running through it as his lips move against yours.

They migrate along your jaw and down your neck, nipping and sucking wherever they feel fit. Everything is moving way too fast for you to comprehend what’s happening. His lips feel so good on your skin, you’re having trouble finding the strength in you to stop him. But you know you have to. This was your best friend, for god’s sake. And besides, you didn’t want to deal with the disappointment you’ve faced time and time again when it came to men. You couldn’t handle feeling that way toward him.

Your palm presses against his chest and you try your hardest to ignore the sensation of his heart thumping beneath it. Your eyes squeeze shut as you push him off of you gently. Not expecting the sudden disruption, he stumbles backwards slightly. He’s a little dazed, like he, too, has not a single thought in that brain of his.

“I can’t— we can’t—“ You’re breathless, heaving up and down as if you’d just ran a damn marathon. “I have to go.”

You don’t give Changmin any freedom to react, escaping the bathroom exasperated. There’s too much going through your mind to search for Soyeon, leaving the party as quickly as you can. The moment your foot steps out of the front door, it’s like you’re given some clarity. The fresh air feels cool on your warm skin while you take the walk back to your apartment, not in the mood to sit in a stuffy car with anyone else. You needed to think clearly and vulnerably, and someone being there would just hinder that.

But first, you had to figure out where to go from here.

It’s been a couple days since the last TBZ party and you were still avoiding Ji Changmin like he was the plague.

You were definitely wishful thinking when you decided to just ignore things until you had class together. And even then, you were planning on pretending like nothing even happened. Fucking up your friendship with him was something you couldn’t stand emotionally. Or physically. It would be akin to the pain of having your heart ripped straight from your chest.

Meeting Changmin when you did was almost like a blessing in disguise. His attitude about life was exactly what you needed coming into university. You were shy and scared of your new surroundings. You had no friends, you were far from your family, and your imposter syndrome was through the roof. But then he swooped in and made everything better somehow. As much as it was a snooze fest, you’ll eternally be a little bit grateful for sharing that First Year Seminar class with him.

Deep down, a piece of you has always belonged to Changmin. From that first day of freshman year to now, you’ve always held him to a different standard than everyone else. You liked to believe it was because he was your best friend, the one person who sought you out even when it felt like no one ever would. And until very recently, you kept trying to convince yourself that was the case.

If you slept together that might be worse. What if he ended up like every other guy you’ve landed in bed with? What if he couldn’t satisfy you? It would make it even more strained. You didn’t want to end up like every other girl who’s vied for his heart and failed miserably. He wasn’t a relationship person.

Falling for him alone would complicate everything. If he didn’t feel the same, it would be weird between you and your friendship would never go back to normal. Yet as you lay here, body bundled in your comforter and drowning in one of the many sweatshirts he’s left over at your apartment, scrolling through his feed, you realize that there’s no return from this point. Now that you’ve contemplated the idea, you’re too far in.

You know, the universe had funny ways of rewarding you. (Or rather, punishing you.)

There’s a knock at your front door. You’re not entirely sure who it could be since you weren’t expecting anyone, but one glance through the peephole and it’s all over for you. You consider stepping away, running and cowering in your bedroom until he disappears so you can go back to dissimulating that your entire life wasn’t crumbling to your feet.

“Y/N, I know you’re in there. Open up, please, we need to talk.”

You curse under your breath but unlock the door anyway, maneuvering so he can come inside with ease. Changmin stares at you with an unreadable expression for a minute, vision raking over your figure. Maybe you’re imagining it, but it’s something similar to how men have looked at you before, like they were undressing you with their eyes. That’s when you remember that you were wearing his sweatshirt.

Without pants underneath…

The wind knocks out of him in an instant, something primal coming over him when his gaze lands on you in his clothing. He knows he shouldn’t think about you the way he does. He shouldn’t think of how pretty you are when your pen is caught in your teeth, attempting to make sense of whatever your professor was talking about. He shouldn’t think of the way your cheeks flush when you’ve had too much alcohol at one of the TBZ parties. He shouldn’t think of kissing you, or pressing up against you like a dog in heat. He shouldn’t be thinking of the kiss you shared Friday night.

You’re his best friend, the one person in the world who has ever understood him. The one who’s always glued to his side even when he may be in the wrong. Why would he ever want something different? How could he ask for more when he should be thankful for what he was already given?

“Why are you pushing me away? Why are you ignoring me?” Is what he finally asks after the silence has become unbearable.

“Changmin,” you swallow thickly, hesitative with what you say next. “Friends don’t kiss— we don’t kiss.”

He takes a step forward, and then another, and then another until he’s only arms’ length from you. “But, we could.”

You release a shuddery breath, reaching out to stop him from coming any closer. “P-Please. We can’t do this— I can’t do this.”

“Why not?” He pushes. He knows he’s tiptoeing the edge of something else. There’s a fine line between what you have now, and what he’s wanted for so long. It’s always been a matter of if you wanted that too. “Is it because you just don’t want to?”

You’re not even sure how to respond to him. Of course you want this. It isn’t that you don’t want him. You’re more scared than anything. You’re scared of becoming just another victim of Ji Changmin’s charms, of giving into him and it leading to another let down. Your resistance is evident on your face, and you’re not all that taken aback when he sighs.

“I’ve wanted you since that first day of First Year Seminar, Y/N. No one has ever compared to you and no one ever will,” he confesses, a hand coming up to cup your cheek. “I sleep with random girls to get you off my mind, to forget that I’m pretty fucking in love with my best friend.”

Then it all clicks.

It’s like you’ve come to the biggest realization of your life, an epiphany striking you suddenly with the weight of a freight train. It all trickles into place, the reason why you’ve never enjoyed yourself during sex. The reason why you’ve never finished at the hands of any man you’ve been with intimately.

None of them were Ji Changmin. None of them were the best friend that your heart has belonged to since your freshman year.

You press your lips to his without any warning, nearly colliding into him with the force of your impatience. He reciprocates immediately, fingers tangling in your hair and holding you closer than physically possible. You tilt your head to deepen the kiss, tongue dragging along his lower lip. Years of repressed longing and pining find themselves surfacing in this one kiss.

Changmin’s hands travel to your waist, burrowing into the fabric of his sweatshirt as he yanks you toward the couch. He falls to a sitting position when the backs of his knees hit the edge, your knees resting on either side of his lap. You don’t break apart once, not even to gasp for air as he grinds you down onto him. Through the material of his cargos you can feel him. He’s just as throbbing as you are, your core pulsing with a need unlike any other.

His fingers reach for the hem of the sweatshirt and that’s when you pause him, your nerves getting the best of you. He frowns. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s just,” admitting this a second time isn’t easier. “I’ve never— nobody’s ever made me… you know…”

The corners of his lips curl up, thumbs rubbing the backs of your thighs. “You’ve never came before, baby?”

Your breathing stutters in your chest, the smugness of his voice sending shockwaves through your body. You should’ve fully expected him to be a master at pillowtalk, what with the whole Sex-God persona and all that jazz, but it still catches you off guard. You shake your head shyly, arms hooked around his neck. His mouth attaches to the spot behind your ear, sucking the skin tenderly.

“I’ll make sure you’re ruined for anyone else,” his voice is no louder than a whisper, but sounds deafening to the cotton stuffing the place where your brain should be. “I’ll make you feel so good, you won’t think twice about who you belong to.”

A small whine emits from your throat, hips gyrating themselves onto his crotch. He bucks up into you instinctively, keeping you still on his lap. The sheer possessiveness of his tone is driving you up the wall. That seemed to be something you had in common with each other. You’re lightheaded, too many layers of clothing blocking the space between you. Changmin connects your lips again, sliding his hands beneath the sweatshirt so his fingers can hook into the waistband of your panties.

He helps you out of them and your top, baring your entire body to him. The way his cock twitches makes him feel like a goddamn teenager. You paw at the zipper of his pants as he pulls off his t-shirt, tugging the cargos down his legs so you can kneel between them. If he thought he wasn’t going to last before, he’s certain of it now. He wraps your hair around his fist in a makeshift ponytail, watching you with hooded eyes as you kiss his tip.

“You look so gorgeous like this,” his voice is wavering, his composure drifting off.

That encourages you to take him into the wet heat of your mouth, tongue twirling around the tip. You run it along his slit, tasting the precum that had formed there. His head falls back onto the sofa cushions, jerking his hand back a bit and tugging your hair just enough for it to sting. You moan around his dick, the pain providing more pleasure than its intended purpose.

He bucks up into your mouth yet again, his length gliding down your throat. Not prepared for the intrusion, you gag, pulling off of his cock with a string of saliva bridging your lips to the tip. Tears prick at your eyes for a second, and then you’re going back in.

This time you manage to relax your throat, fitting more than you could prior. Changmin’s eyes are half lidded, not once daring to look anywhere that wasn’t you. The sight of you so eager to please, so desperate to reward him in spite of you being the one who’s never orgasmed before, was clouding his thinking.

The image of you on your knees, sucking him off like your life depended on it, would be burned into his brain for the rest of his life. (Not that he minded. You lived there practically rent free, anyways.)

Your attention stays on the tip of his cock, tongue repeatedly alternating with dragging under the head and the slit on top. He could die happily, actually, the fear that he may never have you in this way finally dissipating into thin air. Want could only take a man so far.

He doesn’t stay sentimental for very long, remembering that you were currently between his legs and the inner monologue could wait for later. Though, he makes the grave mistake of making direct eye contact with you and it’s game over after that point.

Changmin finishes with a groan, his cum painting your chest with milky white ropes. He cups both sides of your face, bringing you up to kiss you messily. He doesn’t care that he can taste himself in your mouth, nipping your bottom lip to pry it open. The two of you swap spots, with him now on the floor and you on the couch. He pushes up your knees, spreading them to gain access to your cunt, glistening with your slick.

He presses a soft kiss to your clit, glancing up at you through his lashes to gauge your reaction. He not only had a reputation to defend, but he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. He was going to be the first man to make you cum. But it wasn’t sufficient to just fuck you, he needed to do more than that. He needed to flood your senses and show you exactly what you’ve been missing out on.

His tongue circles around the sensitive bundle of nerves, his ring and middle fingers going counter-clockwise on your entrance. He can hear the laboring of your breathing, the sharp exhale through your nostrils when he experimentally slides one of them inside of you. He starts to pump it slowly, building up the pace until he adds the other finger, curling them.

You whine when Changmin’s lips envelope your clit, suckling like a man starved. His fingers south don’t halt their assault, the palm of his other hand flattening on your lower stomach. You reach down to card through his hair, clutching the strands for support. He groans against your pussy, the vibrations contributing to the knot growing tighter in your abdomen.

He switches his tongue and fingers a moment later, lapping at your hole and swiping at your clit in a close ovular pattern with his thumb. You’re dizzy, lids fluttering shut and back arching off the cushions in a weak attempt to minimize the space between you. Changmin pins down your hips with his forearm, continuing making out with your cunt.

He flips the stimulation once more, mouth on your clit and fingers buried deep inside of you in an instant. He keeps his eyes on you, focused on every scrunch of your face and slacking of your jaw. The sudden difference in sensations has a loud moan ripping from your vocal cords, that knot coming undone almost too quickly for it being your first time in this position. You feel his lips turn up in a smile, like he’s proud of himself for doing the impossible.

Changmin pulls back slightly, his fingers still working you down from your peak. When he thinks you’ve calmed, he’s up and kissing you, petting your hair gently. “You did so well for me, baby.”

“I’ve made myself cum so many times before, but never like that— holy shit, Changmin…” You’re a little stunned and he finds it cute, despite you both being in such a compromising situation.

“I need you to give me one more, is that okay?” He lays you on your back, hovering over you. “I wanna see your pretty face when you cum on my cock.”

You pull him down for another kiss, pecking the side of his neck with a hum. “Want you to fill me up, too.”

The groan that leaves him is guttural, his forehead falling onto your collarbone. Dreams really do come true. He hikes up one of your legs, lining himself up with you. He guides his cock into you and watches you for any moves of discomfort. A whimper bubbles past as he slips in, bottoming out smoothly. Half of you still couldn’t believe this was happening. No fucking way was Ji Changmin on top of you right now, dick compressed in your cunt to the hilt.

He holds your knee to your chest as he begins to thrust his hips, driving his cock deep from the get go. Each motion jostles you further up the sofa, but you’re too gone to care. Your eyes have started to roll to the back of your head and you already feel that pressure rising in the pit of your stomach.

At this rate, you’re not sure you’ll last very long. You’re still extremely sensitive from your first orgasm and Changmin’s plowing into you like he might never get the chance to do it again.

“You’re so— fuck— you’re so tight, baby… Squeezing me in like you don’t wanna let me go,” he rasps, trailing open mouthed kisses along your jaw and carrying them down your jugular.

You moan something about how deep he is, about how you can feel him everywhere. It’s too much. It’s not enough. And despite him giving you everything he has to offer, you crave more. You’re yearning for more.

Something in you snaps and you’re cradling his face in your hands. “Love you so much, Changmin. Wanna be with you forever.”

His eyes widen at your off-kilter confession, but he doesn’t cease once. If anything, his speed increases as he kisses you passionately, noses bumping but so far on the spectrum from the others. This one is more emotional, more meaningful. It’s not long before he’s spilling into you, moaning against your lips. You follow closely behind, your second orgasm cresting like a tidal wave.

You stay like that for a minute, both of you soaking it all in. Your chests meet in the middle with each breath you take.

Changmin pulls out of you carefully, laying so you can rest comfortably on top of him. A smile inches across his feature, like he was on the inside of a joke you weren’t. You raise an eyebrow at him.

“What…”

“Nothing, it’s just,” he brushes some of your hair from your forehead to leave a smooch there. “I’ve been waiting for the right time to tell you how I felt for a while now. I just wanted to assure that you wouldn’t scream in my face and run the opposite direction. But you went ahead and beat me to it.”

“You meant what you said about the other girls?” You nibble at the skin of your cheek, nervous. “You slept with them to distract yourself from me? Even Iseul?”

He nods, albeit a little shamefully. “Not my proudest moment, I’ll say. I could’ve gone about it a million other ways. But yeah, I didn’t want to ruin what we had. I couldn’t stand the thought of losing you just because I couldn’t get my feelings in check.”

“You’re stupid,” you laugh, cuddling further into him. “It’s a good thing I’m kind of into that.”

“Kind of?” He quirks a brow at you. “I don’t know, you were saying something about loving me so much and wanting to be with me forever earlier…”

You smack his chest playfully. “Shut up. That was a moment of weakness or whatever.”

“It’s okay,” he smiles at you fondly, as if you were the reason that the sun shone so brightly. “I love you, too. And I wouldn’t mind being with you forever.”

681 notes · View notes

sungbeam · 6 months

Text

𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐑𝐒 — part one (i – vii)

nonidol!ji changmin x f!reader

your sister's dead, but apparently that's not the most shocking news. maybe she wasn't killed on accident, maybe ji changmin isn't really human, and maybe the monsters were never under the bed but all around you...

▷ genre, warnings. strangers 2 reluctant allies/friends 2 lovers, slow burn, demon/supernatural creatures au, angst, action, murder mystery-ish au, forced proximity trope, suspense, gore, depictions of violence and blood, themes of death and grief, use/description of weaponry, swearing, a slightly unreliable narrator bc she has no idea what's happening, reader's sister is dead, mentions of stalking, humor bc coping mechanisms, reader has hair long enough to braid sorry, blood drinking, the barest of proofreading and editing done...

▷ part word count. 22.3k words / 47.4k - read part two here

▷ associated songs. teeth (5sos), wet nightmare (bibi)

a/n: i tried to make it scary I SWEAR but changmin brings the clown out of me 🤥 anyways i ripped a chunk of my heart out and im serving it to you bloodied on a gold platter, i hope u love her :') read the warnings ofc and lmk your thoughts <3 also i completely gave up on wrestling w blr so im dropping it in two parts, but both of them at once 🤣 pray for me.

#1—NEXT OF KIN.

THEY TOLD YOU YOUR SISTER'S DEATH WAS AN ACCIDENT, they being the authorities who had shown up at the front door of your apartment with their caps in hand, solemn faces pressed into lines that you could not read between. The world had fallen out from beneath your feet like someone had just yanked the carpet out, and you hadn't yet stopped falling.

The funeral was set on the rolling green hills of Elysium Memorial Park, the cemetery where your parents were buried, where your grandparents were buried, and now, where your sister joined them six feet under. Generations ago, your grandparents had purchased plots for themselves and their future family members while the land was cheap. When it came for your time to leave this mortal coil behind, you too would join them in the dirt of Elysium. It almost seemed right that the sky had opened up to reveal a blindingly hot sun, not a cloud to be seen in the sky. Perhaps the sky would not weep for your sister, but celebrate her life instead.

But while the heavens above would shed nary a tear, you could make up for that loss yourself. Having little to no living relatives left, you had been expected to take responsibility for all the arrangements, all while grieving, all while studying, all while trying to not fall apart some more. You were holding it together by the zipper of your dress pants and the caffeine from your coffee. You couldn't stop crying for the entire service, the forced silence of your cries balanced by the violent tremors in your shoulders.

Your sister Sena's patch in the land was now marked by a heaping pile of dirt. She had a lot of friends—most of whom gathered behind you and had thrown their flowers upon the dirt hill. You had a few distant relatives as well who you'd managed to remember (somehow) amongst all the madness. A couple of them were able to fly out for the event, but most had to decline.

When you heard your name being called, you drew your blazer sleeve over your eyes in a futile attempt to dry them.

Walking towards you now was a couple, middle-aged, dressed in black from head to toe, not far from how you looked right now. You knew them from about a week ago when they had sought you out after the news of your sister's death spread.

You hadn't the heart to sue them when they confessed who they were. It's our fault, they told you in the quiet of the hallway outside your apartment, we're so sorry. We understand if you'd like to press charges.

Sena was a victim of an automobile accident. You didn't know the entire story—was too tired for the whole story—just shocked she was even in the country. She was supposed to be across the world for a study abroad program, but why was she discovered on the side of the road, a few towns over, inebriated and dead? She became nothing more than roadkill and a statistic in death, and maybe that was why you were so bitter.

"Yn, it was a beautiful ceremony," said the woman—Julia, she had introduced herself as that week ago. Her nose was reddened from the friction of tissue paper, her eyes damp and glittering in the sunlight. "I'm sorry you—that you have to deal with all the pomp and circumstance."

"We know you deserve your time alone," joined her husband, Carter. He tucked his hands into his pockets, mustering up a smile for your sake, but you could still see the guilt flooding his eyes with water. "We just wanted to say thank you for letting us come and pay our respects."

And for not pressing charges. But you dashed that thought away. That was the bitterness talking, but these were good people. They had come forward and been honest, and it wasn't their fault Sena was drunk. (Why in the world was she drunk and here and why didn't she tell you the truth—?)

"Thank you for coming," you replied, "I wasn't sure if you would take me up on the offer, to be honest."

You wrapped up conversation with the couple and watched them depart across the grassy hills toward their car. Your eyes surveyed the last bits of the lingering crowd for familiar faces—anyone at all. But all you found were strangers.

These were all Sena's friends, after all. She had always been the more adventurous of the two of you.

You sighed and resigned yourself to start looking for the funeral coordinator to discuss payment and the like. Though the event was over the worst was just beginning. There was so much to do, and so little energy left to perform them.

But as you began trudging through the plush grass toward the far end of the plot, you noticed a man standing beneath the shade of a nearby oak tree. He wore typical funeral attire—the black dress shirt, pants, shoes, and even a pair of rectangular shades to cover his eyes. Like many of the others, you didn't recognize him—at first.

And then he shifted, lenses of his glasses reflecting sunlight and you could just barely put together the puzzle of his face and his identity. Ji Changmin.

What was he doing here?

They were friends, too, Yn, you reminded yourself. Yet, you weren't sure why you were so surprised he was here. Maybe it was because you never remembered extending the invitation to him (but someone could have spread the news by word of mouth). Maybe it was because several months had passed since you last saw him. Maybe it was because you always thought there was something… strange about him (but that could have been your bias; there was always this thing about him that irked you). Either way, you never had anything to say to him before, and that had yet to change even in light of your sister's death.

The two of you stared each other down, and for a moment, you believed he was going to walk over to you.

But instead, he pushed off the tree trunk and made his way toward the trickle of funeral goers up the hill, leaving you to wonder after him.

The next time you saw Ji Changmin was a week after the will reading.

Because you were Sena's next of kin, you were contacted by your shared attorney about Sena's will. Apparently, she had a will. After all these years, you couldn't even fathom the idea of needing one so early, but for some reason, she had. (Maybe that worried you a little more.)

The strangest thing was that your attorney had delivered to you a flat lockbox made of steel and secured with an old fashioned lock and key. Along with the stash of money in her savings account (where the Hell had all of that come from anyway?), Sena also gave you that. Whatever it was.

You had yet to open it when you bumped into Changmin on your way out of your college's academic counseling center. With recent events, your departmental advisor called you in to discuss your academic plans for the foreseeable future.

You can take as long as you like, Yn, she'd said to you. You're already ahead of schedule to graduate anyways. But that wasn't the point was it?—

"Oh." You stopped short as you rounded the corner and nearly crashed into something. "Sorry," you said before you even recognized him.

A pair of dark, feline eyes looked you up and down. "Yn, right?" Changmin drawled. A pair of white wired earbuds hung from his ears and his shoulders were fitted with a dark colored bomber jacket that was familiar to you. You'd seen it draped over the back of one of your kitchen chairs once when Sena had him over for a project.

Your eyes shuttered. "Yeah. Changmin?"

His nod was barely there. He cocked his head to the side in a way that felt like he was trying to gaze into your soul. "I'm—I'm sorry for your loss," he said, grappling for the right words. "Sena was a good friend."

"I didn't realize the two of you were so close," you told him. This was probably the most he'd ever said to your face, and you to him.

Changmin gave a small shrug. "We worked closely together, so it was kind of inevitable. How are you doing?"

You didn't think the conversation would last this long. "Oh, uhm, I'm fine." You inwardly knocked yourself over the head. He's probably just trying to be nice, Yn. "I mean—" you amended, "—I'm doing as well as you can imagine, I guess. Just lots of legal stuff and…" Her room. Cleaning out her room. Opening the lockbox. Reading her last will and testament for the fiftieth time.

When you didn't finish your sentence right away, he nodded again, shuffling on the balls of his feet. Was he feeling as awkward as you were? "I get that. Hey, if you—y'know, like, need anything—"

"You don't have to do that."

"What about coffee? Just… to talk."

Coffee? You considered him for a second. Before, you nor he had ever given any indication to the other that you acknowledged the other's presence. In fact, you confessed to Sena once that he intimidated you, even if he was just sitting there in your shared living room while pouring over JSTOR academic essays.

He was patient, you realized. Then you relented. "Okay. When's good for you?"

You thought you saw a glimmer of relief in his eyes, but that could have just been the afternoon sunlight. "Now?"

Your eyes widened a smidge, and you coughed. "Uhm now? I—I have class…?" You didn't, but the curve ball that was an impromptu coffee session with Ji Changmin wasn't something you needed right now.

His eyebrow lifted as if he didn't believe you. "Okay," he dragged out. "Tomorrow morning?" He offered as a counter.

Your brain did cartwheels in an attempt to figure out if you would have the willpower to do that. "Okay," you said. Better to get this out of the way, right?

"Do you know that one place on Magnolia?"

"The one across from the Eight Ball?" You perked up in recognition. You and Sena used to go all the time. The two of you liked to say that Magnolia was her street because it housed all her favorite places; just the thought of taking a stroll down it made your eyes water. "Yeah, Sena and I used to go all the time."

Changmin paused, his mouth opening, then closing.

You guessed what he was thinking. "It's fine if we go. I'm not gonna like, burst into tears or anything," you chuckled awkwardly, clearing your throat when excess tear fluid made you congested.

His lips pursed, impressing a dimple into his cheek. "Okay, only if you're sure."

"Yeah, I'm sure." It seemed that everything you said to people was something like a lie nowadays.

It was late when you finally faced the lockbox.

The box was an unassuming hunk of metal, flat and slim and no bigger than a standard piece of paper. You warmed the key in your palm until it was hot to the touch and made your skin redden. The sky outside your apartment window had darkened to a blot of ink, the white shutters drawn shut to create a white paneled shield. You just finished up a very lazy dinner, washed up, and decided to confront the last thing on Sena's will.

The lockbox in the bank under my name goes to my sister, Yn Ln. She is the only one allowed access to it until she opens it; what she decides to do with the contents is her choice.

There must have been something important inside it, you reasoned, otherwise it wouldn't have been a part of the will and it wouldn't be under lock and a single key.

"What is this, Sena?" You asked aloud, venturing to twist the lock open with the key. The locking mechanism gave way, and you set the lock and key aside. The shorter end could slide open like a hidden door, and you peered into the dark depths, almost afraid of what you might find between its jaws.

You could make out the silhouettes of shapes at the bottom, the soft-cornered texture of a wad of bills. You reached in.

One of the things she had left for you in her will was all of the money in her savings account. It had shocked you to see the number—you always thought her only job was at the library, but clearly, she was not just on a librarian's salary.

Pulling out a stack of cash from the box was yet another thing that helped solidify in your mind that something was off. The confusion settled first, and then the betrayal. Had she not trusted you with this knowledge while she was alive? You were the one going into accounting and finance, and yet, she hid all of this money from you? Was she afraid of something? Afraid of judgment, of the law?

You tossed the twenties onto the table. The note slipped between the rubber band and the first piece read something along the lines of 'in case of emergency.'

You made a plunge into the box again. This time, you pulled out the last two things at the bottom, a standard white index card and a small, fabric pouch. The card displayed Sena's familiar scrawl:

You're probably wondering what any of this is, but if you're reading this, it means that something's gone wrong—like really wrong. The necklace in the pouch is super important. DON'T TAKE IT OFF. Don't let anyone touch it before you do. Don't trust anyone. This is really important to me, Yn. Please be safe; I love you.

x, sena.

Please be safe? Safe from who or what?

You held the note in your hand for a moment and couldn't believe this would be the last thing you received from her. It would be a tangible legacy, in a way, and you weren't sure how to feel about that. You moved the note to the table and turned your attention to the pouch.

You carefully tugged it open. She said it was a necklace, right?

"Oh," you voiced aloud while fishing out a thin, silver chain.

There was a pendant attached to the end with some heft to it. It was a deep, bloody red in the loose shape of a teardrop. There wasn't a sharp peak, but a slightly flat end on one side and a rounded end on the other. You would guess it was some kind of precious stone, but when you stared at it long enough, it looked like the color pulsed… like a heartbeat.

Your breath hitched.

Eyes narrowed, you held it up to the light by the chain. The vibrant red remained stagnant—perhaps you were just tired.

Don't let anyone touch it before you do. Don't take it off. Don't trust anyone.

Strange request about a necklace. For a moment, you wondered if your sister had indulged in some unsavory acts to achieve the numbers in her bank account and the previous stone in your hands. If you put this on, would you be counted as an accomplice to robbery?

"God, you just need to go to sleep, Yn," you muttered, swiftly clicking the chain into place around your neck. There was no way your sister would have anything to do with—

You froze.

From the other side of your shutters, you swore you heard the sound of shuffling. It wasn't unheard-of that the leaves and tree branches knocked against your second-floor window once in a while, but there hadn't been much wind as of late.

A chill spider-crawled up your spine as you strained your ears to hear more.

When you came up with nothing, you shoved the pendant under your shirt and cleaned up the lockbox. You had an early day tomorrow, after all; sleep was dire to face Changmin.

But as you crept into bed, you couldn't help but feel as if the stone on your sternum did have a heartbeat, and that something in the dark was watching you.

#2—GHOSTS ONLY HAUNT.

YOU STEPPED FOOT ON MAGNOLIA STREET looking for signs of your sister.

The morning air was a little cooler as spring filtered into town, and it also meant that this street in particular would begin to swirl with baby pink petals from the trees of the street's namesake flowers. There weren't many people around on a Thursday morning, but the sun peered between the buildings to say hello, at least.

You were in good company.

"Hey."

"Holy shit—" you whipped around to find Changmin almost right behind you. Your heart stuttered against your ribcage, your hand flying to your sternum where the necklace was. You were still getting used to its presence.

He gave nothing away with his facial expression. Damn him.

"I didn't realize you'd be early," you breathed as you tried to get a grip on yourself. Did this guy just materialize out of thin air everywhere?

Tongue in cheek, he said, "Well, I couldn't really sleep, so I figured the morning air might freshen me up a bit. Shall we?" He gestured with his elbow and chin to the establishment to your right.

There sat the quaint, little coffee shop you'd both agreed on yesterday. This one was one of Sena's favorites. She always claimed that their blueberry scones were the best in the world.

When you didn't say anything for a little, he cleared his throat. "We don't have to, if you can't or don't want to."

You hadn't even realized you were being quiet. Thoughts had been muddled as of late. You cleared your throat and stumbled for the door. "No, we can go in."

Two cups of coffee arrived at your table seven minutes later in compostable cups and a pile of artificial sweetener packets and creamer. You straightened in your seat across from Changmin and began ripping open sweetener packets and wondering if you should have gotten something of substance to eat. (You had stared at the blueberry scones for a long minute before deciding that today was not the day you wanted to cry in front of someone, especially this someone in particular.)

Changmin moved his cup toward his side of the table but made no move to add sugar or cream, or to even drink it.

This place was so familiar to you that you knew exactly how many packets of cream and sweetener to mix in, and you gently blew a breath over the steam floating off the surface. When the liquid hit your tongue and your throat, its warmth enveloped your nerves in a warm embrace, assuring you everything was going to be okay. The emotion hit you like a freight train.

You pressed your thumb against the rear gland in your right eye and willed it away. "So uhm," you said, fanning your eyes gently as you attempted to pull yourself together in front of him, "what… what did you wanna talk about? If there was anything?"

He folded his arms over his chest while leaning back in his chair, and you thought you saw his gaze soften. "Why don't you take another sip?" His eyes went to the coffee. "It'll help."

You couldn't deny that suggestion, and you reached for your cup to take another small gulp. The breath you let out rattled.

This was a bad idea.

"Are you gonna be okay if I talk about Sena?"

You nursed the coffee cup in your hands and nodded slowly.

He eyed you for a moment, then relented. "Did she happen to leave anything that was marked for me? Before the—the accident, she said there was something she needed to tell me."

Something she needed to tell him? You racked your brain, eyes drilling into the wood grain of the coffee table between you two. The will hadn't mentioned anyone else but you. And all of the letters or notes from Sena that were given to you were all for you; the attorney would have handled the rest and mailed them off to anyone else she'd written something for.

You narrowed your eyes at him. "No, I can't think of anything. You say you were expecting something?"

The resolve in his eyes steeled over, and that little bit of softness you'd seen before disappeared as if it had never been there in the first place. You couldn't read him anymore. "Yes, I have her texts."

He fished out his phone from his pocket and you pursed your lips as he maneuvered to a screen of his and your sister's last messages to each other:

sena: i think i'm going back home soon, so i'll c u then changmin: okay that's fine changmin: wait ur still over there?? i thought u left already? sena: had to talk to someone abt the thing, but it was a dead end sena: just remind me that i have something to tell u changmin: what? sena: it'll be better if i said this in person

That was all Changmin let you see.

You leaned away from his phone, head reeling more from the fact that he knew she had been out of town and knew where she was and why she was there. Never mind the fact that apparently, Sena was holding onto important information for Changmin. You couldn't care less about that.

You supposed the texts were for him to prove to you he was telling you the truth. It wasn't like you weren't telling the truth either.

"Why was Sena out of town?" You asked him. "Did she ever go on any of those study abroad trips?"

Changmin paused, then something flickered in his eyes. "I think I showed you too much."

"I think you showed me too little."

"Yn, did she tell you anything about what she needed to tell me?"

You were going to push against him for your own agenda again, but the slight pressure in his tone made you think twice. There was something urgent in his words, his expression, his body language. You couldn't tell what it was, but something about this had to have been important.

Absentmindedly, your hand rubbed the area where the pendant sat on your chest beneath the collar of your shirt, and his eyes followed for a moment before flickering back up to your eyes. "No," you told him quietly. "She didn't tell me anything."

He must have believed you, because defeat shuddered across his face, and he said goodbye to leave. He didn't even take his coffee with him. Asshole.

You told yourself it would be months before you could bring yourself to go through Sena's things, but after this morning's run-in with Changmin (because it wasn't even a session; you could hardly call it anything but a run-in because it lasted maybe ten minutes), you were determined to unlock her door and do some digging. Clearly, she was hiding more than her money and jewelry(?) from you.

Changmin… he completely ignored your questions confronting him about Sena's whereabouts and her purpose for traveling. You were getting more and more suspicious as to what your sister had been up to lately. Changmin had to be in on it, too, then. He had to be.

Sena's door took up your entire vision as you stood before it with the key in your hand.

You weren't entirely sure what you were expecting when you opened it, but it was as if she had never left. Everything was where she left it—plum-purple covers tucked beneath the mattress, vintage national park postcards hanging from fairy lights by wooden clothespins, jackets layered over the back of her desk chair. There was an empty mug on her desk with the remnants of a red lip tint on the edge, and you knew you weren't going to remember to take it out to the sink later.

The small shelf-nightstand hybrid next to her bed was filled to the brim with books and notebooks and magazines. You settled gingerly upon the edge of her bed, palms pressing against the comforter.

The room still smelled like your sister.

You took the small bottle of perfume on the nightstand and spritzed a little onto your wrist. You pressed it to your nose, letting the scent make your senses woozy. It wouldn't bring her back; it didn't smell exactly the same when it was on your skin.

You set the bottle back onto the nightstand, then lowered yourself to your knees to pull all of the books off the top shelf. You stuck your head into the empty cupboard—you weren't really sure what you were looking for.

All of the titles here were the normal things you remembered seeing her read: assorted mythologies, books on the occult and supernatural, her textbooks for anthropology and archeology. There were about a dozen and a half National Geographic magazines that you flipped through within the next two hours, as well, all of which turned up nothing of curiosity.

None of the bound books were notebooks of any kind.

You crawled over to her desk—rifled through those. Nothing. They were all school related and completely, utterly ordinary.

Disappointment weighed you down into her desk chair as you hit another dead end.

Was there nothing she could give you?

No, she's dead, you thought to yourself. You'd never known Sena to be a secretive person, especially with you—in fact, you were the quieter of the pair, and she always managed to coax the right things out of you.

Sometimes you had felt like the older sister because you handled so many of the logistics and practical things, but when the world became too scary, you could always count on running to her to feel safe again…

Safe.

Sena, were you ever safe? You were beginning to think not so much.

"Do I need to file for a restraining order?"

It was getting ridiculous how many times you ran into Changmin in the past two weeks. It was outside the advising office, on your way to the store, in the hallway outside your finance lecture. And now, he loitered in the lobby of your apartment complex with a wired earbud in one ear and the other dangling freely.

He seemed to be unfazed by your remark as he peered over at you from beneath the brim of his cap. "What if I just live here?"

"But you don't," you huffed, coming to stop right in front of him. You had a feeling you would have definitely known if he moved into this building. "What do you want from me, Changmin? I'm not going to magically lead you to my sister's secret stash of whatever. I just want to get to class."

"Then go to class," he said simply. He gestured with the phone in his hand toward the door. "I'm not here for you."

You narrowed your eyes at him. Perhaps you were being a little silly, and this was just some weird trick your brain was playing on you to make you notice him more. "Answer me something."

"Only if you answer something for me."

"This isn't a negotiation."

"Worth a shot," he said with a sigh. "What shall I answer for you?"

"You and my sister weren't dating, were you?"

He must have choked on his own spit because he coughed, furiously thumping his chest. You would have laughed if this was any other circumstance, and if you and Changmin were friends (but you weren't). He shook his head at you. "No. Your sister wasn't interested in me like that and neither was I. We were strictly colleagues."

You cocked your head to the side. Colleagues… you let that marinate. "Okay, so did she have anyone she was seeing then? Just out of curiosity." A former lover you didn't know about would make sense, something like a Bonnie and Clyde situation maybe. Or perhaps you were chasing after ghosts to get a glimpse into the past.

"Someone I suspect, but I don't have their contact," he replied, mimicking your head tilt and narrowed eyes. "If you had her phone—"

"I don't."

"Ah, a shame then."

"Do you?"

"And why would I withhold such an important item from the next of kin?" He drawled.

Changmin suddenly jolted upright from the relaxed position he stood in. It was so abrupt, it gave your heart a start. "That's my cue."

You followed after him out the front doors. "What cue? Did you hear your microwave go off or something?"

You swore to God you saw his mouth curl up in amusement. But it might have been just your imagination. He yanked his other earbud out and lifted a hand in goodbye. "Something like that! See you around."

He disappeared around the corner before you could follow after him. Plus, you really did have a lecture to get to. (Wait, did he say that she was seeing someone—?)

You sighed, wondering if you should follow him… something in the back of your mind told you it would be safer not to.

#3—MONSTERS AMONG MEN.

YOU SWORE JI CHANGMIN HAD TO BE a psychic with the amount of times he predicted your whereabouts. Every time you saw him in your vicinity, you and he shared either a verbal sparring match or stared one another down. He seemed amused by it; you were growing increasingly concerned, even if it was all just coincidence.

(There was this one time, on a Wednesday this past week, where you were the one who appeared at the anthropology department to see one of Sena's old professors. Changmin was there, as it was his major's headquarters, and shot you a curious glance. The meeting was innocent and an accident. No, you definitely weren't stalking him. Absolutely not.)

(It was interesting to consider whether both of you thought the other would lead you to something of Sena's. You were certain he knew more than he let on, and perhaps he thought the same of you… Shit, maybe you should invest in a taser.)

Additionally, the weird sounds around your apartment had increased. Sometimes when you walked around in the evenings, the hair on the back of your neck and your arms stood at attention, as if you could feel the gaze of someone or… something watching you. However, every time you turned to look, the crazier you were convinced you'd become.

It didn't help that the necklace Sena left for you kept mimicking your heart beat when you weren't paying attention. If you willed it to repeat the steady beat in the light so you could observe it up close, it would cease.

It was as if distance from your skin or touch left it without a heart to echo.

You were half certain you were losing your mind. It had to be all this stress and emotion overwhelming you.

Saturday morning, you decided to pick yourself up and go see your sister. The funeral home had called you earlier this week to say that her headstone was complete, so this would also serve as a trip to ensure everything was engraved correctly before it was placed over her grave. You dressed yourself up in a dark top and comfortable jeans, something you might be able to sit in on the grass as you lingered in her presence, even if she was dead.

Ever since you went through her things, you hadn't ventured into her room again. You thought it might preserve the way it looked, smelled, felt… preserve something of her.

Once you'd gone to the funeral parlor and management center at Elysium Memorial Park to confirm the engraving, you took a brisk walk up the hill to where you remembered Sena's plot to be. The sun peered out between clouds this morning, giving the sky a dual-toned appearance, one half a dark gray, and the other a gossamer yellow.

You started down the hill, head ducked to watch for any graves or hills so you didn't trample over other people's bodies. A bundle of flowers from the grocery store sat cradled in the crook of your arm—a bundle of pink carnations ("I'll never forget you") and dark crimson roses (mourning). You didn't often pay attention to the meaning of flowers, but you thought if you weren't able to choke anything out today, then at least they could speak for you.

Just as you neared the grave between oaks, you lifted your head, your footsteps slowing at the person who stood over your sister's grave. "You have got to be shitting me."

"Isn't it a sin to curse over someone's grave?" Changmin asked as you stopped short of where he was. There was a single stem of sunflower (adoration) seated at his feet on the bundle of earth that was Sena's resting place. "Well, I wouldn't know. That's not my expertise."

"What are you doing here?"

He gave a loose gesture with a flourished hand. "Visiting a friend. Don't leave on my account. She's your sister."

It was as if he could read your mind. You didn't count on anyone being here when you saw her, but he had a right to visit her, too. The bitterness seeping into your bones would have to be squandered for today; the universe just needed to stop making the two of you bump into each other.

You ignored the quickening pitter-patter of your heart and the necklace, and trudged over the grass to where he was.

You gently placed your bundle of flowers next to his, then straightened to stand beside him. The two of you stared at the patch in the ground in silence.

A frown etched itself onto his face, along with a crease between his brows. He seemed almost angry—at what, you couldn't tell. Not you, you hoped.

Quietly, you lowered yourself to the grass to sit down and be closer to her.

I miss you, you voiced into your head, as if you could transmit these thoughts to the dead body in the ground. I'm so… it's too much, Sena. I can't do this. I don't know what you want from me, I don't know what Changmin wants from me. The apartment is cold. Why didn't you tell me you were home all this time?

For the moment, you let your vision blur with tears.

You covered your mouth with your palm to dam the emotion inside, especially with someone else right next to you, but dignity be so fucking damned. Your body trembled with the weight of everything and beyond—you were Atlas carrying the world upon his shoulders. Pressure mounted in your cranium from how hard and freely you sobbed, your fingers pressed to your face to support your head as your tears wet the earth beneath you.

A presence lowered itself to the ground beside you, and Changmin remained politely quiet. He breathed in deeply, but you heard the slight tremble of his breath when he exhaled.

Maybe you were crying for the both of you.

After what seemed like eons, you sniffled, pawing at your puffy and reddened eyes with the sleeves of your shirt. You hadn't brought along any tissues or anything, an oversight.

You gathered your wits about you and clambered to your feet, your knees knocking together like a baby deer. Changmin still had his eyes pinned to the ground.

"Whatever the Hell you want from me," you told him hoarsely, "I don't care. Just leave me alone."

You watched his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed. Without another word, you walked away to head back to the bus stop.

Your skin prickled when you returned home. The air was oddly… off, and a strange smell lingered in the air. It was subtle, only becoming apparent to you with deep, focused inhales. The identity of the smell eluded you and it wasn't something you were familiar with.

You kicked the front door shut behind you, and noticed that the window was ajar. Had you accidentally left that open before you left?

Strange.

You padded across the room to peer out at the street below. There sat the usual tree that occupied the space in front of your window, the one that you assumed (hoped) was the thing making all of the noises outside the past few weeks. (Because if it wasn't that, you didn't want to know what it really was.)

The thought occurred to you that you might have opened the window before you left to air out whatever smell had crept through the air vents. Yes, that made a whole lot of sense.

Settling with that explanation, you cranked the window closed slightly, only leaving a sliver so you could muffle as much of the sounds outside as possible. This part of town wasn't the noisiest, luckily, but when there were vehicles that drove by, they tended to be loud for no reason.

You sighed, settling down onto your couch with your bag. The whole rest of your day was open, and the only thing you had thought of was to go see Sena.

The feeling of eyes on you loitered on your skin like an invisible ant crawling over your body somewhere. You swiped at your neck, rubbed your arm… you couldn't identify it when you swung around to observe your own home.

This was your home, wasn't it? Why did it feel like you weren't alone in it?

You were going to go close the window—

A shadow appeared on the ledge of your window sill and you let out a scream.

The mass gnarled its teeth at the sound, pouncing at you with claws and fangs that glinted in the daylight.

You scrambled backward on the couch, toward the opposite end, your heart throwing itself up against your ribcage. "What the fuck?" You breathed, trying to figure out what in the world it was.

Bad idea. Oh, baaaad. Bad. Bad. Bad idea.

You shouldn't have stared so long; then you wouldn't have realized it had multiple rows of teeth, a face pale as a full moon, and two beady eyes narrowed into slits. Saliva dripped from its maw and down its chin as it crawled on its haunches and arms to you.

It made a guttural noise, then lunged.

You swore and fell over the arm of the couch, dragging along the lamp on the side table. You tried to move your right leg off the arm—it didn't budge. Oh god, it had its claws in your pant leg—

"Mine," it snarled, surprisingly sentient. "Master wills it so."

You kicked it in its face and managed to scramble away, clutching the lamp in front of your body as a weapon.

It ran after you, and your body leapt into instinct.

You nearly slipped as you fumbled to your feet and tipped the coffee table over the creature. "What the fuck are you—SHIT."

Wood splinters exploded as the creature smashed clear through one of the legs and went careening for you.

"HELP! SOMEBODY PLEASE," you begged, running for the kitchen and the block of knives in your sight.

Your knees hit the wood floor with a vengeance, and you had no time to mourn over bruised knees. You twisted around and just barely shoved the lamp between its jaws before it could enclose them around your neck—

Somebody pounded on your front door. "YN? YN!"

Familiar—that was all that went through your head. "HELP ME," you screeched, your hands growing slippery from the slobber. Desperation filled your veins and you gave a violent shove.

Your front door bursted open, the handle banging against the opposite wall and leaving a dent.

Changmin charged into the room with a dark look in his eyes, a swear on his tongue. "You're the little weasel who's been fucking with me."

The creature shifted his attention to Changmin. "Your Disgrace," it gave a mocking bow.

That seemed to be his ticker.

You couldn't comprehend what happened—only an exchange of blows, a blur of body mass—Changmin brawled with the creature on your floor and you dragged yourself behind the kitchen counter to hide. You reached for a knife from the knife block up above and pulled your knees to your chest, the sounds of snarling and wood breaking and bones cracking—then—complete silence.

You slapped a palm over your mouth, eyes going toward the ceiling to pray to anyone who could hear you.

This was when you died. The creature had killed Changmin and now it was coming back to finish what it started.

You held your breath with your eyes wide open. You strained your ears. The sound of a sigh met your ears, one that was oh-so familiar to you.

"Shit," came Changmin's voice. "Yn. Yn? Yn, where…?"

He rounded the counter, his hair sticking up in different directions and a large tear at the top of his shirt, but other than that, he seemed no worse for wear. He eyed the knife pointed outward at him, and he showed you his palms as if placating a rattlesnake. "Woah, hey, it's okay. It's gone now."

Your body trembled from head to toe with all of the pent up fear and adrenaline. You shook your head, your hand still clapped over your mouth to keep your screams or cries in.

Changmin lowered himself to your level slowly. "Hey, I'm not gonna hurt you. I promise, it's gone and you're okay now. Let's put the knife down."

You slowly, slowly brought your extended hand down, letting the blade point toward the ground and away from the man in front of you. "What—" you choked, "—what was—who are—"

His facial features arranged into something short of stress. "It's a long story…" He roughed a hand through his bangs. "That thing back there? Yn, that was a demon."

You blinked.

He exhaled sharply. "I'm a demon."

"Don't fuck with me."

"You think I'm fucking with you?"

Your free hand clutched at the pendant around your neck. "You—you don't look like that thing though."

He gave a nod. "Right, I don't. I'm… a different kind of demon." When you remained quiet, he prodded, "You're not going to fight back? You're not gonna tell me you're going crazy?"

"Oh, I know I'm going crazy," you nodded vigorously, wiping away the snot that dribbled down your nose inelegantly. He reached over the counter to grab the roll of paper towels and slide it over to you in an act of (rare) kindness. Your head made contact with the cabinet behind you. "Is the carcass lying on my living room floor, Changmin? Tell me it is not lying on my living room floor."

"It's not."

"Then where the fuck is it?"

He licked his lips, closing his eyes. "It escaped."

"Out the window?"

"No, through a portal—"

You wheezed, and you were sure you looked half mad to him. "Oh my god, I really am off my rocker." A portal. A portal! Of course it was a portal.

He pinned you with a look. "Yn. Yn, listen to me. You're not safe here."

"No shit. I almost died two minutes ago." You saw his unimpressed expression and forced an apology out of your mouth. "Sorry. Humor is a coping mechanism. You can't just tell me demons exist without me thinking we've both gone absolutely insane."

Changmin settled into a more comfortable position on the floor, gripping onto the edge of the counter behind his head. "Yeah, your sister reacted similarly when she found out."

Everything came to a screeching halt.

"What?"

He stuck his tongue in his cheek. "Supernatural creatures exist. The ones that you read about in books and in myths and legends, and watch in silly movies and TV shows?" He gestured wide with both his arms. "They exist—we exist."

You could hear your heartbeat thundering in your ears. You swallowed. "And she… she knew this?"

A nod. "Yes. We've all been walking among you this whole time."

"What does this have to do with Sena?" What did any of this have to do with your sister? Was this even worse than you imagined it was?

He pursed his lips, exposing the little mole beneath his bottom lip for a moment. "Sena and I were… business partners. We were in the bounty hunting business, essentially."

There were words coming out of his mouth, but it was too much. All of it hit your head and fell straight to the floor, and none of it truly sank into your sense of reality.

Sena was a supernatural bounty hunter? And she died while on a case. A personal one, he said—?

"—I was coming over to show you something when I felt my trap get triggered."

"Wait, wait, wait," you cut in. "Trap?"

"I've been hunting that demon for weeks now," he explained to you, but the words were coming out slowly like he was reluctant to let them go. "It's been… avoiding me, and I tracked it to your apartment and realized what, or who, it was after." His teeth ran over his bottom lip and his eyes narrowed on you. "You're wearing it, aren't you? The pendant?"

On instinct, your hand shot up to your sternum. "How the Hell—"

"That's what Sena and I were looking for." His sharp, feline gaze remained pinned on you as you slowly lifted the chain to take the pendant out. It glistened like a fat, red ruby in the daylight. "What did she tell you about it?"

"Absolutely nothing," you said plainly. You set the knife on the ground beside you and adjusted your sitting position with a shaky exhale. "Except that I shouldn't let anyone touch it before me, that I shouldn't take it off, and to not—trust anyone."

You stiffened when Changmin reached for something in his back pocket.

"Relax, this is what I wanted to show you." He held his hands up after retrieving a cream-colored envelope from his back pocket, majorly bent and crumpled in some portions, but intact for the most part. He slid the envelope across the kitchen floor to you, and you immediately recognized your sister's handwriting.

You gingerly picked it up off the ground and inspected it. It couldn't have been forged—the way she wrote her R's were too distinct. She was so weird about always writing capital R's even if it was supposed to be lowercase.

You opened the flap and tugged out the letter inside. As you made your way down the note, it came to you that this was his evidence. This was his evidence that Sena knew him personally and that, according to past-Sena, you could trust him.

Your fingers shook as you pushed the letter back into the fold, and you shoved the envelope back over to him. "Okay," you muttered. "What now?"

Something akin to relief washed over his face. "She didn't tell you anything about the pendant? Nothing?"

You shook your head, fondling the stone between your fingers. "No. I found it in the lockbox she left for me with cash and a small note."

"Lockbox?" He perked up. "Are you certain there wasn't anything else in there? Not a second stone or a second necklace? Nothing?"

Your eyebrows furrowed in thought, and you pressed your thumb and forefinger to your closed eyes when they began to sting from dehydration. "No. It was just those three things I mentioned earlier. Why?"

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," you said. "I am absolutely sure. You don't think I turned that thing upside down?"

Changmin stood up and began to pace around his side of the kitchen, his head buried in his two palms. "Oh fuck," you heard his muttered swear.

"What is it?"

He rubbed his hands down his face, and it reset him to that careful blankness from before. "Do you trust me?"

"No," came your automatic answer.

He rolled his eyes to the ceiling. "Your sister was after something important before she died. She—she was supposed to update me about it when she got back, but she never did." He carded a hand through his hair again. "It could reveal to us more about what happened. Didn't she mention anything about how important this was?"

He wasn't wrong, unfortunately. Sena wrote it plainly in her final note to you about how important this necklace was, and keeping it with you. You supposed you could dash out any thought that she stole this from a bank or jewelry store… a mortal one, at least.

What the fuck was this thing made of?

You enclosed your fist around the stone. "So what are you saying?"

"We need to finish what she started." He considered something for a moment, then added, "And you're not safe here."

Something panged in your chest. "I'm not teaming up with you."

Changmin took a couple steps toward you and from this distance, there was an unmistakable ferocity in his gaze. "I would agree with you, but unfortunately, if I want answers and the pendant, then I'm stuck with you."

Your blood pressure spiked. "You're such an ass."

"Ass or not," he drawled, "you can stay here and risk that cretin coming back for you, or you can come with me, and we can figure out what the Hell happened to your sister."

Your bones, your joints—everything ached as you clambered to your feet. God, you were tired. A grave sort of determination trickled into your mind, though, at the thought of getting away from this. It didn't seem like there was much other choice anyway.

#4—SURVIVE THE NIGHT.

IT WAS LATE WHEN THE CAR pulled into the motel parking lot. Your ass was on fire from the long drive, and your mind hazy from sleep deprivation. Fear kept you awake for the entirety of the eight hour trek between home and nowhere. You would have worried about Changmin in the driver's seat, but considering you found out he was a supernatural being literally eight hours ago, your worries consoled themselves.

"This was the best out of the selection," he murmured, barely audibly, as he put the car in park. The glow from the motel lights was the only light for miles, and the red-violet from the neon sign washed over Changmin's sharp side profile like a grungy teen thriller show.

A yawn stretched out of you and you reached for your seatbelt. "Wasn't complaining."

He sent you a pointed look. It was a silent "Really?" You pointedly ignored it.

The two of you clambered out of the car and you massaged your back and butt with reprieve. Your hand reached for the red ruby settled beneath the fabric of your T-shirt, the warm stone solid and present between your fingers. Changmin slammed his side of the car closed as he slung his bag over his shoulder, and you were swift to follow his lead.

Your fingers drummed against the side of your pants just as the main office came into view. There was someone seated behind the front desk with her head buried in her phone and Candy Crush on the screen. You and Changmin walked up to the counter and her head flicked upward.

Her eyes darted between you two and something or other clicked in her head. "Room for two?" She droned, already clacking away on her computer screen.

"Yes please," you sighed. You knew there was no way you were getting around her assumptions.

She smacked the gum in the side of her cheek, twirling around in her chair to reach for a key on the wall behind her. "It'll be thirty bucks," she said, sliding the key across the counter, "and we don't have condoms."

You and Changmin both coughed, heat rushing to your face. "None needed," he muttered as he slid a twenty and ten dollar bill over to her.

You collected the key and checked for the room number. Sleep crept into the corners of your eyes again and they were starting to sting from dehydration.

Changmin eyed you from his peripheral vision and nodded his silent thanks to the girl. He swept an arm loosely around your shoulders to guide you back out to the night beyond the main office. The room you were assigned was on the second floor of a building just a little ways down the complex. It was outfitted with a single queen-sized bed and bathroom, and the lights fortunately worked well enough. You couldn't decide if it was a good thing that you were too tired to assess the cleanliness of this room, but you made a beeline for the bathroom.

"I'm taking a shower," you announced, already closing the door.

The last thing you heard was his grunt from the other side.

You dumped your backpack on the lid of the toilet then braced your forearms on the sink counter. The lights in here were a dull gray and made you look sickly in the mirror. Dark bags hung beneath your pinkened eyes—the receptionist probably thought you were drunk or high. Exhaustion hit you like a bus, your limbs sluggish and heavy.

So much had happened in the past 48 hours.

You ripped the shower curtain back and fiddled around with the shower until cold water spouted from the top.

Changmin was a demon. He was Hellspawn. You'd messed around with the idea of him being a pain in the ass before, but you never expected his demon-ness to be true.

When the water warmed as much as it could, you stepped beneath its drizzle. The ruby pendant from your sister sat on your sternum, safe and warm, and you watched it pulse with a glowing scarlet beneath the stream of water.

Your sister.

A few weeks ago, you watched her body lowered into a ditch in the ground. A little before that, you were told her death had been an accident. Now, you were on the run.

From who or what? You weren't completely sure. That was what Changmin was here for. Well, technically he was here for the necklace your sister left with you, but after what happened at your apartment that caused the two of you to go on the run, here you and the necklace were. Plus, the note your sister left explicitly instructed that the necklace be kept with you—on you. (You still weren't too certain of anything.)

When your fingers began to prune, you reluctantly stepped out of the shower to slip on a new set of clothes from your backpack. You went through the motions of getting ready to sleep, too, mind fuzzy and unable to make sense of anything.

You wrestled down a sigh and desire to cry. You were tired, for fuck's sake, you were so tired.

But when you opened the bathroom door, flicking the light off, you paused. The room was dark.

Your breath hitched in your throat and the hair on the back of your neck stood at attention. Heart pounding, you took a step into the main room.

"Chang—" A palm closed around your mouth, another cupping the back of your head.

Panicpanicpanic—

A warm breath by your ear. "Calm down. It's just me." Changmin.

Fucking Hell.

You found his eyes as yours grew more accustomed to the dark. His head twisted over his shoulder to the window by the door where you could see silhouettes walking past, silent and stalking.

"Someone's here," he exhaled as he slowly removed his hand from over your mouth. His dark bangs hung in his eyes, his mouth set in a firm line. "They can sense the pendant, I think."

Your heart thundered against your ribcage—ba-boom, ba-boom, ba-boom—

Changmin's head whipped back toward you and he fished something out of his pocket. He reached for your hand, closing your fingers around something cold and metal. "Slowly put your backpack down and barricade yourself in the closet over there," he instructed quietly, finger pointing in the direction of the sliding doors just to your left. "If it comes to it, use the knife, Yn."

You bit your tongue to keep your breathing as steady as possible. Your hands shook around the switchblade he'd passed to you, and under his sharp eyes, you carefully lowered your bag to the ground without making as much noise as you could. Then, with his go-ahead, you crept as quietly as possible toward the closet.

Just as you reached for the slot in the door, all Hell broke loose.

The window shattered open, the door kicked off its hinges. Your entire body tensed as you dropped to the floor behind the bed, clutching the knife in front of you.

Changmin swore, nice and loud.

Shadows pummeled him to the ground until he was tangled in darkness, like nightmares brought to life. You saw a flash of claws in your view, your scream caught in your throat.

"You."

A blur of shadow whisked across your vision and your eyes went wide.

The creature crawled over the bed and pounced toward you—you rolled away from him, blade held out in front of your body. Oh, there was an awful wave of déjà vu coming over you.

"You are a difficult being to find, pet," the creature hissed. You were beginning to make out its features now—dagger-like eyes, claws that could easily rip flesh apart like cloth, and a maw of knives for teeth. Shit straight out of nightmares.

It cocked its head at you, crouching on the floor a few feet away. Why hadn't it attacked you yet?

"Curious," its scratchy voice croaked. "The master will be pleased when the asset is brought home to her."

The asset? It must have meant the necklace.

You heard a snarl from your right, and in horror, noted the thick, dark liquid splattered all over Changmin's clothes and body. When he snarled at the demons holding him down, you spotted the gleam of fangs.

"What do you want from me?" Your voice trembled, returning back to your main problem. The necklace sat warm and present, the pulses matching your racing heartbeat.

The creature released a sound like grating metal, something akin to a laugh. "Your guardian is more dangerous than he appears," he said instead while tilting its head to the side. "Clever being, that one. Master will be pleased when we bring his rotted corpse home."

You didn't anticipate how quickly it would move. You screamed as the creature dove for you and you swung out of the way. Its claws dug into the meat of your thigh, clinging to the flesh there with all of its might.

Fear struck painfully through your chest and you desperately twisted around to stab the blade into the side of the creature's neck.

It screeched. You drew the knife out to impale it in the back area, messily splattering an arc of its black blood everywhere.

You sucked in a sob as you scrambled backward. Its body dragged along the ground from its claws still sunken into your leg. The body was limp, but your nose wrinkled from the acrid, hot smell reeking from the corpse. It smelled burnt.

You peered at the blade in your fist with new eyes. The silver glowed gold in the darkened room; you shouldn't have expected anything less. Why did you think a mortal weapon could defend you from demonic creatures?

"YN!"

Too late.

Claws sunk into the sides of your throat and trapped your voice there. You thrashed around; panic stabbed your chest. Pathetically, desperately, you reached your arm back to try and drill the blade of your knife into the creature behind you.

Hot blood squelched down your throat—you were losing feeling there. Numb numb numb—it hurt, oh fuck, you were going to die—

All at once, the pressure subsided.

Breath could only flood into your lungs as quickly as blood spilled from your throat. You were choking, eyes wide up at the ceiling.

This was it, this was it. Maybe you'd see your sister in Hell.

A face appeared above you, sweaty but familiar. Your blurry vision couldn't make out the emotions on his face, but you could hear him… boy, could you hear him.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," he cursed, rustling around and adjusting his position above your body.

His rough palms cupped your face. You could hear your heartbeat slowing in your ears. Ba-boom… ba-boom… ba… boom.

"Stay with me," he panted. His left hand pressed against that side of your neck to staunch the blood flow. He sucked in a breath and he ducked out of your view.

You felt a different wet sensation over your open wound. His tongue was rough, yet soothing as he lapped and sucked on the gouge in your throat. Feeling sparked in that area; you could feel your skin physically stitching itself together. If you could squirm, you would have.

He was swift to switch to your other side and copy those actions there. He groaned low against your skin, one hand cupping the side of your head to hold you in place.

Oxygen rushed through your lungs and you gasped. You tore your neck away from his mouth to dry retch. Blood dripped from the side of your lips to the dusty carpet. You had been asphyxiating on your own life force.

You flopped back onto your back, tears rolling down your cheeks as you gestured wildly at the steaming demon carcass still attached to your thigh. "Ple-please," you whimpered. "Please, get it off."

Changmin crawled onto his arms, sliding down toward your leg. "Yeah, sweetheart. I got it."

He looked up at you as he dug his fingers into the creature's skull, ready to pry the thing's claws from you. Something dark was smudged over his face—his nose, cheeks, across his eye. "It's gonna hurt," he warned, voice hoarse.

You moved your head in a microscopic nod.

Tears pricked at your vision, and your leg screamed. Blood filled your mouth even more from the force you used to clamp down on your tongue. Changmin was swift, but gentle as he removed each claw from your thigh, then tossed the body somewhere behind him. He lowered his face to your leg to carefully lap at your wounds like he'd done before.

When he was done, he flopped onto the floor with you, his sigh filling the awful silence.

You could feel everything. It was pulsing all over your body. Your skin, threading together, tingled and ached and throbbed. Your cheeks were damp with tear tracks and your fingers finally loosened their grip on the switchblade. Your mouth was coated in the metallic iron taste of blood.

The only familiar feeling was the pendant on your sternum. The bane of your existence.

"So you have magic spit?" You croaked, your voice scratchy from your sore and bruised throat.

You heard his huff, the closest thing you'd ever heard to a laugh from him. "It's regenerative," he exhaled deeply.

You snorted, then winced when it hurt.

If you could look up, you would've seen the corner of his lips twitch.

"Are you sure you're not a vampire?"

You heard a soft shuffling sound as he clambered upright to lean against the wall. His head thumped against it, eyes fluttered closed. "I don't drink blood, sweetheart."

"I didn't say you drank it."

You grimaced as you struggled to swallow. Reality was swooping in on you like a vulture above a carcass. Doom swirled in your stomach—you almost died just now. You choked on a sob, and you reached up to your face to brush away your tears.

Oh god, everything hurt.

"I want to go home," you whispered. It wasn't even to Changmin, just to whoever could hear you. Homehomehome, but where was home? They could find you anywhere.

A beat passed.

"I'm sorry." Changmin's head hung, either out of exhaustion or genuine regret. "I promised your sister I wouldn't get you involved."

You still couldn't move your head much, so you kept your gaze on the speckled ceiling. "What?"

"I have… had sisters."

You didn't hide your surprise. You didn't think you would ever get anything personal out of this guy, let alone the fact he had family. But his confession planted a seed of sympathy in you… maybe he was human before, or maybe he wasn't at all, but he had family. That had to count for something.

He released another haggard sigh. "So that was one of the few things we could agree on—keeping you out of this unless necessary."

Necessary. You should have never put on the necklace, should have never touched the cursed thing. Now, you were literally chained to it and its fate.

He went quiet again and you could hear your heartbeat in your ears. You thought he was going to say something else, but instead, he rose to his feet. Taking slow, careful steps, he made his way over to your body.

"C'mon, let's get out of here," he murmured as he tucked his hands under your armpits to haul you upright.

You cursed under your breath at the ache and the blood rushing to your head. Your left leg was pretty much useless, and he had to cup the nape of your neck to his shoulder so you could lean on him.

"Can you walk?" He asked, his breath by your ear again.

You shook your head, pressing your mouth against the muscle of his shoulder. He smelled like demon blood, and you shifted to lean your cheek on him instead, holding in a gag at the wretched stench.

"Okay. Hold on a second."

He helped you sit down on the ledge of the bed, before going around the room to collect things. He plucked up your backpack from the floor, then his own bag, hoisting them both over his shoulders before returning to you. From your vantage, you could see all the limp demon corpses lying on the ground, unmoving. You wrestled down the bile creeping up your throat and looked away.

Changmin scooped you up in his arms with a grunt, and you looped yours around his upper body, tucking yourself into him. "We have to get out of here before someone comes to check this shit out," he said to you as he exited the room.

You gave a nod. "Aren't you tired? Hurt?" You asked, guilt and fear twisting something horrid in your chest.

"Don't worry about me."

"How could I not?"

His lips twitched. "Oh, so you care about me now?"

You closed your eyes against his shoulder. "Don't be an asshole."

"Sure, sweetheart." He made it to the car and instructed you to reach around his back to get the car key hanging from his bag strap. Changmin managed to get the car door open and deposited you in your seat. Your body molded into the material, exhaustion settling once more into your bones and joints.

In a blink, the two of you were back on the road.

Changmin carded a hand through his damp hair as he pulled out onto the barren street. You rolled your head to the side, eyes drinking him in. There were scratches over his exposed skin, barely there, but still present as if they had healed over already. His clothes were splotched and stained, as well as ripped in other places. And of course, there was the blood smeared all over his face, his neck. The bastard didn't even look fazed.

Right, demon. What did that even entail?

Your eyelids were beginning to droop, yanked down by the force of gravity and the human necessity to sleep. You didn't want to sleep though; you didn't want to be attacked a third time. Though most of the adrenaline had dissipated, your shoulders were still tense, your senses alert and unable to relax just yet.

Changmin glanced over at you briefly. "You should sleep."

You moved your head. "Can't," you rasped.

He reached over then, his palm warm against your head, as he gently brushed his thumb over your eyelids to coax them closed. "You're safe with me, Yn," he promised. You were reluctant to believe him, but after what just happened, at least you knew he could take care of himself and you.

Sleep was already coaxing you into its jaws to devour you, and the pendant under your shirt pulsed to a steady beat to encourage your descent. "Morning will come soon."

All you could do now was trust him.

#5—THE ANGEL BLADE.

THE DINER OFF THE INTERSTATE was like the ones from the movies: red, vinyl seats that squelched when you scooted over them; blind fluorescent lights that flickered every time a fly died against them; people minding their own business as they hunched over grainy coffee and burgers that looked a little too good to be true. You sat across from Changmin, hands laced over the white table surface while he had his arms braided over his chest.

Another eight hours had passed since the motel. You'd found a rest stop to clean up and change clothes on the way, but when you could no longer deny your need for food, Changmin made the executive decision to feed the monster that was your stomach. Executive decision meant he was driving you somewhere to eat something so you wouldn't pass out from stubborn, self-induced hunger.

You're not gonna die if you want fries and chicken tenders, Yn, he'd said with a roll of his eyes.

Easy for him to say. He wasn't the target of every other supernatural being within a fifty mile radius. Perhaps by association, but still.

It was fascinating what a few hours of rest and magical demon saliva could do to help the human body. All of your wounds had pretty much closed up—albeit a tad sore, but nothing as awful as the pain you were in when being clawed in the moment. It was even more fascinating how alive Changmin looked despite literally not being alive. And the fact he hadn't slept a wink within the past day at least.

You, on the other hand, looked like a dumpster fire. Your hair was a bird's nest, eye bags more expensive than Louis Vuitton. Your stomach gave another whining growl; you'd ordered not five minutes ago with a middle-aged woman in too-bright red lipstick and a blue collared dress uniform.

"Are you sure you're not like, a vampire?"

His face dropped into a deadpan you'd seen before. "Oh my God."

"You can say His name?"

Your lips curled into a self-indulgent smile at the way he rolled his eyes so hard, he could probably see his brain back there. (If he had one.) "Sorry."

"You're not sorry," he said, eyebrow arching. "Do you have any real questions?"

Your hands shifted to your lap as your gaze moved to the window next to you. The sky was an ugly, sickly shade of gray-green. It reminded you of the lighting from the first Twilight movie, and you gagged at the thought. The bright red and neon of the diner clashed horridly with the sky, too. All of it was a little disconcerting.

Back in the car, when Changmin was first introducing you to the real world, he'd given you the short version of the supernatural who lived amongst oblivious humans. He hadn't gotten down to the nitty-gritty, just the shit he needed you to know so he could justify hauling you across the state, and to understand all the supernatural creatures after the little pendant resting beneath your shirt collar.

Two mugs of coffee were set onto your table, the dark liquid sloshing over the sides to stain the white below it.

You reached for your mug first, gently cooling it down with a breath. When you took a sip, gingerly, you grimaced. You somehow managed to wrestle the liquid down, but the searing bitterness was enough to make you push the cup away and reach for the sugar packets at the end of the table.

Changmin watched you in amusement, tongue poking the inside of his mouth.

You narrowed your eyes at him as you ripped a Stevia packet open. "What're you laughing at?"

"M'not laughing," he shrugged. He picked up his cup of coffee, clinked it against yours for good measure, then chugged the cup of shit in one sitting.

You watched in ill-concealed disgust, horror, and… maybe you were a little impressed.

When he set the drained cup on the table, he wiped his smug mouth with a napkin from the aluminum dispenser.

It was your turn to deadpan. "Show off," you muttered, stirring your artificial sweetener into the dark brown brew.

He shrugged again. "What? Like it's hard?"

"Oh my god, you can be funny."

Your chicken tenders arrived. Steam wafted from them and you closed your eyes to inhale the beautiful smell. Happiness on a plate, you liked to think.

Changmin thanked the waitress who had also delivered him a plate of blueberry pancakes. He eyed you quietly as you inhaled the food on your plate, despite the dull throbbing in your throat.

You caught his gaze, stopping mid-tender. "Want some?" You asked after swallowing the bite, gesturing to your fries.

He shook his head and began buttering up his hotcakes. "Nah. Have at it."

The two of you settled into a comfortable silence as you ate your separate meals. Changmin had told you before that demons didn't need all the typical things humans needed to "survive" or "live." Technically, since he was undead, there were only a handful of ways he could die. Eating and sleeping were necessary for human life, but they were more so preferences for him. If he wanted to eat, he could eat. If he wanted to close his eyes and dream, he could try.

The thought had you waving a fry at him. "The switchblade," you began, drawing his attention and pancake-stuffed cheeks, "what was it? It definitely wasn't something human-made."

Changmin swallowed his bite. "It was an angel blade."

"You're kidding," you drawled in disbelief.

He challenged your stare. "Believe it or not, it was. Forged up there." He lifted the prongs of his fork up toward the ceiling, shaking his bangs out of his eyes.

Your jaw dropped. "So the Big Man Upstairs does exist?"

"I mean, I don't really know. I've never met him if he does. I just know the angels are ruled by the Seraphim," he told you. "Lots of hierarchical bullshit I didn't care to pay attention to."

He impaled another piece of pancake. "Angel blades are one of the few things that can kill a creature like that."

"A demon?" You asked.

"Yes. Lower level demons are easier to kill, especially with a blade like the one I gave you." He shoved the bite into his cheek to continue, "That's why I was able to take on multiple at once."

You made a noise of indignation. "So you're telling me you're a higher level demon?"

His shoulders fell in a half-hearted shrug.

"Helpful," you muttered as you washed your meal down with bittersweet coffee. You paused for a moment, cleaning your fingers off with a napkin. "The… the licking thing."

Changmin's eyes could not meet yours. "Mhm."

"Do you… do you do that often?"

"No," he said curtly. "That party trick only works on humans and I don't really enjoy the taste of blood."

You pursed your lips at his rather clipped response. "Oh." You recalled the sound he'd made as he cleaned your blood up with his tongue at the motel… maybe it was something out of disgust. You suddenly felt out of place, like you had made his shoulders tense up and the air crackle. You racked your brain. "I—thanks, by the way."

With a cough, he murmured, "Welcome. Couldn't have you dying on me."

You nursed your coffee cup, reaching up to absentmindedly fondle the pendant under your shirt. "Yeah."

"Have you ever met an angel?"

The car was quiet as Changmin peered over his shoulder to switch lanes, the blinker tick-tocking away until it was turned off. "Yeah."

You stared out the front windshield to count the white colored cars on the highway amongst you. "What're they like?"

"They're like every other species," he said, unenthused. "Some are more asshole-ish than others. You'll find good ones and bad ones." A sigh. "The ones I've met have largely been the latter though."

"Oh." You weren't sure if you were disappointed by that answer.

The diner had been less than half an hour ago and you were back on the road again. Yours and Changmin's ETA to your sister's safehouse was supposedly another five or so hours. You couldn't believe she owned safehouses. For fuck's sake, she lived with you for majority of the time before she went to study abroad… she probably wasn't even abroad all those times, you realized anxiously.

It was like he could sense your change in mood from bored curiosity to tense overthinking. He dug around in the pocket of his pants and handed you the pommel of the switchblade from the motel. Angel blade, he'd called it.

You glanced at him in question, but he only pushed it into your palms.

"Get comfortable with it," he said. "It's a decent size as far as angel blades goes, since those fuckers don't really like to give them up. It's good for self defense."

The blade looked like something one could buy at a gift shop, slim with some heft, painted a shiny white color. There was no logo on it, but if you looked at it from the right angle, it shimmered. You unlocked it and let the blade whip out of the slot. The blade was shaped like any other box cutter you've seen before, but the underside had a serrated edge for extra ease in slicing through tougher materials. Your finger ghosted over the glowing metal, silver warming to a yellow-orange, but only if you didn't blink in the daylight.

You killed a demon with this. The blade burned the creature.

"How'd you get this if they don't like giving these up?" You asked as you figured out how to put the blade back into its sheath.

His fingers drummed against the wheel. "Won it in a poker game," he said.

Your eyebrows lifted. "Seriously?"

You swore there was a ghost of a smile on his lips. "Seriously."

With nothing better to do, you flicked the blade in and out, in and out. You'd only ever really held blades in the kitchen and when opening packages. "Do you have a name for it?"

"A name?"

"Yeah," you said, shifting slightly in your seat as an ache crept into your spinal cord, "y'know like the fantasy books where they name their blades." You inspected the switchblade again, rotating it in your hands. "Looks like a Clyde."

Changmin let out a huff from his nose. "Clyde?"

"What? Got any better ideas?"

"How about we don't name dangerous utilities for murder," he drawled.

"I can't believe you didn't just say 'weapons.'" When he didn't answer you, you made an indignant little noise you hoped annoyed him and admired the angel blade in your hand in a new light. Clyde. Hi, Clyde. You're pretty.

"Don't tell me you're communicating with it," he said to you.

You ran your finger over the flat side again with a fond smile—just to annoy him. "It doesn't give me lip."

A sigh. He tended to do that a lot. "How's your neck?"

Your hand lifted to your throat and massaged it lightly. "It's doing alright. Does it still look bruised?"

You tilted your neck so he could take a good look at it. He eyed the span of flesh there, his dark irises taking on a strange tint. The corner of his mouth curled downward as he turned his focus back to the road. "Yeah."

"It doesn't hurt as bad anymore, if that's any better."

"I guess," he grumbled. "Humans are so fragile."

"Hey man," you huffed, "is it my fault that I don't have magic spit or my skin doesn't heal fast—"

"How many times do I have to tell you? It's not magic spit. That's just how human biology reacts to demon saliva." Changmin tapped the back of his hand on the steering wheel as a vague gesture.

You shifted in your seat to look at him and so that you could take pressure off one side of your back. "I have a question. Why does demon saliva have healing properties when usually lore says that you guys are opposite in nature? Actually, that kind of sounds prejudicial," you thought aloud.

"It is prejudicial," he replied. "Well, mostly. It depends on the demon, but we're just like any other species. It's just that most pop culture depicts us as evil. Demons and vampires are derivations of each other in that—"

"So you are a vampire!"

He didn't even try to counter you this time. "Both species have saliva that can heal wounds, not large wounds, but you can probably imagine that vampires use it to seal puncture marks post-meal."

That made sense to you. "But why do demons need it?"

"Human blood…" he trailed off for a moment as he narrowly missed a car zooming past, his glaring eyes trailing after them, "...is like our saliva. It regenerates us. It's kind of like an energy drink, so it's not a necessity, but more so like a luxury or privilege."

You swallowed and you could've sworn you heard a soft huff from his mouth like a laugh. The thought of your blood being like an energy drink for him—and he'd literally licked your wounds clean at the motel that night. Was that how he was able to heal so quickly? It was a marvel he hadn't drunk you dry. But then again, he'd also said blood wasn't his taste…?

"Are you sure you don't like human blood?" You asked, sounding like a broken record, but more apprehensively this time.

"Sweetheart, you really think you'd still be here if I did?"

Touché.

Out of the corner of your eye, you caught Changmin stiffen. His hands tightened the slightest amount around the steering wheel, his eyes darting from the front windshield to the rearview mirror.

"What?" You asked, taking a look through the side mirror on your side. "What's wrong?"

Changmin's face washed over in a careful blankness. "We're being followed."

Your whole body tensed and you had to physically restrain yourself from twisting around in your seat. "What?"

"Hey, stay calm." He flicked his turn signal on casually as he exited off the freeway.

"Why are you telling them where we're going?!" He was literally signaling to whoever was following you exactly your next move.

"Just because we're on the run, doesn't mean we shouldn't follow basic driving safety."

You sent him a very emboldened stink eye. "Out of all the times, you choose now to have a sense of humor and to be an upstanding citizen?" Where was this during the entire road trip thus far?

Changmin made no other comments as he turned right onto the street leading further away from the freeway. You sat quietly for a moment, monitoring the cars behind you from your side mirror. Your knee started bouncing as you took note of the white sedan following behind, not tailgating, but its intentions were clear enough where even you could pick it out.

"What're we gonna do?" You murmured.

Changmin glanced over at you briefly. "We're gonna be fine. We just have to lose them."

"No shit."

"And you say I give you lip?"

Without any forewarning, Changmin jerked the car to the left, practically zooming across the intersection to catch the yellow light. Your whole body sailed across the center console, and before you could give him a piece of your mind, he was sending you crashing into your doorway from another sharp turn. You glared daggers at him, but turned to peer out your window.

The white car was still following after you. They must have run the red light then.

Changmin's sharp eyes sliced across the rearview mirror, and his foot lowered on the gas pedal like a challenge. His eyes whipped back and forth for somewhere he could go next, brain working double the speed. "Hold onto something, sweetheart."

"I don't think that would—HELPPP!" You sputtered and yanked on the handle above the door, hugging yourself to that side of the car.

You could hear the tires of Changmin's car burn rubber and squeal as he zigzagged through streets. You were pretty sure half of this was residential, you thought as the landscape blurred past.

"Do you even know where—" You swore as your body flailed around from another one of his god awful swerves, "—we are?"

He shook his head and floored the gas. "Nope."

Great.

It was about fifteen minutes of this supposed drag racing before his driving finally began to even out. You were seconds from hurling up diner food when you realized…

"Where the fuck did the trees come from?" You asked, lowering your tense form from the door handle.

You pressed your nose against the window to gawk up at the towering trees on your side of the vehicle, all dark green and beautiful. A light fog clung to some of the leaves, making the sunlight streaming through them look like golden strands of gossamer. The road you drove on held to the side of the mountain, but from what you could tell, Changmin had officially lost the white sedan.

Changmin visibly relaxed. "You might wanna pull up a GPS."

You reached over to your phone in the cupholder. But you pretty much tossed it right back. "No bars. Where did you take us?" You didn't even realize there was so much forest in this area. How come you hadn't seen it from the highway?

He gave a sigh, raking a hand through his hair. "Shit."

The car sunk into silence. Changmin could do nothing else but follow the road until you hit civilization or some kind of sign as to where you two were. You hadn't been in this part of the state before, so it wasn't like you could point out any landmarks. But as you both continued along, you settled into a sort of calm—the trees here were beautiful, untouched by man. Even from inside the car, you could feel the serenity.

Your finger pressed down on the button on your door to lower the window. You stuck your head out, hair flowing behind you. With a great inhale, your mouth broke into a smile. It smelled just as gorgeous as it looked. Fresh and clean and—

"You've got to be shitting me."

You pulled yourself back into the car and raised the window back up. "What?"

Changmin's mouth was set in a firm line, a dimple pressing deep into his cheek. "Wolves."

Your brows knitted together. "Huh?"

"We're in wolf shifter territory."

Just as he said this to you, the car rounded the side of the bend and revealed a large green sign that read: WELCOME TO MOONSTONE CREAK! Population 276.

The sign following it did not make you feel any better: CAMPERS! BEWARE OF WOLVES.

#6—BEWARE OF WOLVES.

AT THE FIRST SIGN OF WOLVES, you sunk low in your seat. You'd made eye contact with one of the furry creatures hidden in the brush, their sharp predator eyes narrowing at the sight of a foreign entity in their woods.

"By wolf shifters," you said quietly, holding onto Clyde in your lap, "you mean like… werewolves?"

Changmin's eyes stayed on the road ahead, but every once in a while, you would catch him scanning the forest, too. "Those aren't the same things. Werewolves are the things you read about in lore, half-man and half-wolf. Wolf shifters can change completely from man to wolf and vice versa."

"Oh." Well, that cleared some things up. "I'm guessing they don't take kindly to trespassers?"

He bit his lip. "I mean, it depends on the pack. If my hunch is right about where we are though, we shouldn't have to worry."

You gulped. "And if you aren't?"

"Well, I told you to get used to that angel blade, right?"

The trek further into the forest and mountains continued. The scenery around you was still as stunning as it was before, and you thought to yourself how dangerous a beautiful thing could be. Every time you peeked out of the car window, you saw a flash of something in the woods beyond the road. There had to be a reason why they hadn't attacked the car yet, right? If this was a pack of wolves who didn't like trespassers, then why were you and Changmin still alive?

Maybe they wanted you in a place where there was no chance of outsiders hearing you scream…

Your intrusive thoughts were getting to you.

There was a dead end, a near broken road sign and fence directing all passers-by that this was the end. Changmin was forced to take the off-road path, beaten into the dirt as it wound through the forest. If you didn't have signal up on the main road, you definitely would not have any here.

It was a few more minutes of traveling down the path that two wolves appeared before the car. Changmin brought the vehicle to a slow halt. The wolves were relatively large, spanning about six feet and about as tall as the bottom rim of the car door window. One of the wolves had black hair like a raven, and the other had hair like a field of grain.

Your heart stuttered in your chest as the wolves stared right at you. "Changmin…?"

He met their staring contest with little intimidation. "It's… it's fine. I think they recognize me."

After a moment, the two wolves broke their strange staring contest and trotted off to the side of the road. They were back so quickly, you almost didn't realize what had happened. Like magic, they had transformed into two toned young men, both nicely built with their lean upper body on display. They must have had a strategic stash of shorts hidden behind a tree for after they shifted to their human forms. One had cropped black hair, the other blond. Well, at least that made sense.

Changmin slumped in his chair, relieved. The corners of his mouth curled upward in an almost-smile, as the two wolf shifters came over to greet him at his window.

The brunette bent his head down to the window with a broad smile, the kind that made your stomach fill with butterflies. (Not to mention the eyeful of abs you and Changmin were getting…) He leaned his arms over the top of the car window, eyes flickering from the demon to you. "Long time no see, Changmin. Who's your friend?"

"That's Yn," your demon guardian said, clasping one of the man's hands in greeting. He reached for the second wolf shifter. "Haknyeon, nice to see you, too."

"Good to see you, Changmin" said the blond.

Oh, so he knew them.

Changmin gestured to the two men. "Yn, this is Kevin and Haknyeon. They're with the pack."

"Not that we're unhappy to see you," Kevin drawled, "but how did you find us?"

Okay, wait. If Changmin knew them, then why wouldn't he know the location of their pack? You sat quiet, waiting for someone to explain it to you… or just explain everything to you.

"Someone was following us and I lost them," Changmin told them, "but I managed to get us lost, too. Coincidence that we ended up here. I'm glad it's you guys and not another pack."

Kevin's eyebrows flew up. "Yeah, for sure. Well—" he turned his head up toward the treetops and scanned the skies. They were beginning to bruise like your skin as the sun sank somewhere amongst the trees and into the horizon. You hadn't even realized how dark it was starting to get. "—sun's already pretty low right now. Why don't you guys shack up with us tonight and then we'll help you out in the morning?"

"That would be great actually." Wow, really? You kept your surprise at bay. "Lead the way."

With no further discussion needed, Kevin and Haknyeon disappeared behind the same large tree trunk from before, then re-emerged as the wolves from before. Kevin, the one with black colored fur, pointed with his snout in the direction the path would take you. The two wolves began to trot down the path, and Changmin waited for them to get somewhat ahead before he flicked his headlights on and followed.

It was a curious act of consideration, you thought.

You watched as the wolves began to pick up speed, your eyes flickering to the speedometer. "So…" you drawled, "what the fuck just happened?"

A sharp huff, his version of a laugh. "They're old friends," he said.

"How'd you not know this was where their pack was if they're old friends?"

"I met them out of the pack," he explained. "It was somewhere in the New England area, and we just happened to be hunting the same thing."

Hunting? Oh, bounty hunter. Right. "And the—the shifting thing."

"What about it?"

You made a face of frustration. He always made you pull teeth when you wanted background information. "Everything."

He glanced at you. "I think it'd be better if one of them explained it to you. Better to have one of their own say it right than risk me getting something wrong."

That was, unfortunately, a very fair answer.

Instead of pushing on the wolf topic, you had more questions that he could answer. "So what now? Are we just gonna stay the night? Is it safe?" What if that white car found a way in here? Neither of you could see who the driver was, and so how could either of you be sure they weren't trying to perhaps get you both here? And if they also had the means to come in here without being marked as trespassers?

"It's safe," he said with such confidence that you arched your brows. He saw your expression, making a soft turn along the road as the wolves had, the pads of his fingers lifting off the steering wheel for a second in gesture. "I know what you're probably thinking, but it's safer than sleeping out in a motel off the highway, alright? Packs usually don't drive cars, and they have maybe one or two for convenience sake. They can smell trespassers from miles away, and they usually have people on watch all the time, which is how they found us so quickly."

You supposed that made sense. The forest here seemed denser, and with the quickly fading light, it made it all the more unnavigable. If you were to try to run… good fucking luck.

You opened your mouth to say something, but nothing came out. As the car rounded the bend, yours and Changmin's faces illuminated with the glow of light.

The town was laid out flat before you, not over a ridge, not over a mountain, but a path that led into a central meeting place with wooden buildings all around it. The lights were all from candle-lit lanterns rather than the LEDs and fluorescents of the human world. There were a mixture of both wolves and people milling about, an air of warm cheeriness that you could feel even from the car. You felt a fuzziness manifest in your chest at the sight.

Kevin and Haknyeon directed Changmin toward a back road to the right behind a row of buildings. It was most likely to avoid getting in the way of the pack members, you guessed. You kept silent as you averted your eyes from the void-like darkness of the forest beyond to your right.

Up ahead, you saw the two wolves trot into a small paved area with one other car parked along the walkway. It seemed to be like a makeshift alleyway of sorts between two blocks of buildings. With some maneuvering, Changmin managed to parallel park into the space that was just big enough for his vehicle.

When he parked, he gestures for you to follow his lead and get out of the car. "You should be safe to come out with me. We'll probably meet the pack alpha and get everything settled—" His head tilted to the side, "—hopefully."

Your eyes shuttered. "Hopefully?" You echoed. Pack alpha? What the fuck did that entail? From what you remember in the books and shows, you thought to yourself as you clambered out of the car and stretched your sore limbs, wolf packs had an alpha that would lead everyone. You weren't sure if you would have to go through some kind of cult initiation or something to be granted permission to stay the night.

The angel blade sat tucked into the pocket of your pants along with your phone, and you slammed your car door shut. From here, you could peer down the alley and see out into the glowing atmosphere of the town center. It sounded like fun, actually—all of the chatter and laughter. You hadn't been anywhere so lively-sounding in awhile.

"Yn right?"

You startled a little, whirling around to find the brunette—Kevin was his name—smiling at you sheepishly. He was back in human form with a pair of shorts and a plain white T-shirt on. "Sorry I snuck up on you," he said.

"Oh, it's totally fine!" You laughed bashfully, smoothing a hand down your hair. "And yes, I'm Yn. You're Kevin, right?"

Man, he was so much prettier up close…

Kevin nodded. "Yeah, it's nice to meet you. Changmin says this is all pretty new to you." He gestured loosely to the world around him, an all encompassing notion to the entire world you had just unearthed beneath your nose.

Your eyes darted behind Kevin where Changmin and Haknyeon were gathered on the other side of the car, pulling yours and Changmin's bags out the backseat. Changmin caught your eyes, lifted his eyebrows, then returned to his conversation.

So he was just gonna leave you in the hands of the very handsome wolf shifter? Cool.

"Yeah, it's kind of a crazy story," you mused. Understatement of the century. "Thanks for taking us in, by the way.

"It's no worries," he chirped. "Changmin and us? We go back pretty far, I'd like to think."

"Oh, cool! He mentioned something about that… and something about meeting the pack alpha?"

Kevin's eyes flickered to something behind you, and you turned around to see what or who it was on instinct. "It's nothing to stress about—he's coming this way, actually."

You felt his hand, warm and large, gently settle between your shoulder blades to guide you toward the two men making their way down the alley toward you both.

One of them… well you could feel the subtle shift in the air. It was as if molecules in the air moved for him. He boasted a powerful sort of stature, with dark hair parted neatly to frame a carved face. For a moment, you didn't know if you were supposed to bow or something, but then he smiled, and you nearly fell over from that alone. He wasn't so scary once he smiled.

The man next to him was a lighter brunette with a cheery expression engraved onto his face as if that were his default setting. There was something about him, however—you thought he glowed a little in the dim light. The angel blade in your pocket seemed to warm slightly at the sight of him.

(So was everyone just super attractive in the supernatural world?)

"Changmin-ah," greeted the man with darker colored hair. He clasped his hand with Changmin's in greeting. "It's been awhile."

"It has," your demon counterpart agreed. "Thanks for taking us in on such short notice. I wouldn't have intruded had I known."

The man brushed the thought away. "It's okay, really. Nice to have a couple new faces around."

"Speaking of new faces," drawled the second man. He beamed a pretty smile your way, waving. "Hi, little one."

Something warm blossomed in your chest. "Hi," you said softly. You weren't certain of etiquette—if you were expected to speak for yourself, to bow…

But it seemed Kevin had your back. He clasped his warm hand on your shoulder. "This is Yn. She came in with Changmin."

"Nice to meet you, Yn. I'm Sangyeon." This was the man with black hair, who felt like the tangible version of power. He must have been the pack alpha. He had to be.

The other man placed a hand on his chest. "And I'm Jacob!"

"We're just looking for a place to stay for the night," Changmin piped up. He tucked his hands into his pockets, eyes shifting over to yours.

"Well, why don't we head over to the pack house and we can talk about all the details of a plan," said Sangyeon. He inclined his chin in the direction of where you assumed the pack house was. Then his eyes, you watched their keen movements, latched onto Kevin's as if they were communicating silently. "Yn," you nearly jolted when you realized he was addressing you. "Kevin's gonna take you to the small inn we have here. It'll give you a little more privacy, and I'm sure you've felt pretty overwhelmed."

It didn't sound like he was asking you, but there was a warmth to his smile. You couldn't help but feel inclined to agree.

Changmin's head went on a swivel. "Wait, she's not coming with us?"

Haknyeon and Jacob were already rounding on either side of him to guide him in the opposite direction Kevin was leading you. Something in the back of your head made you turn over your shoulder to look at him. Was being separated such a bad thing?

Haknyeon suddenly tossed Kevin your backpack, the latter shouldering it.

"Come on, Yn," Kevin chirped, angling his body as he nudged you along so you could no longer see Changmin. "There's a lovely hearth in the main lobby, and the auntie who runs the place makes the best cookies ever."

You nodded slowly as your brain struggled to think of any reason why they would separate you from Changmin. And why did he sound so surprised? Your hand drifted toward the pocket that hid your angel blade. "Oh, really? That sounds nice."

They didn't drug them, did they? Your shoulders tensed at the idea.

Why did they separate you and Changmin—

The inn was the building right outside the alley with a porch that spanned the front facade. The architecture reminded you of an upscale cabin with large oak logs piled atop each other to make up the structure. A warm light emitted from the front windows and glass doors, and you swore you could smell the cookies from here.

When you and Kevin entered the building, he called out a greeting to an older woman stationed behind a reception desk in the back corner. She greeted the both of you with a cordial smile, wiggling her fingers in a wave. Her head tilted curiously at you, however, her eyes zeroing in on…

Your attention was drawn away and you were directed toward the seating area on the other side of the lobby.

"Can I get you any water or anything?" Kevin asked you as he motioned for you to take a seat in the armchair adjacent to him. He set your backpack at your feet for you.

You lowered yourself onto the edge of the seat, hand reaching for the pendant beneath your shirt—you stopped short. Could he sense the power of the pendant? Was that why they separated you from your demon bodyguard? Oh fuck—

"Hey, hey," Kevin suddenly said softly, face morphing into an expression of concern. "No need to get panicked, okay? You're safe now."

Wait. What? You wrung your hands in your lap, heart still throwing itself up against your ribcage. "Safe? What do you mean safe? Safe from what?"

Kevin considered you for a moment, but the gentleness from his voice and body language never left. "You're safe from Changmin."

"Safe from Changmin?"

"Yes," he affirmed patiently. "The bruises on your neck—"

Your hand went to cover the side of your throat where it had been pierced by the maw of a demon, but not Changmin.

"—does he feed from you? They look fresh—"

You immediately put your hands up to gesticulate in wild opposition. "Oh, no, no, no. He—he didn't feed from me; he saved my life, actually. We were attacked by other demons and I was bleeding out, and he just closed the wounds. He… he isn't, uhm… yeah."

Kevin's posture changed, and his smile became relieved—sheepish even. "Well, shit. I'm sorry for assuming, Yn; it's just that a lot of people end up here because they're in unhealthy relationships, and I saw the marks on your neck and just assumed the worst." He cupped the back of his neck. "This must have been really confusing for you. Sorry about that."

Okay, now that made a lot more sense. Your adrenaline was slowly teetering out and the tension left your shoulders. "No, please, that's honestly really nice that you would help victims like this. It did give me a little scare, but… yeah no, this wasn't Changmin's doing."

"That eases my mind a lot," he chuckled. Then he turned and nodded to the auntie behind the reception desk. You watched as she disappeared out the doors of the inn. "She's just gonna let Sangyeon know that everything's good."

"I thought you said you and Changmin go way back…?" Did they not trust him?

Kevin leaned back in his armchair. "We do. It's just protocol, you know? Whether or not we know them, it doesn't matter."

That was good for victims, you thought. Though, you couldn't imagine what they were really discussing with Changmin then… "So Changmin…"

"Sangyeon, Jacob, and Haknyeon would have taken care of him if I told them he was harming you," he replied, lips pressed together. "They really are talking about how you both ended up here though—that, and plans for the morning."

It was like he could read your mind.

A lot had happened just now, and you were still reeling from the fact that you didn't need to prepare to run. Though, you were still hyperaware of Clyde's warmth in your pocket.

Kevin noticed your far-off expression. He leaned forward onto his knees, that kind smile of his curling onto his face and making you feel some sort of woozy. "I know it's probably been a lot for you. Do you have any questions for me?"

He was so different from Changmin. While with the demon getting information was like pulling teeth, here was Kevin offering you information. They were polar opposites, really. You wondered what it might have been like if Kevin had been the one to take you on this quest instead—your mind shuttered. What a strange thought. Changmin might have been a pain in your ass in the beginning (and still now), but… it wasn't like he hadn't protected you. You didn't know.

"I guess," you started, "what's gonna happen now?"

He thought about it for a moment. "Well, uhm, I think we're both gonna find out once Changmin gets back. See what they've all decided on. But for sure, you and he will be able to shack up here for the night."

You gave a slow nod. "Is Sangyeon the pack alpha? Kind of a stupid question—"

"It's not a stupid question at all," Kevin said. "But yes, he's the pack alpha. You can just consider him as a community leader, essentially."

"And you're all wolf shifters?"

A nod, then he paused, tilting his head. "Yes, but Jacob's not a wolf shifter; he's an angel."

Your eyebrows flew up. Everything was suddenly making a lot more sense. "An angel? So he and Changmin aren't, like, mortal enemies or anything?" You hadn't noticed any wings on him…

Kevin laughed. "Oh, you're cute. No, thankfully they are not mortal enemies. Jacob's too nice to have enemies."

"Even someone like Changmin?" You jested.

"Even someone like Changmin," he said, humoring you. "Speaking of the demon, you two aren't…?"

You sucked in a breath. "Definitely not. We're not together or anything. It's a long story, but our meeting and traveling together is just because of a common goal." You couldn't tell why the thought of you and Changmin being an item made your heart cartwheel. Perhaps it was simply the anxiety of being thought of as Changmin's significant other that made you want to jump to correct that assumption. Yes, that was it.

Kevin bit his bottom lip like he was trying to hide a smile. "Ah, I see. That's good to know."

"And why's that?" You asked.

You could have sworn if he was in wolf form, his ears would have been tucked against his head. "Nothing!" He insisted. "It would just be a shame to not take a chance when it's presented, you know?"

You weren't quite sure what he meant by that, but for some reason, you were eager to find out.

It was late still when Changmin knocked on your open door, lingering on the threshold. You had just stepped out of the shower in the private en suite your accommodations had, a towel settled upon your shoulders to act as a barrier between your wet hair and dry clothes. He didn't look any worse for wear—then again, he never did.

"Everything okay with Kevin?" He asked, clearing his throat. You felt his eyes on you, scanning your body as if searching for any signs out of the ordinary.

You were searching for your phone charger in your bag. "Yeah, it was good. What—what happened with you?" You asked and lifted your eyes to meet his as you fondled the cord between your fingers.

He stuck his tongue in his cheek. "Well," he drawled, "Sangyeon offered to send a small group out to scout for any signs of our pursuers from today. In the meantime, we're invited to stay here to recuperate for a couple days. If not, then they'll restock our supplies and help us out of here."

"I'm guessing you already made a decision." You paused when you realized there weren't any outlets in this room. Anywhere. A curse fell from your lips and you dumped your cord and dead cell phone into your bag.

"I figured you could use the rest," he said.

Your head whipped upward.

He arched a brow at you. "If that's alright with you."

Was he really asking you? No buts, no ifs, no snark? "Yeah, that's fine with me."

"Maybe a couple days here will be good for your frail, human body anyway."

There it is. You rolled your eyes so far back, you swore you saw your brain waving at you. "And maybe some fake demon sleep will make you less grouchy."

You thought he smiled. It could have been a trick of the light or sleep deprivation. "Whatever."

Just when it seemed like he was about to turn and leave, he stopped. "Kevin's taken a liking to you."

You stilled, attention piqued. "Really? How could you tell?"

Changmin gauged your reaction, and again, you couldn't quite tell what he was thinking. "You need to sleep."

"Wait, you're just gonna ignore my—and he's gone." You huffed and collapsed onto the bed. It was awfully comfortable.

Leave it up to Changmin to leave you high and dry like that.

You rolled over the surface of the bed to close your door. Quietly, you went around the room to close the knobs of the lanterns to put out the lights like Kevin had showed you earlier. The only light now came from outside the window, the campfire and lanterns in the pack center streaming through the shutters to create an elongated stripe pattern along the walls and floors.

You climbed into bed—it was a strange, but welcomed feeling.

Only a couple days without a bed, yet it felt like years had passed. You could only hope you didn't wake up to a demon at your throat this time.

#7—THE ONLY ONE.

WOLVES BEAT EVEN THE SUN from her slumber, you came to find out. The next morning, you rolled out of bed to hear the sound of muffled voices outside your window. Your body ached in places you didn't even think they could ache, and you stretched your arms up over your head as you opened the shutters.

Just a little off from your window stood a small gathering of creatures, both in human and wolf forms. You recognized Kevin as one of the human ones among them. It was the noise of your open shutter that had him turning his head up toward your window. He saw you there, and a smile blossomed on his face, bright and easy. He wasn't wearing a shirt again, as was the other man standing beside him. The other two in their group were wolves.

Kevin waved at you, catching the attention of the others with him. The man beside him beamed and waved, too.

You chuckled to yourself and returned the gesture.

Kevin beckoned you down with his hand.

You searched the window sill for the latch, muttering in triumph when you managed to notch it open.

He had walked over to stand directly below your window by the time you stuck your head out. "Good morning!" He chirped. "Good sleep?"

"Good morning, and so far I think so," you mused, unconsciously smoothing down your hair. You hadn't even checked the state of your bed head. Yikes.

"There's breakfast in the pack house if you'd like," he offered. "I can walk you over?"

You leaned your cheek against your fist. "Sounds great. Give me some time to get ready."

"Take your time!"

You locked the window back up, dropped the shutters, and hurried to get changed. It occurred to you, as you were getting yourself prepped and primed to face another day in a new world, that you hadn't felt so giddy in awhile. And about a boy nonetheless. The skip in your step was crazy to you, and—did you even have anything nice to wear?

You just managed to yank one of the nicer of your graphic tees over your head when you heard a knock at the door.

"Just a second!" You called, carding your fingers through your hair and separating into three so you could braid it out of your face.

You ripped the door open. "Hi."

Changmin stood on the other side looking slightly refreshed with his dark hair damp and plastered over his forehead. His eyes narrowed slightly at your lightened countenance, the way you actually cared about how you were doing your hair, the… everything. He sent you a look. "Breakfast is in the pack house, but I have a feeling you already knew that."

"Yeah, I was just headed down, actually." You stepped out into the hallway with him, closing your bedroom door behind you. Clyde sat in your pocket, replacing where your phone would have been stashed had it any use.

He cocked his head to the side. "You seem a lot more…" He made a gesture with one of his hands. "Alive."

"Well, considering I don't have magic regeneration—"

"Forget I said anything," he said, shaking his bangs from his eyes and beginning to walk down the corridor toward his room. "Go get sustenance, Yn."

A small smile tugged at the corners of your lips. You watched him disappear into his room before you made your way to the stairs.

Kevin was waiting for you in the lobby, perking up when you appeared on the stairway landing and made your descent. He took a couple steps to meet you in the middle, and you noticed that he had found a shirt to put on. Damn. "Hope you like waffles," he said as the two of you fell into step beside each other to head out of the inn.

"Love 'em."

It seemed that the entirety of Moonstone Creak was awake, even at such an early hour. The sun had yet to even clamber up above the treetops, leaving the sky a soft mesh of purple and orange. The air was as fresh as it had been yesterday, cool and pure, washing your lungs and waking you up some more.

"Is everyone awake so early?" You asked him, inhaling as much of the peace as you could.

Kevin nodded. "Pretty much, unless you're just coming back from a night watch. We usually encourage the pups to come out and exercise with us."

"Us?"

"The pack's primary watch," he clarified. "You probably saw me talking to a few of them earlier."

"Ah," you hummed. "That's nice though. You're all such a lovely community… It's refreshing."

His eyes twinkled as he smiled at you. "Thank you. I like to think we're a really big family."

You could see as much. By the way Kevin greeted all of his fellow pack members, a part of you wondered what it might have been like to grow up somewhere like this instead of always chasing after safety and security.

You and your sister had always got by somehow, but it had never been like this. With your parents gone so early in both of your lives, you only really had each other to rely on, besides the occasional aunt and uncle who took turns caring for the both of you until your sister turned 18. And now with your sister gone?

For some reason, it felt like you were still taking care of her in death. But perhaps that was the cost of seeking closure.

You weren't sure what you were expecting when they said pack house, but what you saw was about what it sounded like it was going to be. It was similar to the inn and many of the buildings around the area with its log cabin likeness, but this one was much, much larger. You could hear the squeals of children from out here, and there were smaller wolves chasing each other's tails around the wraparound porch. A few stopped to sit and cock their heads at you as you passed, their tails tick-tocking behind them.

It was strange seeing wolves carry around infants and toddlers in their hulking jaws, too, and Kevin chuckled when you almost stopped in your tracks. "It's no harm to them, don't worry."

"Yeah," you laughed nervously, fingering the pendant at your sternum. "It'll take some getting used to. Are you born as a wolf or as a human?" You asked him as the two of you stepped up the front steps of the porch and walked through the entryway.

"Depends—woah, hey guys. Careful!" Kevin clicked his tongue as he caught and lifted one of the younger boys off his legs just before he accidentally knocked over a table holding a vase of flowers.

The kid and his friend giggled as Kevin put him down away from the table. "Sorry Kevin!" And they were gone, out the front door.

He shared a smile with you, cupping the back of his neck. "Where was I?" He gestured to your right down a hallway; you could smell the sweetness and buttery goodness of breakfast. "Oh, right. It depends: since wolves and humans are mammals, giving birth is a little easier than other non-mammal shifters."

"Non-mammal shifters?" Your eyebrows shot up. "What other shifters exist?"

"Any you can think of, to be honest," he said. "All pups learn about their own growth and development though, especially since learning to shift and stay in touch with both their animal and human sides is so integral. It would probably be better if I connected you with someone who identifies as female to talk about birth specifically though," he admitted.

The kitchen was painted a pale shade of yellow that reflected the golden rays of sun and made the whole room much warmer and brighter. There was a mishmash of wolves and humans milling about the central island where a buffet-style breakfast was being served. The variety of food before you was enough to make even—as you liked to think—Changmin's mouth water. (He didn't need to eat, your ass. You saw the blueberry pancakes on the far end and wondered if he had some yet.)

Kevin passed you one of the plates stacked at the end before grabbing one for himself. "Lily, thank you for breakfast!"

Lily, you identified, was the woman leaning against the sink with a pale blue apron tied around her waist and baby bump. "You're welcome! Haknyeonie helped out, too."

Haknyeon's blond head poked in from where he was partly hiding in the butler's pantry, his cheeks stuffed with food. "Hm?"

You laughed to yourself as you started off by transferring a waffle to your plate. "Yes, thank you so much for breakfast. It looks delicious."

"Oh, no need for that," Lily beamed as she came over to the island across from you and put more food onto your plate. "Take more, please. We have so much to go around."

"Oh," you blinked, watching Kevin start to pile things onto his own plate. "It's so much; I don't want to take more than I can finish—"

"I'll help you finish," Kevin offered, shoving a strawberry into his mouth. "I'm sorry if it seems like we're pressuring you, though. I guess we're all just used to making sure the other is fed around here."

You could melt like a slab of butter between two warm hotcakes. "Thank you—I appreciate the thought."

Kevin ruffled your hair as the two of you continued around your tour of the island. "Of course."

From the entryway you had just come in, Sangyeon arrived whistling an offhanded tune under his breath. "Good morning, everyone!"

"Good morning!" Chorused around the kitchen at differing intervals as everyone greeted their pack alpha.

Sangyeon beelined around the island and over to Lily, the two of them exchanging fond touches and a warm kiss in greeting. "Morning, love."

"Good morning," Lily said. "Eaten yet?"

The dots connected in your head and you nudged Kevin as the two of you finished up at the island. "Lily and Sangyeon—?"

"Yeah, she's our alpha female," Kevin confirmed. "Six months pregnant. They celebrated nuptials about a year ago."

"Ah." You didn't mean to stare, but they were such a beautiful couple. Though you thought Sangyeon's smile was warm, it was nothing compared to the one he saved just for his partner.

He must have felt your eyes on him, and he lifted his gaze to yours while he held one of Lily's hands. "Yn, sleep well?"

Your eyes widened. "Oh, uh, yes. Yes, thank you."

"All of your accommodations are to your satisfaction, I hope?"

"More than satisfied," you stammered with a sheepish smile; he was talking to you, right? Everything was way beyond what you had been living with for the past couple of days. A demon-infested motel or this? Well, no competition there. You could still feel the impression of Changmin's passenger seat in your back.

Sangyeon nodded. "Good, I'm glad to hear that. I was hoping to speak with you and Changmin after breakfast about your situation. It'll be with myself and my closest advisors, plus the two of you."

"Yes, of course," you said. "Does Changmin already know?"

"I'll have someone run and let him know."

You and Kevin were dismissed to go forth with breakfast. The two of you settled in a room next door to the kitchen fitted with a long dining table that reminded you of a cartoon rich people banquet table. You sat adjacent to each other, Kevin at the head, and you with the seat to his left.

You smeared butter over the slots of your waffle. "Do I have to worry about what Sangyeon's gonna talk about at the meeting?"

Kevin shoved his bite into his cheek. "To my knowledge, no, but if you're worried, Sangyeon's advisors are a pretty cool crowd."

"Oh yeah?" You asked.

His lips turned up as he chewed. "Mhm," he hummed before swallowing, "I should know since I'm one of them."

Sangyeon had an office deep within the first floor of the pack house. It was tucked away somewhere between the living room in the back and the door down to the wine cellar. (Kevin joked that the first pack alpha had planned the layout of the first floor deliberately.)

Following your hearty breakfast, you found yourself seated in one of the armchairs in the leader's office chambers, amongst Changmin (in the chair next to you) and the other members of the so-called inner circle. Kevin lingered nearby, leaning against the office's hearth with his arms and ankles crossed idly. It seemed that the advising board included not just Kevin, but also Jacob, Lily, and someone named Juyeon. You learned that he was out on night guard when you came in last night, so you weren't able to properly meet him until now.

Sangyeon stood next to the office chair seated behind the grand, mahogany desk; Lily was automatically given the chair because of her pregnancy, and because she'd been working all morning. "Concerning the white sedan you said was trailing after you two yesterday—" he said, "—none of our scouts could follow a solid scent past the freeway entrance. It was interesting, actually."

Changmin leaned forward onto his forearms. "How so?" He asked, eyebrows creasing.

Sangyeon nodded to Juyeon, who filled in, "Well, we couldn't figure out what their scent is."

"How is that even possible?"

You blinked, brain whirring into overdrive. There was something you were missing yet again. What was the context here?

Kevin stepped over to your side and murmured to you, "We can usually pick apart scents to identify the layers, so this is why it's… concerning."

"Ah," you nodded. "Thanks."

"It was distinct for sure," Juyeon supplied with a vague gesture of his hands, "but it was nearly impossible to tell what species they were. It was easy enough picking apart the entity from the car smells—" Exhaust fumes, metal, seats, you assumed, "—and we could follow the smell as far as the entrance to the highway you guys came from, but…" He shook his head. "No-go. In all my years, I've never come across anything like it."

The helplessness that settled into the grooves of the room made you squirm, and your fingers fondled the red pendant at your collar again. Here was a space of the all-powerful, and yet, something as simple as a scent was throwing them all for a loop. You couldn't begin to wrap your head around the implications, because, well—you didn't know the implications.

(Dark. You were always sitting in the dark.)

Changmin passed you a glance, and you couldn't tell what he was thinking, as usual. "There has to be a way to somehow analyze it. Could we consult a witch?"

"I've already called an old friend," said Lily. "They're on their way over presently."

"Could I see the pendant?" Jacob's voice carried out into the room. Though he himself was soft-spoken, one could not mistake his volume. Everyone's attention cut over to you, and you wanted to be swallowed up by the earth beneath your feet. "If that's okay," he added. "It feels familiar."

"Feels?" You echoed, gripping the stone in your hand. The chain dug into the flesh of your neck as you anxiously yanked on it.

Changmin's eyes darted from the stone to you. "What do you think?"

"What do I think?" You were overwhelmed; that was what you thought. You fisted it in your hand, suddenly reluctant to part with the thing that had caused you so much trouble as of late. You felt… an uncanny urge to keep it in your possession. "Uhm… you can see it, but I won't take it off."

Your devilish counterpart narrowed his eyes slightly, cocked his head to the side, at your behavior. He didn't say anything though, as if this truly was just all your decision. Perhaps this was because he knew that you weren't exactly buddies with these people yet. In retrospect, they were still strangers, and thus, potential threats to you.

Jacob took easy strides over to you from where he was standing by the desk. He passed you a reassuring smile as he knelt in front of you, close enough that you could see the eyelashes brush his cheeks. There was something warm radiating from him, and you swore you saw a flash of gold in his eyes.

Angel, right.

He rose up on his knees, holding out his hand, but not touching you. "May I?"

You pinched the part of the pendant attached to the chain and stuck it out toward him.

Jacob's eyebrows knitted together as he touched the pendant with only the tips of his fingers. You held your breath throughout the entirety of his assessment. When he finally leaned back onto his haunches, you blinked away whatever angelic warmth still lingered. "Juyeon, come smell the pendant."

Your eyes widened. "Uhm—"

"Hold on, what?"

"Wait, Jacob."

The latter two responses came from Changmin and Kevin, respectively, the two startling at Jacob's request.

There was a swift exchange of glances between everyone else and the alpha wolves in the room.

Lily said, "Yn?"

"Why are we sniffing the pendant now?" You asked, finding your voice.

Jacob looked up innocently. "Sorry, I probably should have explained myself. I think it might smell like the scent Juyeon was trying to track."

Something in the room shifted. You glanced down at the pendant in your grip and the questions in your head accumulated and accumulated and accumulated. What in Hell did you get me into, Sena?

"Okay," you said, "you can… smell the pendant."

You weren't sure why he couldn't smell it from where he was, but he took a couple steps over to you and replaced Jacob's position. Changmin's hand appeared on the arm of your chair as he leaned forward slightly.

Juyeon took a cautionary sniff, and his eyes widened. "That's it. It's—it was slightly different, but similar enough where it has to be the same entity." He looked up at you. "Is this the only one of its kind?"

You met Changmin's eyes.

He looked away first. "No."

Your gaze became earnest in his direction, and if you could, you would burn twin holes in the side of his head like a snakebite. More shit he hadn't told you. Were you surprised?

No? What did he mean no?

"We need to talk," you forced out of gritted teeth, gripping onto the arm of his chair now.

He passed you a glance. Later.

"Well, we can only really assume that the person following you was most likely after the pendant," Jacob said plainly as he stood from the ground and dusted off his pants. "But now that we know the origin of the scent, per se, it'll make the hunt a little easier."

Sangyeon gave a bob of his head. "Kevin, you're leading the search party for the day."

Kevin's head perked up, hand on the back of your chair. "But—"

A single look from his leader made his mouth snap closed.

"Yes, sir," Kevin murmured with a shallow nod of acknowledgement. He gave the back of your chair a small pat, then departed without another word from the office. You thought you could feel his presence leave your side, from the room. All of this feeling… was this how the supernatural operated? Was this what a sixth sense entailed all along?

"Juyeon—" the man in question raised his head, "—go find where Haknyeon and Eric are." Sangyeon scratched his temple with a sigh that sounded suspiciously like exasperation. "Grab them and round up the pups."

Juyeon brightened. "Are we taking them down to the creak?"

Lily nodded her approval. "Ooh, nice idea. Yn and Changmin, you're both free to join us. It's lovely down there."

You forced your hand to fall away from the pendant, but not before tucking it back beneath the collar of your shirt. It felt too exposed out here, sitting on your sternum for all to see. You nodded though, trying for a small smile. "Sure, sounds nice."

Sangyeon patted the desktop. "Excellent! The two of you can continue to make yourselves at home."

Though this was a physical conclusion to the meeting, your stomach continued to sit uncomfortably. This conversation should not have been over so quickly… right? Was there not more to discuss? Perhaps not now then. Maybe it was better to take your time letting this all sink in.

"Ah, before the two of you go join the little ones," Jacob cut in. He shot Changmin a pointed look. "You owe me something."

Changmin roughed a hand through his bangs, but you could have sworn his lips curled up with a smile. "Aish… your memory."

"It never fails me when I need it."

You glanced between the two; Changmin did owe you yet another explanation, but if there was something these two planned to settle… "What? What is it this time?"

Jacob grinned, and you definitely hadn't been hallucinating when you saw flickers of gold in his irises. "He owes me a sparring match."

a/n: i am clasping my hands in prayer for a reblog, comment, or ask. take a moment to grab a snack, drink some water, and head over to the second part! thanks for reading

read part two here (if it's not linked yet, refresh and it'll be at the top)

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beamtori · 5 months

Text

𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐜𝐲

demon (in human form)!ji changmin x afab!reader

it's a silly thing that brings you both to intimacy, but the intimacy is never silly.

3.0k words, smut (minors dni), incredibly soft sex, talks abt sex/dicks lol (if u can't talk abt it, then don't do it!), unprotected sex (wrap it before u tap it bro), penetrative sex, fingering, low-key body worship (f.receiving), so much kissing, pet name (sweetheart), mentions of a broken wrist and scars?

a/n: this is an extension to my fic night terrors on my main! there are a couple refs from the fic, but the established dynamic is a huge turnaround for me in terms of writing for changmin if u haven't read night terrors yet LMAO anyways, for me and @mosviqu ily bar!! <3

CHANGMIN HAD GROWN USED TO your random questions of curiosity. There was, after all, so much you didn't know about his world, and for the most part, he was perfectly fine divulging information to you and being honest. He cared about you, after all. Loved you, even. It was just what he felt around and about and for you.

“How do demons have sex?”

He nearly snorted water through his nose.

You glanced over at him innocently from where you were perched on the hotel bed, your phone connected to its charger discarded on the nightstand.

He cleared his throat, capping the water bottle and setting it aside so he wouldn't choke again. “Sorry?” He sputtered, thumping his fist against his chest.

Your eyelashes fluttered and you replied airily, “Do you have sex the way humans do? Like… vaginal penetration or…? Am I making sense? Do you even have a—”

“Yn, I have a dick,” he cut in, then made a face. “Why are we having this conversation again?”

The two of you were holed up in a hotel several hours’ ride from Moonstone Creek. You were currently on your way to meet one of Changmin's clients about a missing lucky witch's cauldron. Instead of shacking up at a motel, you insisted on staying at a nicer hotel for once. Screw saving money this time; your ass deserved a break after sitting in his car for however long. Maybe you should invest in a butt pad…

You shrugged, shifting your position so you sat at the foot of the bed with your feet dangling over the edge. You held your dominant wrist with the other hand—a month had passed since it had been shattered, and though almost completely healed, it was still a little tender. “I was just thinking,” you said. “Is it like a human d—”

“It's a penis, Yn,” he deadpanned. “You've seen one, right?”

Your skin warmed. “Of course, I have,” you sputtered. “I was just curious about your—” You stopped yourself. “That sounds wrong.”

Changmin arched a brow at you, braiding his arms over his chest as he leaned against the table across from you. “Supernatural creatures do have needs, too, you know. Sex isn't just a human thing.”

“I know that,” you shot back. Sex definitely wasn't exclusive to humans. “When was the last time you had sex?"

“I don't understand where this is coming from.”

“Are you a virgin?”

A laugh bubbled out of his mouth. “I think it's impossible for a demon to be a virgin in any sense,” he said, head tilted to the side, tongue tracing his slight smile. It was funny for him to think about, really.

His eyes fixated on you again. “Are you a virgin?”

“Me? No.” Even when you were working your ass off for your accounting degree, you managed to find time to socialize with somebody. It hadn't been that special, really, but the guy had been decent and not an asshole. By your limited scope, that was as okay a time as any.

The room descended into silence.

You could tell he was thinking about something with the crease between his brows and the muscle in his jaw twitching. You didn't know what it was, but you could read that much.

“So why haven't we had sex yet?” was the question that popped out of your mouth next. It wasn't necessarily directed for him to answer; it was more so a… thinking-aloud situation… right…

But by the surprise that flickered across his face, he was going to answer it anyway. “I—I don't know. I guess…” He scratched the side of his head. “I never really thought about it.”

“Oh.”

You could see the regret as soon as he said it.

He brushed a hand through his hair, stepping over to you and kneeling in front of you. His eyes fluttered closed for a second before opening again. “I didn't mean it—like that. I just mean that so much has happened that it's the last thing on my mind. I didn't want it to come off like I only wanted that from you.”

“I know you don't,” you said, leaning onto your knees to lower your face slightly toward his. “But we both have needs, don't we?”

“Are you saying you're in the mood?” He asked.

“I mean—I was looking out for both of us.” You sat up again, leaning back onto your hands, putting more emphasis on your nondominant one. He followed you up and stood between your legs, knee pressing down onto the mattress to lean over you and collect you in his arms.

You both tumbled onto the sheets, your face pressed to his chest and his chin tucked over your head, legs tangled together. “I don't know,” you muttered, “it's been a good month, and I guess I was just…” Insecure. “I’m being ridiculous though,” you laughed the thought away, “every couple goes at their own pace.”

His fingers grasped your chin and pulled your eyes to meet his. The eye contact was strangely intimate with him as it always was. “Yn,” he said lowly, “you’re not being ridiculous.”

He rolled his body over yours, arms bracketed around your head with your noses a breath apart. “Can I kiss you?” He asked in earnest, searching your face.

You nodded, eyes wide. “Yes.”

His hand curled around the back of your head as he lowered his mouth over yours. Your nose slotted beside his, and you raised your upper body to hold onto him and press yourself all the more close. You sighed, his tongue pressing into your mouth to deepen the kiss.

There had been a few other times you'd kissed before. There was no rush with this one. He took his sweet time with you, kissing you languidly, devouring you whole. His limbs wrapped around you like a python so you were unable to leave his grasp—as if you wanted to.

When you broke apart, you were flushed and his breathing was heavy. He brushed the hair from your face, your eyes glazed as you stared up at him. “I've never been intimate with someone I care so much about,” he confessed, his voice gravelly from the kiss. Your lips parted for his thumb as he dragged it over your bottom lip.

“Me neither,” you told him. You reached up to run your hand through his hair. “Is it scary?”

“The way I feel about you?” He wrestled down a swallow. “I'm terrified.” Terrified to break you, to lose you, to hurt you. Everything in between.

It wasn't always that you were given the privilege of seeing him so open and vulnerable. He had slowly become better around you, especially around you, but there was still a few things you had to get past. It was okay though; he just needed time. That much you understood. This was new to you, too.

“I'm nervous,” you admitted quietly, “but I trust you.”

He leaned down and pressed a kiss to your mouth. Your eyes fluttered closed. “I trust you, too.”

Changmin brought his lips to the corner of your mouth, then to the underside of your jaw. Your fingers buried themselves into his hair as he trailed his lips down the column of your neck as if to taste every inch of your skin.

Your heart palpitated in your chest and you held him close, neck craned to encourage him. A moan slipped from your mouth when you felt his teeth graze your pulse. The rough pad of his tongue swiped over the mark he left.

It was strange to think of how trust and love worked. It would be so easy to rip your throat out, but instead, he was here kissing you.

His fingers danced along the bottom hem of your shirt in silent question, and you guided his hand beneath the fabric and along your bare skin. You shuddered as his fingers trailed up your side and reached the edge of your bra.

He raised his lips up to meet yours again, eyes half lidded.

Your shirt came up and over your head, bra clasp unsnapping behind your body until your top half was bare before him.

And he looked at you under him with an expression you couldn't discern immediately. It was that thing he always did, the look he had in his eyes when he stared at you, but this time felt slightly different.

You shied away into yourself, one of your arms coming to lie across your chest. “What?” You let out a small laugh.

He swallowed, meeting your eyes. “I…” Changmin took your arm and brought your once-shattered wrist to his mouth. He pinned your arm above your head then, so he could see you. “Nothing, I just—you’re beautiful.”

Your resolve softened. “You can touch me.”

He kissed you again then, softly, one palm enclosing around your left breast. You shivered, your heart throwing itself up against its confines so it might reach the hand it wanted to be held in.

Changmin rolled one perked nipple between his fingers and you arched your chest up into his hand.

“I never say it—” He said, tongue swiping over your lips again for any and every taste of you, “—as much as you deserve to hear it.”

His lips met your pulse again, mouth trailing down your clavicle, to the pendant resting on your sternum. The pulsing of the scarlet mirrored your own racing heartbeat and gave your state of mind clean away. Every touch of his lips, lap of his tongue, nip of his teeth along your skin felt like he was tracing your outline and committing you to memory. Every inch of you, loved and worshiped and acknowledged. Not his to own, but his to cherish.

Changmin's shirt came off next, exposing a toned upper body marked in faded white scars here and there. Oh, to kiss each mark upon his body—an endeavor for another time. The twin to your necklace swung over you from around his neck as he returned himself to your embrace.

“You're beautiful, too—d’you know that?” You murmured to him between the breaths between kisses.

“Only if you show me.”

You smiled against his mouth. “Deal.”

You felt his mouth curl up in a similar gesture, his arms wrapping around your waist and pressing the length of his body against yours. His weight was a comfort, kissing him was a dream.

Changmin tugged the waistline of your pants down, fingers hooking in the elastic of your underwear, then pausing. “This okay, sweetheart?”

You nodded, and you helped kick your bottoms off and away. He was swift to follow suit, the belt of his buckle clinking together as he slid it off, then his jeans, and boxers. You could see the outline of his cock strain through the fabric before his aching, reddened length slapped against his lower stomach.

“Would it ruin the mood if I said that probably isn't what your demon form dick looks like?” You asked cheekily as he clambered back over you.

Changmin rolled his eyes. “I'm tryna be romantic and all you can talk about is—mmmph!”

You silenced him by dragging his mouth back down to yours. He melted into you, weaving his hand between your bodies so he could drag his fingers through your lower lips. You jolted at the feeling, your hips twitching in his direction in a silent plea.

He groaned low into your mouth, withdrawing as he circled his fingers through your arousal. “Is this all for me?” He asked, dipping a finger into your cunt. His thumb drew dizzying circles into your clit, and you swore you saw stars.

“Yeah, 's all for you,” you exhaled, earning you a searing kiss as he swallowed those words.

You pushed your hips against his hand, a pair of his thick fingers filling you up and curling against the sweet, gummy spot of your inner walls. It was as if he knew exactly where to find it, and knew exactly how much pressure would make you rocket up toward white-hot bliss.

You whimpered against his mouth as the tension in the pit of your stomach wound up tightly. “Changmin—”

“You close, sweetheart? Wanna see how pretty you look when you come.”

His thumb branded your clit with his fingerprint and drove you to insanity. Blood rushed in your ears, head spinning as he helped you over that crest. You cried out as you crashed and the steady pumping of his fingers coaxed you through it. Your fingers dug into the muscle of his shoulders, grounding you as your legs shook and toes curled.

His fingers maintained their steady pace as you came down from the high. You imagined you looked like something of a hot mess beneath him, but when your eyes fluttered up to meet his, you were struck by the tenderness in those dark irises.

When you could breathe evenly, he withdrew his fingers and collected your come to thumb over the pearl beaded at the tip of his cock. “Are you—was that okay?” He asked, his free hand thumbing your cheek. You saw his jaw twitch as he pumped his cock with his other hand, slickened with both of your arousal.

You gave a breathy laugh, and he nearly stopped at the sight of your smile. “Okay? That was—that was more than okay,” you said. “Ji Changmin, come here. Let me kiss you.”

It was something in the way he crushed his mouth against yours this time, one hand cradling the side of your face like you were all he ever wanted—the other coming up to grasp your side—that had your stomach doing flips. And if actions spoke louder than words, you wanted to believe that he was yelling them at you now. If he couldn't bring himself to scream them from the top of a building, this would be enough.

Your nose gently bumped against his. “Can I do something for you?”

He replied lowly between kisses, “Another time. Just… let me do this for you. It'll be enough for me.”

You melted in his hold, as if he didn't make you a fuzzy-chested, dizzy-headed mess all the time.

You felt him nudge your opening, and you locked your hands around his neck. Slowly, you felt a delicious stretch as he pushed into you. Changmin groaned into your neck, the sound making you arch yourself into him further. His voice alone sent you careening toward your own climax, it was so sensual.

Once he sat in you to the hilt, hips locked against hips, he lingered to give you a moment to get comfortable. The girth of him filled you up delectably, the pain only the undertone to pleasure.

He raised his head out of the crook of your neck. “Sweetheart?”

“Yeah—” you nodded, “—I’m good.”

He returned the gesture, biting his lip, then swooping down to kiss you again. “You're doing so well for me,” he murmured. “So warm, so tight. Fuck, you feel divine.”

He pulled himself out slightly, then gave an experimental thrust of his hips. Your hold tightened around him, a moan slipping from your lips. He held you as he continued this motion, a steady and strong rocking of his hips against yours, cock dragging along your walls in confident strokes.

He tucked his head back into your shoulder, lips pressing open mouthed kisses to your hot skin. You could feel the dampness between your thighs dribble down your legs, and you were gradually clambering back onto that hill with your stomach twisting in pleasure.

His labored breathing filled your ear, followed by his mouth—marks lovingly pressed into your flesh and whispered in your ear. You locked a leg around his slim waist and met his thrusts, the pacing quickening slightly as you both began approaching your highs.

Your voice came out choked and desperate. “Changmin, I'm…”

“Yeah, sweetheart; I got you.” Changmin pushed himself back up to hover over you for the last few thrusts, his lips pressed together tightly and sweat dripping down the slope of his nose. He slipped a hand between your bodies again and worked at your nub—and it was all you needed to be pushed over that edge again.

You cried out his name, fingernails burying themselves in his shoulders. You clenched down hard around him, breathing hard and ragged.

You thought you heard him groan out your name as his hips stilled and he came. You exhaled heavily, his body wrapping around yours again while you both caught your breath and descended from bliss.

He left a kiss just below your ear and you cupped the back of his head and shoulders to your body. “Fuck me,” he muttered, rolling your bodies to the side, legs sticky and tangled together.

“Didn't I just do that?” You mused.

He chuckled, moving his head to bump his nose against yours. “Yeah, guess so.” Changmin gazed at you then, eyes searching and searching and searching. You never asked what he was looking for; you always figured he'd one day be able to tell you.

He licked his lips and a crease formed between his brows. “Yn… Yn, I…”

The voice inside his throat remained trapped, the words on his tongue froze. You looked up at him, glassy-eyed and patient, the tilt of your lips so sweet and terribly beautiful. He'd never been at such a loss for words.

You moved forward to press a kiss to his mouth. “I know,” you said. Even if he couldn't say it yet, you always knew.

He swallowed, a moment of silence falling between the two of you. His heart careened against his chest, and he was sure if the amulet he wore now had his blood running through it, the damn thing would pound away like a galloping horse.

He wondered how he got so lucky.

But though he couldn't express it in words, he would always find a different way to reassure you that he felt the same. Changmin leaned forward and wordlessly captured your lips again, rolling you onto your back and pressing every last word he hadn't the guts to say into this searing kiss.

I love you, I adore you. Thank you. Be mine, in life and death; mortally and immortally. Every promise, he would strive to keep.

a/n: at one point, yes, i will write abt sex in his demon form LMAO what did u expect from me 🤣 anyways, this turned out to be around the length of an actual chapter of nt haha

m.list

#the boyz x reader #the boyz smut #ji changmin x reader #changmin x reader #ji changmin smut #the boyz imagines #the boyz scenarios #the boyz fanfic #the boyz drabbles #the boyz oneshot #ji changmin oneshot #ji changmin imagines #ji changmin scenarios #ji changmin drabbles

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cupidjyu · 11 months

Text

caught in the loving act?!

(98 line) when he hears you talking about them fondly

genre: flirting, shy juyeon, everyone is flirty juyeon's just a big loser. kissing, hugs, smiles all around! notes: i don't have much to say, just know that i am literally about to fall asleep ^.^ word count: 1.3k

juyeon

You were calling your friend on the phone in another room. You were so immersed in your conversation, that you didn’t hear his knocking on the door.

He sighed at the lack of response. He wanted to ask you what show you wanted to watch later for your scheduled movie date night. But with no answer, he decided to open the door. But, he froze when he heard his name.

“Isn’t he the cutest? People always say he looks intimidating, but they don’t actually know just how cute he is,” You rambled on and on, your legs kicking on the bed excitedly. “Like how clingy he is? He’s really clingy. And also pouty, especially when you tease him.” You let out a sigh. “I love him so much.”

Then, you looked at the time.

“I have to go,” You giggled. “i have a date with the love of my life.” You hung up and stood up. When you turned around, you were met with the sight of him staring at you shyly. He couldn’t even look you in the eye, his cheeks flushing. “Hi, Juyeonie?” You titled your head. Then your lips curled up mischievously. “Did you hear me talking about you?” You eyed him coyly.

He blushed even more.

“Yes…” He mumbled, looking down at the floor as he shifted. He let out a sudden whine. “But did you have to expose my habits just like that? It’s– embarrassing.”

You laughed and nodded, pulling him into a hug as you looked up at him. “Of course. I think your habits are the cutest.”

“But only you’re supposed to know about them.” Juyeon huffed with a pout. “Now the whole world knows.”

“Don’t be sulky.” You poked his cheek. “You’re too cute when you’re sulky.”

He whined again, making your eyes soften. “But I only want you to see this side of me.” He frowned, eyebrows furrowing.

“Okay, okay, fine.” You soothed him, brushing his hair out of his face in which he melted into your touch. “My big baby. Only for me.”

“That’s right.” He crossed his arms before pulling you into a heart-stopping kiss.

kevin

He wandered the house, tidying up random things and letting out occasional sighs of boredom. But suddenly, he heard your voice from across the apartment shouting. He was definitely worried as he rushed over to check on you. The door was slightly ajar and he could see that you were video-calling your friend.

He gasped, his cheeks immediately feeling hot. You were holding one of his artworks.

“Isn’t it so amazing?” You yelled excitedly. You kicked your feet with adorable giggles. “My boyfriend is such a great artist. I love him. Look how good this one is…” You pulled out another artwork. But what Kevin noticed was how gently you handled the canvases, which made his heart melt.

“Another one!” You beamed.

Your friend clapped briefly before giving you a worried look. “Y/n, maybe just calm down a bit.”

“No–” You shook your head stubbornly. “I have to show you another one–” Your words were interrupted when you heard the door creak open from behind. You whipped around to see him leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed as he wore a fond smile.

“She’s right. Maybe take a deep breath?” He smiled.

Your body went rigid. “K-Kevin?”

“Hi, love.”

You hadn’t noticed your friend hang up already.

“What were you doing just now?” He laughed, approaching you, almost making you want to shrink with mortification.

“I was… showing your art…” You muttered.

“Really? Because as far as I know, that art was made specifically for you.”

“Was it?”

“Yeah.” He nodded. He pulled you into a tight hug, pressing a kiss to the top of your forehead. “Is the art pretty?”

“Of course it is.”

“Then the art was made for you. Since you’re beautiful.” He caressed your cheek.

You stammered, unable to come up with a response. Instead, you opted for burying your flushed face in his chest.

chanhee

It wasn’t often that your friend came over, so it was natural for you to be excited to see her again. The two of you went off to talk and have fun in another room as Chanhee kept to himself, scrolling through his phone with music playing in the background. But over the music, he could hear you speak his name. He tilted his head in confusion as he walked over the room.

He saw that the two of you were looking at the computer. Specifically, online shopping on a popular website.

“What about this one?” Your friend asked, pointing at the screen.

You stared at it for a second before shaking your head. “No. It has to be perfect.”

Your friend whined. “We’ve been looking for twenty minutes already.”

“If I’m trying to get a gift for him, it has to fit him,” You explained with a serious expression. “He’s already perfect! Something pretty, nice, and adorable… just like him.” You looked up at the ceiling with lovesick eyes.

Your friend rolled her eyes. “You’ve unbelievably whipped.”

“I am,” You sighed. “I’m in love with him.”

When your friend left, you decided to start cleaning up the mess that you two made. But suddenly, someone attacked you from behind, into a firm back hug. You immediately knew who it was, with his typical perfume and all. His chin was hooked over your shoulder as he peppered kisses all over your cheek.

You giggled. “What’s this for?”

“I don’t need a gift.” He whispered. “You’re all I need.”

You froze. “You heard everything?”

“Mhm.” He smiled. “Thank you for being so sweet.”

“Well, because it’s precisely you.”

He hummed in agreement. Then he kissed you again, this time longer and deeper. “I’m in love with you too.”

“Glad the feelings mutual,” You laughed.

“But what if I’m even more in love with you?” He challenged, smiling brightly.

“Oh, we’re making this a competition?”

changmin

You were currently on a video call with a family member and Changmin just happened to walk by. He was about to mind his own business when he heard you start yelling with frustration. He widened his eyes in fear that you were actually getting into a serious argument so he opened the door and peeked in.

“Are you seriously saying that he looks like a squirrel?” The younger boy on the screen looked at you skeptically.

“Yes!” You exclaimed.

“Uh…” He glanced down for a second before pulling up a hideous picture of a squirrel, mid-bite on his phone. “This is your man?”

You groaned, putting your head in your hands. “Why do you always pick the ugly pictures? Changmin is cute. A cute squirrel. Have you seen his cheeks when he eats? I want to squish them.”

“Jeez…” The boy rolled his eyes. “In love much?”

You snorted. “Like you would know.”

He gasped. “Woah. I’m blocking you.” And then he hung up. You fell against the back of your chair in disbelief.

“He actually hung up...”

“A squirrel, you say?” Your boyfriend appeared behind you, smiling cheekily.

You widened your eyes. “Changmin? How long were you– Where’d you come from?”

“Straight from your heart.” He wiggled his eyebrows.

“Okay, wow that’s cheesy.”

“Says the one who wants to squish my cheeks.”

You whined, “In my defense, you weren’t supposed to hea–” But he suddenly cupped your cheeks and pulled you into a deep kiss.

When he pulled away, he raised an eyebrow attractively. “Why don’t you call me cute to my face?”

“Why should I?”

“So I can kiss you breathless.”

“Really?” You smirked. You waited for a moment before leaning in and whispering into his ear. “Cutie.”

He laughed, his eyes darkening. “Oh, you better get ready.”

“Ah, I’m so scared.” You sarcastically joked. But then you yelped when he dove in and started kissing you with so much passion, you were in fact: breathless.

#the boyz imagines #the boyz reactions #the boyz fluff #tbz fluff #tbz imagines #the boyz x reader #the boyz scenarios #juyeon fluff #juyeon x reader #kevin moon x reader #kevin moon fluff #chanhee x reader #chanhee fluff #changmin fluff #changmin x reader #imagines 💞

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slytherinshua · 8 days

Text

SURPRISE !

genre. fluff. warnings. kissing. changmin w glasses skdjks??? pairing. changmin x fem!reader. wc. 553. request. no. a/n. changmin w his black glasses like in the babydoll stage actually DESTROYS me like wtf i need him...

A flurry of excitement filled your stomach as you peaked around the corner of the building you were hiding behind and saw your boyfriend standing with his back to you. You hadn’t seen him for months, and he didn’t know you had flown out secretly with the help of Chanhee to surprise him. He was talking about something with Eric, laughing at something he had said. You couldn’t see his face, but you could imagine that the dimples you loved so much were displayed.

Eric made eye contact with you, and you gave him a quick thumbs up— the signal you had both agreed on for when you were ready. You heard him bringing up an excuse of having to go to the bathroom, and dip back into the restaurant. Changmin leaned his shoulder against the wall, still with his back turned to you, and took out his phone to type something.

You felt your own phone buzz in your back pocket and bit back a smile. Of course you would be the first person he texted. You ignored the message, and silently crept closer, being as stealthy as you could so he wouldn’t be able to hear you.

Once you got close enough, you reached out and grabbed his thick black glasses from his face, pulling them off easily with a giggle. Changmin gasped in shock, brain not processing what had happened until he turned around in a rush and saw your smug face and your hand held up high with his glasses clutched between your fingers.

“Y/n! Give them back!” He laughed, reaching forward to grab them, but you held them just out of reach of him.

“They’re mine now!” You said, satisfied as you slipped them onto your face while your boyfriend watched in shock. It didn’t take long for his brain to finally process that you had been away from him for months and you weren’t supposed to be in front of him now, except you were.

“How did you-” His jaw dropped again in shock and he reached out to touch you, as if to check if you were actually real or not. Upon finding that you were actually standing in front of him, his body seemed to act faster than his brain.

He pushed you against the wall, closing you in with his hands on your shoulders. His lips were entangled with yours before another second could pass, and all you could do was sigh and kiss him back eagerly, hands finding their home in his dark hair. He had cut it while you were away, and while you had seen pictures, feeling it underneath your own fingertips felt different.

“Missed you too.” You giggled once he pulled away, still holding you close up against the wall. You took off the glasses you had stolen from him and carefully placed them back onto his face, kissing his nose after.

“You should’ve told me you were coming. I would’ve gotten you flowers or something.” He mumbled with a pout.

“That would’ve ruined the surprise.” You argued.

“I missed you so much.” He said, sounding relieved that you were back in his arms. He hugged you to his chest, breathing in your perfume and holding you like it was the last time he would ever be able to.

↳ the boyz taglist (bolded could not be tagged): @eternalgyu,, @blossominghunnie,, @cosmicwintr,, @weird-bookworm,, @haecien,,

@lecheugo,, @seunghancore

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hcuyk · 1 month

Note

okay since you're back, may i please request something around 4am with changmin (or sunwoo?) and make it angst or comfort or whatever just because why not thank you my love i'm so happy you're here you don't imagine how much

[4:01AM]

Not often did you wake up in the middle of the night, yet something felt different. Maybe it was because there was a sudden lump that had developed within your pillow or the temperature in the room had changed, but your dream had slowly faded into darkness. As you adjusted to your senses and reality itself, your eyes fluttered open and caught a glimpse of Changmin in the dark.

Your eyes traced the silhouette illuminated by the moon, noticing his eyes wide and fixated on the ceiling. Unsure of both the time and if Changmin had noticed you, you scooted over to where he was and wrapped your arms around one of his, hugging it close to your chest.

“Why are you up?” you mumbled while tucking your nose behind his shoulder, wanting to remain as close as possible.

Changmin turned his head to face you, slightly startled that you had woken up, but his parted lips of shock curled up into a warm smile—it was almost impossible to not be in love whenever he saw you. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head before shifting in his spot, adjusting so he could bring you into his arms.

“Why are you awake, hm?” He pulled you in close and against his chest, allowing you to snuggle up against him within his embrace.

“I asked you first,” you retaliated. You gave him an exaggerated pout before having it interrupted with a yawn. He shook his head and laughed at you softly, his arms squeezing you. He then had one of his hands gently pat you on the head, providing a weak attempt to get you back to sleep.

“Just woke up randomly, and I couldn’t go back asleep,” he whispered.

“You better not be bullshitting.” He giggled at your grumble, causing you to shuffle your feet under the comforters and kick his legs when you found them. Changmin then burst out in laughter at your terrible attempt and refuted the action by locking his legs around yours, trapping you completely in his hold.

Instead of fighting back, your tired state melted against him, but you still glared at him as a threat.

“I’m not bullshitting, I promise.” Your skepticism made him coo and kiss your nose, watching as your bunched-up facial features began to relax.

“We sleep together?” Noticing your slight worry, he nodded and pressed a soft kiss against your lips to reassure you.

“We sleep together.”

It had taken less than a few minutes for you to knock out, but Changmin was still completely awake. He would play with your hair, tucking strands behind your ear, before his thoughts drifted off once more. He kissed your cheek with a whispered ‘I love you’ before untangling himself from you to glance at the ceiling once more.

His eyes then trailed over to the nightstand by their bed, and without much thought, he silently pulled out the drawer to take out a small velvet box. He flipped it open to reveal the ring he had bought you and raised it to where the moon was shining, wanting to look at it one last time before officially getting down on one knee for you.

His heart thudded against his chest and fluttered the moment he thought about you wearing it on your ring finger. He smiled and put it away so he could go back to holding you, finally relaxed enough to fall back asleep.

You were his forever, and he couldn’t wait for tomorrow.

permanent taglist . . . @armysantiny @stealanity @zzoguri @nyujjan @tinisprout @the-kpop-simp

author's note // first timestamp for changmin! (the other one was unhinged and we pretend it doesn't exist 😭). matty my biggest supporter ilysmsmsmsmsmsmsm thank you for sending this in i hope you enjoy ALSO this may or may not be canon kidult changmin 🫣

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strayed-quokka · 1 year

Text

lifeblood || ji changmin

» summary: your blood was sweet, you were sweet, and changmin is addicted.

» pairing: ji changmin x female reader

» rating: NC-17 minors do not interact

» genre: supernatural, just porn tbh, smut, vampires

» warnings: oral (f recieving), fingering, i guess blood play (according to google it counts), changmin thinks your blood is sweet (yes we went there), biting, scratching, bruising, changmin can be scary in theory but also takes care of you, rough(ish) sex, aftercare, big dick changmin because that is my brand, one use of good girl, sweet names, creampie, brief loss of conciousness if you really look, implied feelings if you squint, oh and he’s pretty fucking strong

» words: 3,296

» a/n: LISTEN I have no excuse, this is filth, it is a mess, roar changmin is to blame. And I wanna just warn that if you have any issues with blood drinking just don’t read it I warned you now PFFF. Like… it’s not for everyone and I get it. But don’t come at me for it if you proceed anyway cause changmin is a vampire and acts accordingly so yeah that is all thank q.

The stories you’d been told when you were younger should’ve maybe deterred you from letting the night time bleed into your window, casting dark shadows along with the moon that illuminated through the sheer curtains. You were always told to be vary, to be afraid of the creatures that roamed in the dark.

The ones that watched you when you’d turn around, the ones who’s bright yellow eyes were a threat, and even more so when they illuminated red.

So why you were letting one spread your bare legs now was beyond you.

Changmin had been an intriguing mystery to you since you met. He seemed sweet, with dimples that charmed you and eyes that seemed so inviting, but when that smile dropped and he became hungry, everything changed.

He could be scary, downright terrifying even, if he wanted to be. His threats that he made were real, always, and his anger was not easy to contain if he released it. Though despite all that, he possessed a hold on you so tight that every time he asked to be invited into your house, you said yes.

It was your own fault. When you’d first met, it was at a gas station and you’d managed to cut your finger somehow on the clip you press down to fill up your car's gas, and almost within seconds, Changmin was behind you.

You should be careful.

He was warning you. Told you that your blood smelled so sweet, it may attract attention from people that would hurt you to get a taste. By the time you’d agreed to let him keep you company to protect you, it was already too late to realise that there was no way he could smell it.

Unless he was one too.

Once you did realise, he simply looked down at you and grinned, almost wicked, as if he knew he was caught but didn’t have any shame. Though despite all that, despite his hunger for you in particular, he had never made you feel like you needed to run away.

And maybe that’s why you were foolish enough to let him stay around, to lick off the wound on your thumb that night and to come around every now and then to try it again. It was an addicting thrill, one that nearly made you feel high, to risk your life in his hands more and more every time.

You were covered in healing puncture wounds from his fangs at various stages, hidden mostly though he’d been particularly careless the other day on your neck, bitten too high and now you were stuck in sweaters far too warm for the weather. He’d check on it occasionally, made sure none of your wounds ever got infected. You’d agreed for him to feed off you, but he had made it clear that he’d always check that you were healing as a compromise to you letting him.

The way he always checked on you was one of the reasons that you were able to calm down, to tell your body that you were safe, despite the sharp pain you’d feel, followed by that same thrilling high.

“I’ve been thinking about you all day,” he’s looking down at you, his chest bare, your ankles over his shoulders as he caresses your legs. You were left in your lace underwear that you’d learned he liked in particular and a tight cropped shirt that was doing nothing to hide your erect nipples.

“Tell me more,” you demand, and Changmin may be annoyed by your insistent attitude if it weren’t for how you were begging the words out with light breaths. He grins instead, turns to the side to kiss your leg before retracting his fangs, letting the point that’s sharper than a blade just scratch the surface of your skin.

It almost tickles, making you squirm.

“Hmmm, I could,” he starts, then leans down to hover over your chest, staring straight into your eyes with ones that are a sharp yellow, “or I could show you?”

You say yes before he’s barely finished speaking, and he knows he has you right where he wants you as he goes to take your shirt off, leaving you in just your panties, ones that are clinging to you with the dampness between your legs.

He’s rather harsh in spreading your legs apart, pushing your left thigh to the side and pressing it into the mattress. The flimsy fabric slips between your folds, revealing part of your drenched cunt to his hungry eyes and you almost don’t notice how quickly he’s sunken down to lie with his head near your thigh, arms under your upper thigh before they circle up to grip your waist.

“Baby,” it’s almost condescending, the tone he uses to speak to you, but there’s something about the draw of his voice that has any ability to bite back, fall to the back of your throat, “I’ve barely touched you.”

You know what he’s talking about. You’re so aroused by his mere presence, that the barely there touches are enough to make you wet. He could do the bare minimum and it would likely still turn you on. Changmin was just… different. Hard to explain, but he was beautiful and calculating, and he’d somehow managed to figure you out in such a short span of time that he knew exactly what to do and how to do it.

“Touch me then,” it’s the only real demand you manage to make, but even then it sounds weak, strained in your throat though he seems to take to the request. You feel the way he hooks two of his fingers by the lace covering your modesty (barely), pushing the fabric to one side before his tongue lays flat between your folds.

The sudden feel of him between your legs has you jolt upwards in surprise, but it makes him eager to keep going. He doesn’t need to be slow with you, can be, but doesn’t have to, and that’s one thing he really likes about you.

“Cute,” he chuckles, and you know he’s looking at you like you’re easily breakable, and honestly, with him you may as well be. You’d always considered your control to be excellent and your reserve strong, but he had you weak. It was near pathetic.

He lays a kiss right over your clit before lightly releasing a breath over the bundle of nerves. The cool sensation makes you whimper, and he gives you no warning when he grabs your hips tighter with his hands, forcing your body up just slightly off your mattress, before his tongue pushes inside you.

“Fuck, Min!” he doesn’t answer, too wrapped up in you, the way you taste and how your body responds to his mouth, to even begin to speak back. Your voice has gone from quiet to a pathetic mess of moans and soft pants, the occasional call of his name that only makes him go faster.

You feel one of his hands slip away from your waist, and you’re about to complain about how cold the bone of your hip feels without his touch, but the thought is erased when his middle finger replaces his tongue inside you, his mouth moving back up between your drenched folds to twirl a pattern around your clit again just as he curls his finger.

You’re going insane.

“Y-yes… more. P-please,” and Changmin won’t deny you when you look this pretty under him, but he also has his own needs to take care of, and the heightened scent of you and your arousal has him desperately needing to taste.

“I- I want… need to taste you,” and it’s when you connect with his eyes that you know he means something else.

That’s another thing about Changmin. No matter how strong his urges are, he’s never once failed to ask you first if it’s okay.

Though it would be difficult at this point to find an instance where you’d deny him the taste of you.

You feel your orgasm build, your head rolling back as soon as you tell him yes, that he can do what he wants, and he quickens his pace to push you right over the edge.

He doesn’t say anything to you, not that he could anyway when his mouth is preoccupied, but he does find the time to slip another two fingers inside you and you know you’re about to come undone. Changmin knows it too, feels it in how you tighten around his fingers and how your thighs press into the side of his head like you could crush him.

Honestly, Changmin finds you so incredibly sexy when you lose your mind.

It’s when you’re just mere seconds away from orgasm that he quickly replaces his tongue with his other free hand, his thumb over your clit instead, and it might’ve delayed your orgasm, made you mewl and plead and ask why, but that never comes.

The sharp pain of his fangs in your thigh mixed in with the pleasure of his fingers brings you over the edge completely, arching off the bed and screaming his name so loud that you’re relieved you live alone. You nearly want to cry from how good it feels, barely comprehending the sensation of him draining you off the sweet crimson liquid that keeps you alive, his fingers still curled inside you as you ride out your orgasm.

He groans, and it’s the sexiest sound you’ve ever heard. Changmin overall, is incredibly sexy, and he loves to remind you like this. You grip his hair with the strength you have left, chest moving rapidly as you tug, trying to pull him away from your thigh.

Changmin complies. Even if his instincts tell him he doesn’t want to, that he could drain you completely and wants to, he also knows that when you pull him away, he’s going to obey.

It’s the only thing Changmin lets you control, mostly because he knows you do it when it’s too much, when it either hurts past pleasure (though that’s exceedingly rare), or you’re becoming dazed and lightheaded to the point of it being dangerous. That’s why he listens, even if his entire being tells him not to.

His eyes are stained red now, dark and haunting, like they are every time he consumes you, and you swear his gaze is so intense that it demands your body to move regardless of your own mind. You’ve turned around on the bed before he even asks, though he’s the one to forcibly push your knees further apart, your ass up while your face rests against the pillows.

“You’re eager, god,” you nod desperately, though you’re not sure he even notices, “you want me to fuck you like this?”

You try to speak. You really, honestly try, but no sound comes out. Not until you feel a sharp slap to your ass that nearly pushes your whole body forward, “Yes! Please, y-yes.”

“Good girl,” you can feel him press his body against you, his cock bare against your folds and it makes you mewl, pushing against him. He has the nerve to laugh at you, leaning down so his chest hovers over your back as he whispers in your ear, “does your leg hurt?”

You’d honestly been so out of it that you’d forgotten, though this serves as a reminder of the sting on your left upper thigh. It does hurt, but not nearly enough for you to care.

“I’m okay,” and you say it with the most conviction, your heart warming just enough that it might scare you to what the implications of your feelings may mean. He doesn’t ask for anything else, though he’s always cautious anyway, in case anything shifts in your tone that implies that you’re not okay.

Changmin may have fucked you quite a number of times by now, and whilst you may have gotten used to his presence in the bedroom, it somehow still surprised you when his cock would bury itself inside you. Because no matter how often you found yourself like this, you were still naive enough to believe that he must be fully inside you when he’d really only come a little over halfway.

And every time, without fail, the realisation that he was going deeper made you whimper his name in a way that sounded like a musical note to his ears. It was beautiful, to see you so out of it when he’d barely done anything that required effort.

He stays like this for a while, cock inside you fully while your walls constrict around him, making him hiss as he’s gripping your waist with his fingers, kneading the flesh so hard it may definitely bruise as he steadies you, and you want to tell him to move, that you need him to.

Though he knows. He knows to replace his inaction with too much, because it sends you into overdrive and he loves to see you fall apart like this. Changmin is fast, unnaturally so which makes sense given who he is, but it’s the way in which he slams his hips into you that would make you collapse if he wasn’t keeping you up.

“Oh fuck! F-fuck… M-Minnie. Harder!”

“Think you can… can take that?”

He loves to tease you, push you to limits that a human shouldn’t be pushed too, but you want it and he won’t deny you.

“Y-yes. Please, Min,” his one arm goes around your chest, lifting you up against his own, your back arched while he quickens his pace, and he’s so aggressive that it may bruise both his own hips and your ass as a result, but you don’t care.

“Wish you could s-see what you look like,” he’s trembling, nibbling on your ear before he’s gently biting into your shoulder, just sharp enough to feel but not enough to cause injury, something which takes a level of self control that he’s spent decades trying to master. You grip the arm he has around your chest with your fingers, clawing at his forearm and flesh to hold onto just as he brings his free hand to your clit, “beautiful.”

Changmin is a master at making you fall apart. The way he slams into you is animalistic, brutal even, in ways you always wished to experience when past partners just didn’t do enough, and it’s the way he shows care to you whilst treating you like a ragdoll that ultimately makes you lose your mind.

“Fuck-” he groans, forehead falling to your shoulder, “you’re clenching.”

You know what that means. You know that aside from you being so close to an orgasm, it means that he’s going crazy from how your walls feel constricting around his cock and that he wants you to come.

“B-bite me. P-please C-Changmin,” he doesn’t see sense anymore when you ask like that. He releases a deep growl, near possessive of you, his teeth digging into the flesh between where your neck meets your shoulder, the arm that was around your chest further up by your shoulder blades now as the other wraps around your stomach, firmly gripping you in place as he slams his cock into you one more time, your orgasm so intense that you swear you nearly see absolute darkness for just a second when you reopen your eyes.

You cry out his name, screaming and trembling as he’s firm in keeping you unmoving which only makes it more intense, and he groans, licking the wound on your neck as you feel his cum fill you up, milking him dry as your walls clench repeatedly to grip him.

He’s about to pull out but your hips follow his movements, keeping him close to you and you can practically feel him smirk against your neck.

“Baby, we can’t stay like this,” but you don’t want to listen to him even if he’s right. Even when you feel him try to lick the crimson red from your skin by your neck to clean you up because you’re being stubborn and won’t let him help you properly, even then, you don’t want to move.

However, Changmin is just as stubborn as you. That, and he has supernatural strength, able to overpower you in seconds and so he does, throwing you around and up onto his waist as he stands on the bed, your legs around his hips as you feel his cum slowly move down between your legs and to your ass, his hands gripping your flesh while he looks up at you.

There’s something so inherently sexy about the way he can get up after an orgasm and throw you onto his waist to walk you into the bathroom, and something far more sexy about being met with the state you’re in because of him. He ruins you beautifully, litters your skin with beautiful colour that also stains his soft lips and white teeth.

“I’m fineeeee,” but it sounds pathetic, and it’s near embarrassing how your body arches to him spreading your legs again, making him laugh at you.

“I need to clean them,” he says, stubborn as he gently slaps your hand away that’s reaching out to touch him, “behave.”

As soon as the damp warm cloth touches your wounded thigh is when you realise that it actually hurts quite a bit more than you’d noticed, making you hiss slightly at the stinging as he tries to gently treat your skin. His eyes are hungry when he does, and you know that deep down, he’s fighting with himself to taste you again.

“Minnie?”

“Hmm?”

Though you aren’t sure why you called his name, what you’re trying to get his attention for, so you just watch him fondly with eyes that give away far more than you’re ready to admit to him or even yourself.

“You’re pretty.”

He laughs again, moving up to clean your neck and you let him without any hesitation, completely trusting him despite his instincts.

“You’re so cute,” it makes you blush, dazed from orgasm and happy enough that he warms you with words that seem so mundane and basic, yet they’re not, “I’m gonna disinfect it but… do you wanna shower first?”

“Yes please,” your hands reach for him again, and this time he takes them into his, drawing circles with his thumbs over your knuckles, “with you?”

“If you behave,” you gasp, laughing and feigning shock though you nod nevertheless as he brings you off the counter and to your shower, stumbling slightly as you do, “careful.”

“I don’t like how you still function. It’s not fair,” you pout, letting him follow you with a hand reached out around your back just in case you fall.

“Darling, you know you can’t compare us like that,” and he’s right, of course. He has advantages, unfair ones, but it still makes you pout.

“Do I not satisfy you, hmm?” it’s a joke, both of you know it, but Changmin has turned you around and pressed you against the tiled wall in less than a second. His eyes are fading from their blood red to an orange hue, an indication that they’re going back to their natural state of yellow.

“Answer your own question, I dare you to.”

It’s the way his eyes hunger for you again, how they want you, always, and you know it was stupid to even joke, because the very answer is one thing you’ve always known since you met.

Ji Changmin wants you the way one wants a drug when they’re addicted. He’s insatiable and he hungers for you, because you’re the only one who satisfies him.

You're the only one that tastes so sweet.

changmin is the reason i have no sanity left and i hope it showed PFFF

I'll try to update quite soon cause I have some extra time but deciding on who to write is hard when I've been on my knees for all of them lately 🛐

tbz masterlist

#the boyz smut #changmin smut #q smut #ji changmin #the boyz changmin #changmin x reader #the boyz q #smut #the boyz #the boyz changmin smut #q x reader #tbz x reader #tbz #roar made me do it #changmin is an aftercare king always though #supernatural changmin #nc-17

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winterchimez · 7 months

Text

Insanity | Ji Changmin

SUMMARY: It has been several years since Gotham City mourned the passing of the previous Robin, Ji Changmin. However, as you continue with your career as Batgirl to protect the city while filling in for your mentor, Batman, you eventually discover that Changmin was alive all these years after all but has now turned into the city’s most wanted criminal. It is your job to eliminate him for good, but you just can’t bring yourself to do so. How could you? Especially when you still have feelings for him even after all these years.

PAIRING: robin/joker Changmin x batgirl f!reader (feat. nightwing Sangyeon)

GENRE: batman au, angst, crime, thriller, some fluff, slight suggestive

WARNINGS: nc-17, slow-burn, violence, manipulation, mentions of drug trafficking, torture, traumatic(-ish) childhood, time skip, characters' death, kissing, mentions of weapons (guns, snipers, blades, etc.), blood, both Changmin & Sangyeon are just SO flirty here

WORD COUNT: 14,136 (wowza)

A/N: happiest birthday to my pookie, my beloved lil 妹妹 whom i love so so freaking much and would protect with the rest of my life, @sungbeam 🥳 you've been there since day 1 of my writing journey, and no words could ever describe how much you mean to me 🥹 i hope this fic would somehow be a worthy gift to you miss beam 😮‍💨

also this is my first time writing a superhero au, so pls bear with me it might not be the best i apologise 😭 (this is by far the longest oneshot ive ever written oops—)

Year 2X42

“There have been reports of cases of drug trafficking on the outskirts of Gotham City, and the league have decided to deploy you and your team for the job since it is your area of residence, after all.”

Turning around from his chair, the male looks up at his huge monitor, seemingly replying to the person on screen as half-heartedly as possible. “Sure, Clark. Leave it up to me to deal with the dirty business of the city.”

Clark—better known as Clark Kent or Superman, then quickly shifted his facial expression towards his good old friend, indicating that the situation was far more gruesome and serious than it used to be.

“Bruce... just a fair warning. You do know who the mastermind of this particular crime spree is, especially when you have dealt with him for decades. You certainly don’t plan to bring your two kids with you, right?”

That was when he immediately brought up his fingers to massage his temples. Bruce knew he would eventually bring them up on this particular topic. Why wouldn’t he? Especially when his two kids, whom he is especially proud of—you and Changmin, have assisted him in many of his work.

You both have been registered in the league’s system for quite a few years now, Changmin starting a little ahead of you since he was a few years older than you were. Both you and Changmin have lived in poverty in the dark slumps of the outskirts of Gotham for many years, having been abandoned by your parents from a young age. It was tough to live in Gotham City, especially when the city was often tied with crime and corruption. If only you were born into the upper class, then you would’ve had a better chance of survival.

Unfortunately, you and Changmin just had to end up in the city's lower class. All Changmin knew about his parents was that his mother was a prostitute, and he ended up becoming an aftermath of a one-night stand. Hence, he was immediately dumped on the streets right after birth. Some kind-hearted families took him in for a while, but eventually, he needed to venture out on his own to ease the family's expenses.

On the other hand, you had a relatively good upbringing until your parent’s murder when you were 9. Having no other place or family to turn to, you eventually find your way into the slumps.

And that was when you met Changmin.

By then, Changmin had already created a reputation for him. He somehow became the so-called “leader” among the troupe and led the kids around to make a decent living even during the worst situation possible. He treated you like a little sister, and you both became inseparable as time passed. You both would always stick together, even going up to the main city to look for food to provide for the others back at your so-called home.

It wasn’t until several years later, both of you aged 16 and 14 respectively, that you came across the infamous Bruce Wayne himself. He was out on a business around the slumps—seemingly tracking down one of the most wanted criminals then, which was also when he found you two and the rest of the kids.

Thanks to Mr Wayne’s contribution, he placed all of the kids into a care facility sponsored by the Wayne Enterprises, where they would finally have a rooftop over their heads and a better future ahead of them. On the other hand, you and Changmin have seemingly intrigued the man himself, and he decided to take you in and raise you two as if you were his children.

It turns out that his intuition about you both wasn’t wrong after all. Both of you possessed a higher intelligence level than usual and could pick up combat skills almost immediately. The first time he brought you both down to his training station to have a go, you adjusted quickly to all the provided gadgets. With the help of his trusted butler Alfred, both of them made sure that the two of you were trained to be skilled fighters and have a loving family of the four of you.

It was obvious among the two of you that Changmin stood out a bit more and earned the title Robin at 18. All you knew was that Mr Wayne had raised an individual before you two and he was the original Robin, but certain things happened along the way and he hung his cape up, never to return. All you could assume was that he had enough of his life as the superhero himself and perhaps created a new alias to start anew. Discussing it was hard with Mr Wayne, so you’ve never pressed further.

You were certainly a bit jealous at the beginning as Mr Wayne would only take Changmin with him out on missions, pressing that you needed more practice or it was too dangerous for a woman like you. But you proved him wrong and finally made a name for yourself about a year prior.

Batgirl. The first ever in the family.

With that, Mr Wayne has trusted you enough to take you along on his missions and eventually assign minor ones for you both to deal with when Batman himself isn’t present to deal with them personally.

You and Changmin made a great team, and it might even become the best combo Batman has ever seen. Even better than himself than the original Robin decades ago.

So it all came down to making the decision. To take you both along with him during this special assigned mission from the league or not? It was a risk, especially when the mastermind behind this mission was someone who had been hunting Bruce Wayne himself for as long as he could remember. Dealing with him has always been a life-and-death situation.

The Joker.

But Mr Wayne trusted you both, and it was about time for him to prove to the league his proudest achievement just yet.

“I’ve made my decision, Clark. And there will be no second thoughts about this.” He paused briefly before finally tilting his head up to the screen and looking at his friend seriously.

“I’m taking both of them with me.”

“Come on, Y/N. You can do better than that.”

Changmin pinned you down to the ground and head-locked you, ensuring you had little to no escape from him.

You both were sparring as usual in the training station in the Batcave, and it is always a competition between you two. Just as the male thought he had everything under control, you freed yourself from his grasp and turned him around. The next thing that happened was that you were hovering over him and pinning both of his arms above his head.

“Says you, Robin. This is now my 35th win, and you owe me a bowl of Akamaru Ramen down the streets later tonight.” You smirked.

“Sheesh, Batgirl. Seems like you have improved from the last time we sparred.” He gives you a wink, and you roll your eyes up, trying your best to ignore his flirty remarks.

It wasn’t long before the two of you broke off from your positions as the familiar grunt filled the entire training room.

“You’ve gotten a new mission for us, Mr. Wayne?” Changmin asked enthusiastically, desperately wanting to be deployed almost immediately and showcase his newly perfected martial arts skills and new gadgets he had just gotten from Alfred a week ago.

“Slow down, cowboy. I am going to need you two to listen to me very carefully. And I will not allow a single mistake to happen for this one.”

With that, both of you followed your mentor right back into the control room where the batcomputers were stored. It was clear that Mr Wayne was here minutes ago and had just recently hung up a call from someone from the league. You guessed it would’ve been Superman since he would be the main person to contact Batman often, being the league's chief.

Mr Wayne then leaned back onto the computer desk, crossing his arms as he pressed play on one of the remotes that were situated in his hand. Immediately, the video footage on-screen depicts a series of trucks entering a secluded area outside Gotham City. It was rare as the number of trucks slowly grew each second. 10, 20, and eventually up to 30 of them.

Once the trucks were parked around the area, one of the drivers, whom you both assumed to be the squad leader, got down from the vehicle and opened up the trunk boot. And that was when you both saw it with your own eyes.

Heroin. One of the most life-threatening ones to humankind.

Just as you thought it would be over, another figure pops up on-screen, someone you have all been familiar with for decades. Too familiar with to be exact.

“Joker.” Changmin clenched his fist, his eyes now narrowed and his facial expression seemingly changed almost immediately compared to when he was back at the training station.

You know how much beef The Joker has with the Bat Family, including Changmin. As much as he was the ultimate archenemy of Batman—he was also, in fact, the same for Robin. Changmin had his fair share of encounters with the infamous enemy, and neither had been pleasant. Adding salt to the wound, he would often return with an injury whenever he faced the psychopath himself, never once coming back home in one piece.

But usually, it was both Batman and Robin who dealt with The Joker, not Batgirl. So why even did Mr Wayne request for your presence this time?

As you open your mouth to get an answer, Mr Wayne beats you to it by explaining the situation in detail.

“I know we have dealt with the madman himself countless times, and it’s nothing new that he would do such a thing. But judging by the amount of drugs he had smuggled in this time, I fear the worst could happen.”

“Mr Wayne, you don’t think…” Changmin proposed.

“It is exactly what’s on your mind, Robin.”

No way. The Joker plans to drug at least half the population of Gotham City.

Knowing him, he could execute such a plan in countless ways or methods. Besides, he would definitely strike when law enforcement least expects it to happen. Hence, it is up to the Bat Family to put a stop to this massacre from happening.

With that, Mr. Wayne turned towards you and began speaking up again. “And I thought we could definitely use a little more manpower for this job.”

You were ecstatic, to say the least. Going on a mission with both Batman and Robin? Oh lord, that would be a dream come true. Most of the time, you were either often deployed on minor cases that you could’ve dealt with on your own or paired up with Changmin to deal with slightly more dangerous matters that were right up your alley and didn’t require the presence of Batman to clean up the dirty work. You have probably been deployed just once or twice with Mr Wayne himself, but not with both of them present.

But you were hesitant. You have never encountered the madman himself before, while Batman and Robin have. So what in the world was Mr Wayne thinking to bring you along for this mission?

Was it a test for you? Was it for you to prove to him how much you have grown? Were you finally going to make a name for yourself and be as famous as the duo already are in Gotham City?

As much as you liked your last idea, you were still reluctant.

“I… I don’t know about this, Mr Wayne. With all due respect, I deeply appreciate the opportunity given. But are you sure a common girl like me could do the job?” Your voice was shaking, unsure of this whole situation at hand.

But Mr Wayne steps closer to you, placing one hand on your right shoulder. “You are not just a common girl. You’re Batgirl. You are my pride and joy, and it’s time for me to finally show the world how amazing you are and that you are finally ready to join the Justice League.”

Your ears perked up at that. Even if he seemed cold outside, Mr Wayne always knew the right words and timing to comfort you. That was all you needed to know to be sure that you were needed for this mission, and there was no mistake.

At the same time, Mr. Wayne pulls Changmin towards him so he is now hugging you two. “Batman could always use some good sidekicks by his side, and tonight is the night.”

Finally, he breaks off the hug and puts on his stern face, which the public has grown familiar with.

“We leave tonight in two hours. Gear up, kids.”

It took Alfred less than an hour to figure out the exact coordinates of the exact location where the drug trafficking was taking place. Thanks to that, the three of you immediately hopped into the batmobile and eventually reached your destination within 15 minutes.

After parking the vehicle somewhere undetected, all three of you used your batclaw to get yourselves up to the higher ground, now examining the entire base area of operation with your own eyes.

The area was an abandoned factory, where the men had begun unloading the bags filled with heroin. A few individuals stood out as they possessed a walkie-talkie around their hips, indicating that they were responsible for giving orders and communicating.

Upon closer inspection, all of the trucks used were freezer trucks— all embedded with the Wayne Enterprises logo all over the exterior of all 30 trucks. There was no doubt they could bypass the security borders, and it was very bold and cunning for them to do so as well.

“There is no way I’ll let them tarnish your name, Mr Wayne. This is all a sick joke.” Changmin said furiously, already ready to hop into action.

“Easy now, Robin. Let us establish our roles before going into action without a plan.” You stopped your friend by placing your hand on his chest.

“Batgirl’s right. Now, listen to me, you two. As this operation is way too dangerous, there is no way I’m letting you both step close to The Joker himself, did I make myself clear?”

Mr Wayne immediately turned his direction to Changmin, knowing fully how he would definitely be the type to act all mighty and head straight for The Joker’s head. But given the situation and the look in Mr Wayne’s eyes, Changmin had no choice but to obey his commands if he wished to return home in one piece.

“I will be the one who’s going to go for the psychopath. I need you two to clear out all of the thugs and workers here. Once you’re done, contact Alfred and he will let you two know on what to do with the large amount of drugs. If you ever come across The Joker, don’t engage. Call me and I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

With that, Batman gives a pat on both of your shoulders, extends out his cape, and flies all the way down—taking down several henchmen at once and quickly making his way down into the basement, where The Joker would most definitely be.

“Alright, Robin. You’re the senior here. Tell me what to do.” You nudged Changmin’s shoulder, waiting for his reply.

He smiled at you and crossed his arms before filling you in with his plan. “Okay, Junior. Listen and watch. You and I will clear off the thugs from the main entrance first, and then we’ll hack into the system and get in to deal with the rest. I’ll leave the hacking to you as the computer wizz of the team.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

Within seconds, both of you extended your capes and flew all the way down, both taking down a thug at a time. Immediately, the enemy noticed your presence, and about 20 men seemingly emerged from the shadows—all armed with baseball bats, ready to knock you both out.

But 20 was just a number as you both were skilled in martial arts—it was only a matter of time before you two eventually defeated them all to clear the pathway to access the main door. You immediately took out your remote hacking device to open the main door, and within seconds you succeeded. It was Batgirl’s forte, after all.

As the door pried open, there were more who had been expecting your arrival. Some of them were equipped with shotguns and snipers this time, but that didn’t bother you both that much. Working together with Changmin, each of you took one side of the hall, landing a punch or kick to knock these bad boys out.

Huh. This wasn’t as difficult or dangerous as Batman had mentioned. Now why would—

Your thoughts were interrupted as you felt a bullet graze through your shoulders. It definitely stung and blood was now oozing out slowly as you clutch onto your open wound with your hands. You were turning around to see who was the culprit behind this.

Suddenly, you felt your limbs start to go numb, and you immediately collapsed onto the cold solid ground.

What’s happening? Why is my body aching all of a sudden?

Still trying your best to look around your surroundings, you were starting to feel your eyelids drop, which was a very bad sign.

No. No. Batgirl! Stay focused!

Finally, your eyes fall on one individual who stands out from the rest of the crowd. As the individual slowly made their way towards you, you noticed how the other thugs had begun to back off, making out a pathway for the individual to come to you without having any obstructions in their way.

That green hair. That pale white skin. And those horrendous blood-red lips.

Joker.

“My my, who do we have here for company tonight? Huh, seems like I’ve got a new visitor in town!” It was that sinister voice all of you have grown accustomed to. God, he was now right in front of you, squatting down while placing his pistol right onto your skull, which was the weapon you assumed he had just used to shoot that bullet that grazed you a minute ago.

“Good heavens, if it isn’t the infamous Batgirl that has been the talk of the town! It seems that Batman can no longer contain his little one and finally let her out of the cave!”

As taunting as his demeanour and voice were, you were still struggling and fighting with yourself to keep yourself awake and not fall into his trap while trying to figure out an escape plan or counterattack right back at the madman himself. The Joker constantly pressed the tip of the pistol into your skull, applying slightly more pressure each time he did it.

Batgirl… please… do something—

“Stay away from her!!”

Both you and The Joker dart your eyes in the direction of the voice, and sure enough, you find Changmin just a few meters away from you now, holding a shuriken in both hands, aiming towards the madman himself.

“If it isn’t my favourite superhero boy, Robin! How have you been, my dear, it has certainly been a while since we last met.”

Changmin wasn’t interested in playing games with The Joker and he immediately cut to the chase. “What have you done to her.”

“Oh no, nothing much. Just loaded my trustworthy pistol with some infused poison bullets. And your poor girlfriend seemed to have taken a close shot of it, so she is unable to move now.” This time, The Joker grabs a chunk of your hair and pulls them up aggressively, which was where you were also pulled up from the ground against your will.

Both of you remembered Batman’s warnings to never engage with The Joker and to contact him immediately. But there was a problem—you were wounded, and you both were now surrounded by tons of thugs around you, with the madman himself threatening your life at this point. If only you weren’t poisoned, perhaps you both could have pulled something off quickly to distract him and contact Batman immediately. But you were stuck, and there was no way Changmin would take his eyes off you, especially when The Joker was right in front of you, having full control over you now.

Changmin’s tut was visible and loud enough for you to hear even meters away, and you knew you both were stuck big time.

“Tic toc, tic toc. Robin. I might as well just fire the fatal blow into Batgirl’s skull if you keep standing there!” The Joker taunted, and immediately he was loading his pistol again, getting ready to fire this time.

In a flash, Changmin aimed and threw one of his shurikens at The Joker, and he quickly made his way towards him, landing a punch right into his abdomen and then quickly picking you up and moving to higher ground.

“You’ve gotten a little heavier, haven’t you?” Changmin teased; clearly, he was panting.

“Please… not the time, Changmin. We’ve got to contact Mr Wayne now.”

“Hah.. right.”

Just as he was about to ring Mr Wayne, Changmin immediately felt an excruciating pain, and his entire body felt numb. Within seconds, his grip loosened around you and he fell back to the ground. You were now trying to understand what was happening when you realised that The Joker fired that shot right into Changmin’s back. And now, he was poisoned as well.

“Well, what did I say, kiddos! You’ve got to make a decision quickly before I land that shot! Oh, don’t worry, Batgirl. The poison is not enough to kill Robin immediately—he will die a slow and painful death instead.” The Joker and his thugs were slowly approaching Changmin, and you were all alone on the higher grounds, having to witness this scene helplessly.

That was when you finally received a transmission from Batman.

“You two, change of plans! I’m going to blow the entire place up. Both of you get out of there immediately!”

Within seconds, bombs began to detonate one by one, and the abandoned factory was now slowly collapsing. It was chaos, and everyone was running around frantically while trying to escape as best as possible.

You tried your best to push yourself back up, supporting yourself with the pillar right beside you. Equipping your batclaw, you have decided to swing back down to get Changmin out of there.

But you were too late, for The Joker was now grabbing Changmin by the shoulder, seemingly backing off to enter back into the abandoned factory.

“It seems that this operation has failed, and I am not having one of you escape alive, that is!”

“NO!!!”

You ran towards them, but the next thing that happened, the final explosion blew you away, and all you could hear was a siren. You tried to keep your eyes open, and all you could see was the entire factory up in flames, not a single human in sight. Before you passed out, you could vaguely make out a black figure approaching you, your mentor.

And what happened after all of that was then a blur.

It has been a week since that fateful incident.

When you have jolted awake from your slumber, you find yourself on the operating table back down in the Wayne Manor. You’ve had an oxygen mask placed over your mouth, with some IV drips inserted into your arms. How long has it been since then?

Just as you are about to stand up, Alfred makes his way into the room while passing you a tray of food to fill up your hunger.

And that was when you remembered the events that happened.

You begged to know the details but Alfred remained silent, not wanting to speak up just yet. But eventually, you’ve managed to get him to spill the tea, and you wish you could’ve taken it all back instead.

After the explosion, Batman was the one who scooped you up, took you back into his batmobile and brought you back to Alfred immediately. He tried his best to search for Changmin and The Joker amidst the blazing inferno, but all he could find was a piece of fabric from Changmin’s outfit and from The Joker, which could only mean the worst.

You screamed. You placed your head down into both of your hands and began screaming frantically. In order to save you, he took on the bullet, knowing very well that The Joker was planning to aim it at you. That explained why he turned his back towards the madman back then to shield you from taking another shot of the poisoned bullet.

Mr Wayne did not take it well either. He secluded himself in his room for days and wouldn’t step out from it, even when the league called multiple times to ask for updates regarding the case. It was all up to Alfred to take up the job in his presence.

But the days then passed into a week, and now all three of you were standing in the pouring rain of Gotham Cementary, overlooking the newly carved headstone that read your partners-in-crime’s name and span of life.

How badly you’ve wished that all this was a terrible nightmare, and you begged anyone to put some sense into you and wake you up from this bad dream. As much as you pinched yourself, it surely was a reality. You dropped down onto your knees, resting your head on the headstone, crying your heart out loud.

Why did it have to be you? Why did it have to be this particular mission? Just. Why?

Mr Wayne and Alfred said nothing as they stood in the rain with their eyes closed, not wanting to accept reality either. Countless thoughts were also going through their mind, along with the guilt and sadness—the same emotions that you were feeling.

But what pains you the most wasn’t his passing; it was how you’ve never got to confess your love for him after all these years.

Year 2X47 — 5 years later

It was your usual routine as you were back down in the training station once again, both of your fists tied up with the usual white bandages as you landed one punch after another onto the punching bag. You have always loved to keep yourself busy—always finding the time to improve your skills whenever you had some time to spare in the Wayne Manor and Batcave.

It surely hasn’t been easy since that fateful day five years ago. Since then, Batman has forbidden you from taking on any missions involving The Joker—quite frankly, you were thankful for in one way or another. There was no way you could’ve forgotten about what happened then so easily and faced the psychopathic killer himself. Instead, you were left with crimes that the GCPD occasionally required some assistance with.

You had to thank the GCPD for even requesting your help. Otherwise, you would’ve rotted away in the comforts of your room and sulked for years. At least fighting crime and assisting them was also a way to keep your mind busy and away from all of the negative thoughts.

Just as you were done with your training, you heard a sudden ping from your earpiece; it was from Alfred.

“Batgirl, report to the control room immediately, please.”

Once you have gotten the message, you quickly put all of the equipment away and shut down the room. You hoped that the mission for tonight was something worthwhile.

You were baffled, to say the least, when you approached the computer screen. It wasn’t from the GCPD tonight but from the league. Since Batman was away at the moment, you had no choice but to step in for Mr Wayne.

Accepting the call, the screen immediately opens with Superman on screen—even he was surprised that you would answer the call. But there was no time to waste and he eventually cut to the chase.

“Joker is back in town and he is plotting another major catastrophe that could bring the entire Gotham City down. He is planning to eliminate the GCPD and take over the city.”

What a jokester the madman himself sure is.

“But I am aware from the last mission that you’ve had that Bruce forbids you to step close to The Joker himself. With Bruce being away to deal with some league missions, I’m afraid the only person I could turn to in Gotham City is you.”

Well, that was true. It has always been the three of you in Gotham City. Now, only the two of you were in the picture since Robin’s passing. It was up to you to take on the job or not.

You have definitely shown some hesitation there, and given your facial expressions, it was clear that you needed some time to think about it. Superman then decides to give you at least ten minutes to make the decision and he hangs up the call.

One thing is for sure: Alfred was against you going alone alone on this mission. With the absence of Batman, there was nobody who was going to be your sidekick this time.

If only Robin were still alive, that is.

Alfred’s feelings were valid and understandable, especially when he has been concerned about your well-being since that day. He has also been your father figure, just as Mr Wayne had done all these years.

But if no superhero was available in Gotham City, you were practically left with no choice but to face your worst nightmare. You gave yourself a deep breath and mentally prepared yourself that it was about time to overcome your fear—it was time to face the madman himself while putting closure to all of this.

You made a promise to Alfred that you would always keep in close contact with him by constantly sending him transmissions to let him know each and every single one of your movements. And this time, you will immediately retreat if you’ve sensed danger or threat to your life.

You were definitely not taking risks anymore especially facing the psychopath himself all alone.

Returning the call to Superman, you huffed and closed your eyes before opening them once again to stand firm on your decision.

“Send me the coordinates of the location.”

You arrived quickly at the designated location on one of the rooftops of the nearby buildings, which gave you a clear look at the GCPD. Just as Superman has stated, the police department was in an awful state—countless windows were broken through and there were plenty of hostages within the building. These hostages also included the policemen themselves.

You knew you would definitely not act hastily, given the current situation. It was just you—you’re all alone in this madness. You had to think carefully about your next plan of action if you wished to keep all of the hostages and yourself alive, that is.

With that, you took out your binoculars to scope out which floor would be the best for you to infiltrate—the fourth floor. Using your batclaw, you aimed at the balcony of the building and swung away into the floor itself—crashing into the glass windows while taking down the few thugs that were stationed there. It wasn’t too hard for you to find the lighting control panel which you used your remote hacking device to crack the code open and shut down the lights from the entire building. That way, you’re able to roam around without being detected easily.

Quickly jumping and breaking down the glass tiles from the current floor onto the ground, you managed to take down the thugs one by one by doing so undetected. Once that was out of the way, you freed the hostages by cutting through the ropes they were bound with using your batarang.

“The Joker is on the top floor with Commissioner Gordon. Please be careful, Batgirl.” One of the officers warned you.

Taking that down mentally, you slowly made your way up to the top floor, eliminating all enemies that were in your way.

Eventually, you’ve come face-to-face with The Joker while the commissioner is tied onto a wooden chair. But something felt different.

The Joker himself was wearing a clown mask over his face. Why did he decide to do so? Was it because he was wounded from a previous crime spree he was on? Or did Batman manage to land a blow on one of his missions?

“Well, what do we have here? If it isn’t the infamous Batgirl! It has been a few years, sweetheart. It’s a pleasure to be able to see you again in person.”

Even the voice sounded different somehow.

“What is your purpose, Joker. Why even consider taking over the GCPD.”

He chuckled. “Oh, honey. I’ll be a dear and tell you why, hmm?”

He walked closer to you and you couldn’t help but take a few steps back. Eventually, he stops about a few centimetres apart from you and bends down to be at eye-level with you.

“I do very bad things honey, and I do them very well. And nobody is going to stop me because they fear me, and I fear nothing. So I will gladly take on any chances I can get in this beloved city of yours and turn the tables around, doesn’t it sound tempting?”

Not wanting to hear his sick jokes anymore, you quickly balled up your fist and landed a punch directly onto his face, but his hands were quick enough to grab hold of your fist, stopping your tracks.

Since when did The Joker have such great agility?

“Seemed like someone’s been working on their reflexes since we last met, haven’t we.” The Joker taunted before trying to grab hold of this pistol behind his hips and aimed the bullet at you. He shot a few times, but each time you dodged them to the best of your ability as you were constantly running around the room.

Once you were at a distance between you and he was, you took out your batclaw and aimed it at the pistol, which you managed to bring it over to your side—loaded it before pulling the trigger and aiming at the mask he was wearing.

Sure enough, one of the bullets managed to penetrate through the mask and it was surprisingly way more sturdier than it was. It managed to form a small crack, but the blow was not enough. Perhaps your only choice was to have a close combat range, and you would either take it off or destroy it to find out who is really behind that mask.

It took a while before you managed to come close to The Joker as he was shooting you from afar. Once you’ve done so, you managed to grab hold of his arm that was holding the pistol and punched right through the mask. You’ve succeeded in destroying it with your brute strength in one blow.

But you wished that you could’ve taken it back.

Whatever that you’ve just seen was horrifying, and you were in absolute shock and denial.

There’s no way. It absolutely can’t be.

He… but he’s…

“Cha-Changmin…?” You stuttered, and your eyes widened. You thought you were hallucinating. That can’t be. He died 5 years ago, and you and Mr Wayne were there to witness it all.

Is this some sort of joke? A reincarnation? Another bad joke from the real Joker himself?

You backed away, and so did he. You could tell that it was fine for now, and he wasn’t going to shoot because he seemed as baffled as you were. As much as you want to pinch yourself to wake you up from this bad dream, you notice his sincere eyes. One that you’ve always loved since you both met at the slumps.

Unbeknownst to him, a single tear drop eventually fell onto his face, ruining the white makeup that he had got on him. He gently raised his hands and touched it, looking bewildered as if he had no idea what was happening.

You did what you thought was best at the moment, taking a step closer and reassuring him that it was all alright and how much everyone had missed him.

How much you’ve missed him, to be exact.

“Changmin…”

“Don’t come any closer. Please… stay away from me!” He protested, taking several steps back to keep a distance from you. He then placed one of his hands on the side of his head as if he remembered something—or rather, it actually triggered something within him. His pupils were now shaking, and you desperately wanted to help and hold him close to you.

Then, you both heard footsteps coming up the stairs, which meant your alone time was up. The officers were bound to capture The Joker and place him behind bars for good this time.

Just then, Changmin regained his composure and aimed his pistol directly at you. Before loading the gun, he said one last sentence to you.

“The person you once knew me as has died.”

With that, he pulled the trigger but he missed his shot. Instead, it landed on one of the window latches and it broke apart—giving him the immediate escape route as he ran and jumped out of the building. You stood there, baffled by the situation, while the officers had now filled the room scanning for signs of The Joker.

Commissioner Gordon approached you, thanking you for saving his and his comrades' lives. He also reassured you that they will be keeping track of The Joker’s movements and keep you updated with anything.

But only one thing filled your mind and you needed answers desperately.

Changmin was alive this whole time. But how?

You quickly made your return to the Batcave and immediately approached Alfred. You needed to know that whatever answers—even the tiniest detail, could help you solve the puzzle.

Alfred was quiet at the beginning, debating on the right words to tell you the truth at this point. Apparently, Batman has found out about this a year prior, knowing very well that Changmin was alive and well, and has somehow taken the persona of The Joker. But according to Alfred, Mr Wayne was still looking for answers about how it had all ended up this way.

As much as you were furious about not knowing this earlier, there was no way you could’ve blamed it on Alfred. He was simply following Mr Wayne’s orders, and that was to keep you away from anything relating to the madman himself.

“Fine. Then tell me where Mr Wayne is, and I’ll confront him myself.”

“That’s the thing, miss Y/N. Master Wayne has been on a league mission for the past few weeks, but I haven’t heard from him. I myself have been trying to track down his coordinates but to no avail.”

Now that was strange. Disappearing for quite a while wasn’t deemed unusual in Mr Wayne’s books. But more than a week? That was definitely a red flag, and someone must look into this matter.

Taking in a deep sigh as you were overwhelmed with everything happening, you calmed yourself down and spoke to Alfred in a low voice.

“I’ll find the answers to all of them.”

You decided to head back to the rooftops of GCPD, where the Batsignal was located. Commissioner Gordon often used it to signal to summon the Bat Family whenever they needed help. But it seemed as if the searchlight was destroyed and torn apart—revealing that whoever had done this definitely held a grudge against you and your squad.

You did contemplate using it to reach out to Batman, but with this option down, you were now back to square one.

If Alfred cannot contact Mr Wayne through transmissions, then you wouldn’t stand a chance either.

God. Think, Batgirl. There’s got to be a way to contact—

“It seemed as if the rumours were true after all.”

You were startled by the sudden voice coming from behind you. As a common reflex, you immediately throw a punch towards the individual’s face—only to be stopped by their hand grabbing onto your fist. Once you got a glimpse of who it was, your eyes widened.

“Nightwing.”

“Ah, I see you have heard about me before. Then that saves up the trouble of having to introduce myself. Also, sorry about startling you. It’s my fault.”

As both of you backed down and composed yourselves, you finally got a good look at the individual standing before you. He was tall and definitely well-built (a little too well-built to your liking actually); he wore a black with some outlines of a blue suit and a domino mask. Even through the mask, he was a pretty darn good-looking individual.

“Ogling at my beauty during our first meeting already?” He teased.

“Are all Robins meant to be this flirty?” You shot back. He chuckled and his voice somehow lightens up the mood for a bit.

“Ah, so you knew about my backstory.”

“Well, I learned about you through the files Mr Wayne kept in his office a decade ago. Consider that a time when I will snooping around his stuff because I was curious about many things.”

“Bruce definitely has loads of secrets that he keeps from others, alright.” He shook his head, thinking that his former mentor was still the same old individual he had known for many decades.

As far as you know, Nightwing was the first Robin and has worked alongside Batman for many years, even longer than you and Changmin ever did. He was a former circus acrobat when he was younger, so his skills and agility had to be one of the toughest Gotham City—or rather, the league has ever seen. At one point, you have once heard that the league has appointed him to look over the younger superheroes, the Teen Titans, from time to time. So he has got plenty of things on his hands to deal with.

But there was one question that has pondered you for long enough. One that you knew you could never ask Mr Wayne and Alfred themselves because they definitely weren’t comfortable bringing up this topic.

Nightwing somehow knew this topic would come up eventually, and he decided to indulge in your curiosity for the time being. Leaning back towards the headlight, he crossed his arms and told you about his backstory.

“To begin with, Bruce had taken me in ever since my parent’s murder when I was 8. He trained me to be a soldier, his sidekick and I’ve never left his side for 20 years. But you know what they say—when the time comes for the baby birds to leave the nest, then there is no explanation needed.”

“So you left willingly?” You questioned.

“In a way, yeah. Now I mainly patrol crimes in Blüdhaven, occasionally returning to Gotham City to assist Bruce and the team if needed. Commissioner Gordon seems to really enjoy my company after all.”

The way he spoke lit up the mood, and you could tell how he was definitely worth being the first Robin. Anyone would agree on how behind that jovial and friendly smile he possessed, he could be one of the most feared individuals on the battlefield.

Given that he was trained by the one and only Bruce Wayne himself, he has then gained insane human strength, speed, agility, and even reflexes. He was definitely the type you would want to anger the least—otherwise, you would definitely find yourself being killed by the 50,000 volts of Escrima Sticks that he always carried on his back.

If a superhero like him is back in Gotham City during such a right timing, you assume he’s probably back for the same reason as you did, more or less.

“Say, are you perhaps back for The Joker?”

“Yeah, but there’s more to that. The Justice League has contacted me to investigate Bruce’s disappearance as they couldn’t contact him for a week now.”

Disappearance? Now that’s new for you. You knew that he was away for some league missions, but never would you have thought that he would actually disappear.

Could he have done it himself for an unspecified reason? Or worse, has Mr Wayne fallen into the traps of the enemy?

Now that is something you definitely have to look into as well—because finding him would be the key to knowing about Changmin’s faked death for the past several years.

“Count me in, Nightwing.”

“Woah, slow down Batgirl. What makes you think you would wanna come along with me?”

“Well, for one, the current Joker is somehow the former Robin that we all thought he died. But I’ve just encountered him days prior, and he is very much alive and well. And I need answers.” You firmly stated, and you did not take no for an answer. Clearly, Nightwing had sensed that in you and knew there was no point in convincing you otherwise.

“Hmm, this seems more like a romantic couple reunion situation to me.” He teased.

He wasn’t wrong though.

“He’s family and I deserve to know, Nightwing. Please.” You emphasised the last word while taking a few steps closer to him as you stared into his eyes.

He looked at you for a few seconds before he eventually put on a smile. He gently laid his hands on your head and patted you. “Alright, girlie. Let’s figure out where would be the best place to look for them.”

Just when he finished his statement, a radio transmission was sent in through his earpiece, and he shared one of them with you to hear the message.

“Reports have stated that there were sightings of The Joker near the ports, and he has gotten several hostages with him. All officers on duty, please report to the site at once!”

“Then that’s where we’re headed, sweetheart.”

Immediately, you got your batclaw out, ready to start swinging across the buildings to head to your destination. You looked at Nightwing in confusion as he stood there and stretched his muscles.

“Well, aren’t you leaving too?”

“Oh no, you get to the location first. Don’t worry, I’ll catch up in no time. I was a former acrobat, after all. Don’t need no batclaw to swing around buildings.” He winked, and you rolled your eyes back slightly as you started to get used to his flirty remarks.

Before you made your move, he spoke to you one last time before you two were to part ways for a bit.

“Call me, Sangyeon. It’s much better than repeating my superhero name all the time.”

Just as you reached the port's entrance, Gotham City had to start a heavy downpour, making the situation much worse.

But it wasn’t something you weren’t used to since you have been in such conditions before on several missions. However, since the motive tonight was to find both Changmin and Mr Wayne, you couldn’t help but feel nervous, something that you haven’t experienced in a while.

At least not since that fateful day 5 years ago.

Shaking your thoughts away, you calmed yourself down and reminded yourself that the hostages come first, then family.

You ran to the gates but saw that they were already hacked open. Just then, Sangyeon jumps down from one of the higher buildings and places his hands on one of your shoulders.

“They don’t call me a hacking wizard for nothing.”

“Well, guess I have a rival in this field of work now.” You chuckled.

“Alright, let’s go.”

As you both entered the ports, a group of thugs were already on standby, as if they were expecting your arrival hours ago. Each of them was armed with a weapon, ready to put up a fight.

Sangyeon then gets both of his Escrima Sticks out from his back and positions himself in his offensive state.

“Wanna see the famous Nightwing himself in action?”

“Just be careful out there.” You replied.

“Always have been.”

As soon as the thugs began charging towards your direction, the both of you did the same, beginning to take down the enemies one by one.

It seemed that Sangyeon wasn’t all talk and thought highly about himself because you’ve now witnessed how skilled and quick he is at combat with your own eyes. He could take out at least 4 at once, leaving no room for them to retaliate. None of them stood a chance against the superhero himself—quite frankly, he could handle them all on his own if needed.

You have definitely improved from 5 years ago too. You were now much quicker and your skills have upped a level—handling several enemies simultaneously. With the new gadgets that Alfred has equipped you with, you definitely found it a lot easier to deal with the enemies and not just entirely rely on pure brute strength.

Within 10 minutes, both of you have successfully wiped out the entire thugs, and they were all lying lifelessly on the ground, allowing you to move on to find the hostages.

“Well, aren’t you a rather good fighter yourself, Batgirl.” Sangyeon was surely impressed with the way you presented yourself tonight.

“Now that’s flattering coming from the former Robin himself.” You counterbacked, and you earned a laugh from the man himself.

“This isn’t over yet, Y/N. There are definitely more thugs lurking around the area. I suggest we split up and take on each side, and I’ll let you know if I come up with anything.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

“Let me know if you need help, okay? You’re not in this alone.”

Thanks, Sangyeon. It means a lot. “I’ll contact you soon.”

Splitting up, you decided to take on the right side of the ports, defeating the thugs in your way as you slowly made your way through. Eventually, you found hostages along your way, and you freed them by using your batclaw to cut through the ropes they were tied up with, and they ran to their safety towards the GCPD at the front entrance.

Finally, you have reached the last destination that you could’ve scooped out for any remaining hostages, the lighthouse.

Fingers crossed, you were mentally praying before making the move that Changmin would be there.

It seemed that you had deduced your theory correctly, and sure enough, he was there—holding up several hostages, ready to throw them down into the deep, freezing ocean.

“CHANGMIN STOP!!” You screamed, and that got his attention.

He turned back to look at you, and his eyes widened upon the contact. It was you again; this time, he wasn’t wearing a mask anymore.

It seemed as if he hadn't recovered from the encounter days prior because he was beginning to malfunction again, and how badly you just wanted to help him by taking him back for good now.

“Please… Changmin. Let us talk. Please, talk to me about it.” You begged, and unknowingly tears began to form in your eyes.

Immediately, he dropped the hostages down onto the concrete floor, and they quickly ran for it. His attention was now entirely on you, eyes widened while trying to make sense of everything.

“Y/N… I… All these years later… I can’t…”

“No Changmin. You can, and you will come back to us.”

Come back to me.

“What have I done? I’m… I’m a monster now, a terrifying criminal and psychopath. I’m beyond saving.” He now stares down at his bloodied, shaking hands, and his speech begins to stammer.

“No, you just need to press reset. And we will help with that.”

Let me help you.

“Why? Why, Y/N? After all these years and everything?” Tears were now beginning to form in his as well, and he was trying his best to hold them back.

“Because I love you and have always been after all these years.”

You were now slowly taking one step at a time closer to him, and he slowly did the same but backwards.

“Y/N… No, you can’t.”

“I can and I will. I have longed for you endlessly, and I always find myself coming back to you, even if you are no longer Robin.”

“That’s not true.”

“It is. And I will prove it to you.”

Changmin was now pinned against the guardrails of the lighthouse and he was stuck with nowhere to run. You were now standing right in front of him—centimetres apart, when you gently laid your palms onto both sides of his face, slowly rubbing away the white makeup that sat on his face.

He then looks down at you, standing motionless before muttering a quiet: “I warn you. I’ll break your heart.”

You smiled back at him. “I know you more than you know yourself, cowboy. Fill me more with that dangerous love of yours—there’s nothing Batgirl can’t take on anyways.”

With that, you quickly took Changmin into your embrace, and the tears that formed within his eyes began to drip down slowly.

Yes, Changmin. I’m here now. I will protect you from all of this madness—

That short-lived moment was then interrupted abruptly as that familiar chilling voice from years ago started to haunt you.

“My my, what do we have here? A little family reunion, isn’t it?”

Both of you turned behind to see the real Joker standing in front of you, with a syringe containing a rather intriguing green liquid, while having a group of thugs behind him.

You and Changmin were now cornered, and there was no way to escape. It seemed as if history was repeating itself.

“Damn, I guess the dose wasn’t enough for that Robin boy to take on my persona fully. I guess the test was an ultimate failure.” He was now flicking the syringe bottle; his eyes were now entirely on you.

“Hmm.. maybe another test subject would be worth trying out… someone whose name rhymes with Batgirl.”

The Joker was taunting you and moving closer to you now. You had to think of something quickly because clearly, Changmin was in no state of fighting back. You could use one of your gadgets for close-range combat, but given the number of enemies you were up against, there was only a 50% success rate.

Maybe I could use a smoke bomb to distract them while I think of something real quick—

“Batgirl!! Dodge and leave right now! Trust me!!”

That voice. It was Sangyeon. You quickly redirected your attention to the opposite building across the lighthouse. He was now equipped with several explosive batarangs, and is now aiming towards your direction. Once he let go and threw them towards you, you quickly grabbed Changmin and jumped straight down into the cold, freezing ocean.

As soon as you both touched down into the waters, the explosion went off and the parts of the lighthouse came crumbling down along with the enemies that were on it.

Before you knew it, both of you were slowly beginning to lose air before finally being fully engulfed by the ocean waves.

It has been a few days since that encounter with The Joker himself at the port. When you dived into the ocean, you tried your best to swim towards the shore while carrying Changmin with you—despite the constant moments where the ocean waves would engulf you both while trying to swim back up again. As soon as you reached dry land, you immediately passed out before seeing Sangyeon coming to both of your rescue.

When you finally came to, you were left with just a few minor scratches and nothing major. You demanded to know where Changmin was and eventually found it lying on the operation table—the same one you were lying on 5 years ago. An oxygen mask was attached around his face, along with an IV drip by the side.

According to Alfred, it seemed that Changmin was systematically subjected to a wide range of shock therapy and torture over the few years that he was captured alive by the psychopath himself. Eventually, Joker decided to take things a step ahead and injected various serums into his body, eventually leading to his breakdown. Hence, he decided to let Changmin take over his identity for a period of time while he went into hiding.

It was definitely a lot and hard to take in for you. You couldn’t imagine how brutal it was for Changmin over the past few years, all wounded and injured from that fateful day, only to be taken back to The Joker’s lair and left to experience all of the barbaric tortures he had up his sleeve.

You stood right at the windows of the operating room, placing your hand on it while trying your best to hold back your tears. This went on for a few days—it was best to let him rest after all.

Sangyeon was staying for a while as he was still on the mission to track down Mr Wayne’s location, and he would often check up on you as well, ensuring you that Changmin would be alright and he would wake up real soon.

All you could do at this point was hope for the best and that Changmin would return to his usual self when he woke.

The bright glaring lights blinded Changmin’s eyes as he finally struggled to open them up. Once he has finally adjusted his sight, he tries to make sense of his surroundings.

He was back at the Batcave—all patched up and had an IV drip right into his arms. He tried turning his head around, trying to take in everything as he struggled to regain his memory.

And that was when he remembered that the both of you were up at the lighthouse, desperately trying to escape The Joker.

Almost immediately after that thought, a pair of arms wrapped around him tightly as he tried to sit up from his bed.

It was you whom he had been longing to see.

God, how much he had missed your embrace. Your scent, the warmth you gave, and your bright, bubbly persona that radiates whenever you are around him.

And now he’s back to witness it all close-up.

He returned the hug to you, squeezing a little tightly and clinging onto you for dear life. He wouldn’t let you go anytime soon, and he wants to savour the moment and make it up to you after being away for years. He slowly turned his head to take the sweet strawberry scent of your hair—ah, you were still using his favourite shampoo. He couldn’t help but to also rest his lips on your scalp as well.

“Changmin… I don’t even know where to begin…” You muffled since you were squeezed into his big muscular chest.

“Let’s just stay like this for a while, hmm?”

Silence. But it wasn’t awkward in the slightest bit. Instead, you both appreciated it—a lot was happening in both of your minds.

He’s back. He was back in his comfort zone, former residence, and home.

You were his home.

There were just so many things he regretted back then too, how he wasn’t able to save you and ended up being held captive and tortured by The Joker himself. Most importantly, he regretted that he couldn’t tell you how he felt about you, especially when he had seen you more than just a friend and sidekick for years.

But now that he was alive and back in the game, it was his chance.

Gently grabbing your shoulders, he pushes you away so that you look at him deep into his eyes. He takes in a big breath before he decides to spill the beans. What he didn’t expect was that you spat out the same exact thing that has been lingering on his mind, word by word.

“So uh, I thought you should know that I’ve had feelings for you for years now.” You both said at the same time. It took a few seconds for the both of you to process what the hell actually happened before bursting out in loud laughter.

“Gee, Y/N. And I thought it has been one-sided for years, and all those flirty remarks I’ve made were just for show, and my efforts have gone down the drain.”

“Well, I’m pleased to tell you those flirty remarks worked.”

You both giggled before Changmin decided to press on. “So when did this lovey-dovey feeling start?”

“Maybe around when I was 12?”

“Hah! I win. I’ve liked you ever since you came into the slumps.”

“That isn’t a victory, Changmin. It just shows how whipped you have always been and how easily you actually fall in love with someone.”

“Hey, it's not my fault when my love interest is actually a rockstar who excels at everything she does. Mind you, she is the best computer wizz I’ve ever seen with that long luscious brown hair of hers.”

“Yeah, you’re insufferable.” You huffed.

“But admit it, you like it.” He winked back at you, causing you to slap him on the chest while rolling your eyes back.

It was when he decided to lean in a bit closer while gently placing his fingers around your chin, lifting your face so that he could see you clearly.

“Since my princess literally saved my life, it is time for her prince charming to return the favour, no?”

You gave him a confused look. “Whatever are you planning, Mr. Ji Changmin.”

“Something that starts with the letter K.”

He then swipes his finger on your lips to feel those luscious, juicy lips once before crashing his onto yours. And he was right all these years, after all—on how good they tasted, and it was definitely a kiss that was worth the wait and savouring.

You didn’t reject it at all and proceeded to adjust your position so that it was easier to ease into the kiss. Tilting both of your heads to grant more entrance while your fingers moved up into his hair, Changmin did the same while his other hand rested on your waist.

How badly he wished to stay like this forever. To kiss you, hold you tight, and never let go nor fail you again. He made a promise to himself this time that he was definitely not going to repeat the same mistake, and he was no longer going to hurt anyone else.

Including you.

The intense moment was abruptly cut short by a low grunt coming from behind. It was Sangyeon.

“Well, it seems as if I have chosen the wrong timing, haven’t I?”

Oh, how badly you knew he somehow did it on purpose. You were definitely going to make him pay real soon.

Changmin being innocent, brushes him off and asks if something was the matter (since, technically, he hasn’t encountered how flirty he could be).

“I’m here to ask you about Bruce. I’m sure you have some information that is worth hearing about.” Sangyeon then crossed his arms, and immediately his facial expression shifted, and you both knew well that it was time to get back into business.

Once Alfred came to ensure that Changmin could continue his daily routine as usual, Sangyeon immediately cut to the chase and began pressing on the topic of importance.

“It was definitely a recent thing, I would say. The Joker tortured me for a few years before finally making me into his other half to take over his dirty job for him while he disappeared into thin air. And it was recently when I actually saw how he was dragging a body down into the basement of his lair. If it aligns with what you have in mind, then I’m sure it is worth checking it out.”

All of you pondered what Changmin said. It could be Mr Wayne who was under the hands of The Joker at the moment. According to Sangyeon, there have been reports of sightings of the man on the most recent site where Mr Wayne was last seen.

“So that would be the first place for us to look at, I suppose?” Changmin questioned.

“Supposedly, yes,” Sangyeon answered bluntly.

Just as all of you would start gearing up to head out to the place of interest, the batcomputer began blaring—it was from Commissioner Gordon. Picking up the call, all of you were met with a very distraught commissioner. Something must’ve happened.

“You guys have to see this right now.”

Immediately, the commissioner forwards a link that redirects all of you to a live webcam.

It was live. And there on screen sat a badly wounded individual, tied up on a wooden chair with only a single light bulb above his head as their only light source.

It was Batman.

The Joker swiftly turned the camera towards him, and he placed this huge menacing grin on his face, knowing that he was up to no good once again.

“Welcome, my fellow watchers to tonight’s grand show! Ah, it seems as if the entire GCPD & the Bat Family are here to witness the epic performance of the century!!”

The Joker then turns the camera back to Batman as he begins circling him, continuing with his act.

“Now, I’m pretty sure we all recognise this lovely individual right here. Isn’t it a bummer how he’s all wounded up badly? When he is supposed to be the strongest superhero in Gotham City?” He began laughing and then slowly stood behind Mr Wayne, bending down to rest his hands on Batman’s shoulders.

“It seemed as if my very first experiment had failed terribly, given that Robin had escaped thanks to Batgirl & Nightwing. Perhaps the 10,000 volts of shock therapy & the dosage of my serum weren’t enough throughout the years Robin was held captive at my lair. But fear not, ladies and gentlemen! For I have a new subject now, the famous Batman himself, and I wonder what would happen if I turn him into a Joker?”

The madman then walked over towards the right, and his hand gripped the latch of a switch, and all of you wished you did not have to witness what came next.

Pulling down the latch, it triggered the shock machine and Batman was screaming at the top of his lungs, clearly in a lot of pain while the high electricity flowed through his entire body. It went on for a good 10 seconds before The Joker finally decided to turn it off. Then, he walks towards the front of the camera, completely blocking Batman out of the picture.

“Here’s my suggestion, fellow Bat Family and the officers at GCPD. I will be kind enough to tell you my location. Come to the abandoned Nightville Amusement Park in an hour. I’m pretty sure your “father” here would want his children to come save his ass, no?”

The Joker then laughed menacingly again before ending the livestream.

Oh my god.

Batman is now in the hands of The Joker. And he has clearly shown all of you that he wasn’t kidding and meant serious business. If neither of you were careful, Mr Wayne would be next in line to get killed.

All of you will definitely have to come up with an actual plan and strategy before heading to the site, and this time you will stop this whole fiasco the psychopath himself has planned.

Thankfully, that was where Sangyeon came in and he began to take charge of everything and everyone as he gathered both sides to listen closely to his words.

“Are you with me, lads?”

The clock struck strictly at 10 at night as the three of you arrived at the amusement park. Based on Sangyeon’s lead, he deemed it too dangerous for the officers to tag along at first. The plan was to let the three clear out the place until 80% of the thugs were wiped out, and then the GCPD would step in and scope the place out. Commissioner Gordon couldn’t agree more.

On the other hand, Alfred remained at his position in the Batcave in front of the monitor screen, keeping you three updated with everything going on around your surroundings while being the middle person to communicate to the GCPD upon Sangyeon’s orders.

As you three stood in front of the amusement park gates, Sangyeon decided to break the ice and loosen the atmosphere for a bit. He focused on Changmin, who was clearly doing a few stretches here and there.

“So how does it feel to be back in the Robin suit, young lad?”

“Is it bad that the suit’s gotten a little tighter?”

“Well, guess that’s some good news for you, Batgirl.” He then poked his head out to look at you, who were standing on the far right side.

Dear heavens, Lee Sangyeon. I swear, for the love of God—

“What about yours, mister? I’m sure all of the time that’s gone to leading the Teen Titans and patrolling Blüdhaven has taken a toll on your romantic relationship.” You fought back, but clearly, he doesn’t back down easily.

“Nah, I have my ways. She’ll come back to me when she’s bored and lonely. She always has been anyway.”

Huh. So he does have a certain special someone. That is definitely going to be added to your books of “things to stalk more about Nightwing’s dirty secrets”.

Clearing your throat to bring everyone back to reality, you turned your head back to the entrance, where all of you began to hear the footsteps growing louder each second.

“Mr Lee, there’s about 60 thugs headed your way. Be prepared.” Alfred’s voice chimed into the intercom.

“Well, 60 is just a number.” Sangyeon proclaimed.

“So what do we do now?” You asked.

Then, Changmin stepped forward and stood in front of you both. “We fight.”

Immediately, he charged towards one of the thugs and wrapped his legs around his neck, pinning him down to the ground and punching him hard enough to knock the individual out cold. Not wasting any time, he began moving onto the thugs one after another.

“Gee, your boyfriend’s one impatient little fella, isn’t he?”

“And so are you, Nightwing.”

You and Sangyeon did the same by charging towards the enemies. It was as if the tension and atmosphere were different tonight, and you felt the company that you had been longing for years. With both Robin and Nightwing with you, you knew that you were all in good hands and reaching The Joker himself wouldn’t be a problem this time round.

The three of you worked amazingly as a team, performing a combo of attacks and matching one another’s fighting style almost instantly, even though it was the first time the three of you fought together. Sangyeon was definitely impressed, to say the least, that Bruce had gotten himself some good young sidekicks to fill in his spot after he had left. He was smiling like a proud older brother would as he looked at how you and Changmin battled.

The enemy was successfully wiped out within 10 minutes thanks to the great teamwork. With that, the screen from one of the televisions that hung loosely at one of the lamp posts started broadcasting what seemed like a live message.

The Joker.

“Well well, I must say, an amazing job well done as a team!! Bravo bravo, you three have certainly exceeded my expectations! Now, moving deeper into the parks will not be that easy. So choose wisely and find out where Batman and I could be. Adios for now!!”

“God, will he stop with all of these taunts?” You complained, getting sick and frustrated with all of his jokes by now.

Changmin then walked close to you and placed one of his hands on your shoulder. “It’s okay, Y/N. We will definitely get Mr Wayne back home safely.”

“Yeah… we will this time.” You tried your best to return a smile.

Sangyeon then makes his way towards you both to inform you that it was best to split up to narrow down the possible location where The Joker and Batman could be. Before he could even suggest the plan, you gripped Changmin’s hands tightly, intertwining your fingers with his.

“I suppose you wouldn’t mind Robin and Batgirl taking on one side of the park, right?”

Sangyeon stared at you both for a moment, and you were clearly not budging, standing firm to prove that you were taking no as an answer.

He immediately sighed and agreed to your request. “Okay okay, lovebirds. Just make sure to do your actual job.”

You swear if it weren’t for him being your senior and part of the Bat Family, you would’ve whooped his ass and sent him back to his rightful place.

“Alright, jokes aside. Both of you, please contact me as soon as you find out something. Don’t even try to act bravely and jump into your demise. I mean it.”

It all sounded too familiar. It was precisely what Mr Wayne said to the both of you 5 years ago. The Sangyeon that stood before you now wasn’t the flirty yet annoying senior you have come to despise. Now this man is feared across the nation, and one you would look up to actually. He was the spitting image of Batman.

“Understood, Sangyeon. You should be careful out there too.” Changmin said firmly.

“Kiddo, I always have been.”

Within seconds he was out of sight, jumping down towards the other side of the park as he made his way quickly through the thugs.

“So, what do you suggest we do then, miss Y/N? You clearly asked me to stay with you.”

“Well, for starters, let’s look around and get rid of the thugs along our way to find Mr Wayne as soon as possible. Find The Joker, put him behind bars, and that’s a wrap.”

“Sounds good to me. Lead the way, Batgirl.”

Both of you went to each section of the park and searched every crook and corner to see if there were any traces or clues to where both of them might be.

If you were to deduce, according to the live footage—they were either at higher ground or beneath the amusement park. You tried searching for a latch which would lead you down but to no avail.

It was when Changmin finally called out to you as he noticed one of the buildings furthest from you had a little light source coming out from it. It led up to one of the roller coaster rides, and the stairs were clearly destroyed so that the officers could not reach high ground alone.

Only those of you equipped with the batclaw could swing your way up to the building itself.

On both of your signals, you both immediately launched your batclaw and quickly made your way towards the source, hoping that it was finally where your mentor would be.

Please, Mr Wayne. Please hang in there. We’re coming.

“Hmm… it seems as if your kids are taking a little longer, don’t you think? The Joker was now swinging his pistol around his hands, growing impatient as there was no sign of either of you coming anytime soon.

That was when Batman slowly tilted his head up as he tried his best to mutter a few words back to counterattack his remarks.

“Don’t… underestimate my kids… they’re a lot… stronger than… you think they are…”

The Joker immediately threw a punch right into Batman’s face once again. “You know clearly that’s not the right answer, no?”

“Well, clearly you aren’t thinking straight, Joker.”

His eyes widened as he turned towards the source of where the voice came from. When he finally did, he found Changmin already in position with a few shurikens within the palm of his hands, and you did the same while holding onto your batclaw.

“Why, if it isn’t my wonderful “son” back in town! How have you been? Papa has missed you loads.”

“It’s over, Joker. Your spree of crimes ends tonight and you’re finally going to jail after all these years.” Changmin declared.

“Disrespecting your papa, I see. Well, then. I’m sorry but it seems like I will have to teach you and your little girlfriend a lesson then.” The Joker slowly walked towards you with a group of thugs emerging from the shadows behind. Just like 5 years ago, they were all equipped with their weapons, the right to strike whenever.

“Y/N, let’s do our usual formation?”

“Say no more, Robin.”

Both sides struck simultaneously, and a heated battle soon erupted within the building. With the batclaw in hand, you use it to shoot to get the thugs close to you as you knock them out cold with your punches and kicks. Changmin, on the other hand, used his shurikens wisely and aimed at all of the thugs, not missing a target.

The Joker managed to get this way close towards you both, but he always seemed to have missed his shot or he was often caught by either of you two, pulling him close and throwing punches while he backed off to regain himself.

As all of the thugs were wiped out, The Joker was now the one being cornered by you two, and he clearly did not stand a chance.

“Hah! Don’t even think that you’re about to win!” He reaches into his back pocket and pulls up a vile of green liquid. However, judging from the container that was used this time, it wasn’t an ordinary serum now.

No. A poison gas bomb!

“I guess you know what this means then. That saves a lot of trouble. Robin, this is for you!” The Joker was about to throw it at Changmin when he finally decided to change direction and threw it towards you instead.

“Y/N! No!!!” Changmin quickly jumps onto you to push you out of the way as the poison gas bomb detonates.

But he was in no luck as Nightwing made his way here in time, destroying it before the gas spread around too much. At the same time, The Joker was pinned down by the one and only Batman, who was now free from being tied up thanks to Sangyeon.

The GCPD officers then made their way here along with the commissioner as they handcuffed the psychopath and started taking him away.

“This isn’t over, Bat Family!! I will be back to haunt Gotham City again!!” Those were the sentences that The Joker kept repeating on a loop till he was out of the picture.

Eventually, Mr. Wayne made his way toward you and brought you both into his embrace.

“I knew you both could’ve done it. Welcome home, Robin.”

Those words were enough to get you both all teary-eyed, primarily for Changmin though. He had longed to be reunited with his mentor, and how much he wanted to apologise for all of the trouble he had caused over the years.

“Mr Wayne…I—”

“It’s not your fault, and it was beyond your control. I’m sorry I failed you as your mentor. And father.”

He rests his chin upon Changmin’s head and closes his eyes before muttering something for you too. “You too, Batgirl. You have grown and I’m beyond proud of you.”

You have yet to hear Mr. Wayne praise you like that. He doesn’t talk much, nor has he ever praised you in such a manner since he wasn’t really great with words. Hearing that from Mr Wayne himself, after all of what you’ve been through, was surely enough to get you bawl your eyes out in front of him.

Sangyeon notices the little heartwarming family reunion and he can’t help but smile from afar. It was nice seeing how Bruce has gotten a new family on his own, and he is happy how you two were given a new life and beginning with him. A few seconds later, he decided not to interrupt, turned his heel in the opposite direction and started walking away. That is until Bruce’s voice stops him in his tracks.

“Nightwing. Or rather, Sangyeon. Thank you.”

He hasn’t heard those words from Bruce either in a very long time. Every time they met, Mr. Wayne often gave him a cold shoulder as he tended to focus more on the mission and rather cut to the chase. But Sangyeon knew that he had always been like that—it was just his way of worrying about his former sidekick. And how Sangyeon will always have a special place in Bruce’s heart.

Without turning back, he raised one of his arms and began waving. “I’ll see you around, Bruce. Don’t get caught next time.”

Mr Wayne chuckled for the first time in a while. “I won’t.”

A couple of days had passed since that day and it was time that the Bat Family took some time off to rest up and relax.

Mr Wayne was stuck in his room most of the time, with Alfred constantly checking up on him—bringing him his meals and checking his vitals to ensure that he wasn’t pushing himself too hard during recovery. Knowing him, Mr Wayne is definitely the type to wander around and get himself busy even when he is in no shape to stand up or perform his daily routines as usual.

On the other hand, you and Changmin have been spending as much time as you could with one another. It wasn’t easy when Alfred often dragged Changmin down to the sick room, claiming that he hadn’t fully recovered and had no time to play around. You had to muffle up a laugh whenever you see Alfred taking him away to his second home now.

It was a relatively calm afternoon as you decided to curl up with a novel in your room. Every so often, you would be reminded of what Mr. Wayne had told you last night about everything that has happened until now.

First and foremost, he apologised for keeping you in the dark about Changmin’s condition as he was afraid of losing you as well, and he wanted to keep you safe from The Joker as much as he could. But when you encountered Changmin at the GCPD, he knew his secret wouldn’t last long.

He has been keeping track of both of your movements even when he was away on league missions, having elicited the help of Alfred. When you helped Changmin escape from the lighthouse, he knew that The Joker was definitely going to target you next without a doubt. Hence, he decided to surrender himself as bait—knowing fully that you both would definitely come to the rescue. At the same time, it also saves time in finding out The Joker’s actual hideout.

As much as you thought he could be insane at times, you knew his methods somehow always work, and he has definitely thought them through. Giving a little scolding to Mr Wayne was all that you could do before it was time for him to rest up.

Returning to your novel, you slowly reached the story's climax until you felt someone gently hit your head with a book.

Changmin.

“Hey, what was that for!”

“Someone has been too invested or daydreaming to the point that she hasn’t heard me call out her name for over 10 times now.” He crossed his arms while giving you a pout.

“Ugh, please don’t do that face, for goodness sake.”

“Why? Because you like it?” He purposely widens his eyes ever so slightly.

“You need to go see a therapist for real, Changmin.”

Standing up from your couch, you decided to tuck your book away before walking towards him and wrapping your arms around his waist.

“So, what brings you here today?” You asked while giving a little peck on his lips.

“Well.” He pecks your lips back. “Alfred said that I’m fully recovered and I should be able to return to my usual routine with no problem.”

“Should. Changmin.” You emphasised the word.

“Hey, I’ll prove to you that I am one healthy man. What do you say? Shall we go out on our first date?”

“Hmm, tempting. Where are we going exactly?”

“Well, for starters, I still have to treat you to your favourite Akamaru Ramen that I promised 5 years ago.”

A/N: who knows i might cook up a nightwing Sangyeon fic in the near future 🤭

masterlist

taglist: @deoboyznet @kflixnet @k-films @flwoie @hokupi @zzoguri @kyusqult @tinkerbell460 @cheonsafics @sulkygyu @jaerisdiction @lngwayup

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weareapackofstrays · 1 month

Text

Come Light Me Up // Ji Changmin

Genre: Non-Idol college au, classmates to lovers?

Pairing: Changmin (Q) x F!Reader

Warnings: Smut, Cursing, Masturbation. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

Word Count: 3,305

A/n: Loosely inspired by a dream I had last night. Wrote this one quickly so there will probably be some mistakes. Graphics by @saradika-graphics!

It was the start of a new semester. While the first day of classes made some students nervous, you looked forward to it. Everything smelled like fresh books, paper, and ink. There were only two more semesters left until graduation and you couldn’t contain your excitement. A few of your classes this semester were completely online, which was convenient for you since you had to take on a few extra shifts to pay for this year's books and labs.

After clicking the zoom link to start your first class of the day, you scan over the 20 or so faces blinking back at you for anyone familiar. While you recognize a few students from previous classes, one unfamiliar face grabs your attention most. Your eyes fall on a man who you had not seen before. He is dressed in a simple black t-shirt and grey sweats. You notice he is sitting on his bed as if he just woke up and his ruffled dark hair definitely looks suspiciously like bedhead. He was too casual and it irked you. While you weren’t a perfectionist, you still felt like how you presented yourself on the first day of class set a precedent for the rest of the semester. You force your attention away from him to focus on your Professor’s greetings.

As class progressed you kept catching yourself staring at the student who you learned was named Changmin. He seemed so uninterested in class and it looked like something was distracting him off camera. It annoyed you and you weren’t sure why. Did you find him attractive? Of course. Changmin was very good looking, but he gave off douchey vibes so you did your best to pay him no mind. A task that would prove difficult.

The days pass by and you still find yourself totally bothered by this guy. Your eyes kept finding Changmin on the screen every time you attended class. And to make things worse, even though he never seemed like he was listening to the lecture, he still got every answer correct when the professor asked. It was starting to piss you off. I’m sure if anyone was watching you they could visibly see your annoyance and unbeknownst to you, someone was watching. Sometimes you would catch Changmin’s eyes staring right into the camera and you could swear they were looking back at you. But there was no way…right?

If there was anything he was paying attention to, it was you. Changmin noticed you on the first day of class too and every time you popped up on the screen he would look you over. He found it amusing the way you would be dressed up, make up done, even for a Zoom class. Like today for example, your hair was in a half updo, clipped back with a large pink bow. You were wearing what he assumed was either a blouse or dress with puffy white sleeves that only annoyingly teased your cleavage. He couldn’t tell if you had lipstick on, but your lips looked particularly glossy…and delicious. Changmin could tell you were the type to be a teacher’s pet and the idea of corrupting you started to quickly creep into his mind. He watched every facial expression of yours, noticing how excited you would get when you knew the answer to something and the way you’d grow agitated every time he beat you to the answer. Your perfect facade faltering before him. He especially loved the way your lips would pout when you were trying to concentrate. It drove him crazy. He could no longer hold back so he decided to take a chance.

During the third week of class, your Professor announced that there would be a test coming up this Friday. You tried to remain calm, but the thought of a test so soon gave you anxiety. A ding from your zoom chat pops up interrupting your thoughts. It’s a private message from a classmate. You squint at your screen to see who the message is from. Surely, you must be misreading. It was from Changmin?!

Changmin: hey, wanna study together?

You have not actually interacted with Changmin before, in fact, you're not even sure you have ever exchanged words. The extent of your interactions was usually him saying something that bothered you and you rolling your eyes at him several times throughout the class. You continue to stare at his message. Hesitating for a few more moments, you finally start to type. Changmin watches you intently, anticipating your reply.

Y/n: Why do you want to study with me?

Changmin smiles while reading your message.

Changmin: because we’re probably the only two in this class who actually give a shit

You snort, forgetting your audio is on and quickly rush to mute yourself. Changmin watches your cheeks turn pink with embarrassment and laughs. Even though the conversation is private, you still look around at the other classmates nervously wondering if they know what’s going on.

Changmin: you’re cute

You bite your lip to hold back a smile not wanting to give him the satisfaction. Changmin watches you roll your eyes at him, as you usually do, and it ignites his hunger further.

Y/n: Fine. Changmin: i’ll zoom you tomorrow night? Y/n: Sure, 8pm tomorrow then. Just ping me. Changmin: 8 is kind of late, no?

You glare at him briefly before responding.

Y/n: I get off work at 7:00 so I will need some time to get back and change. Changmin: sounds good. I’ll call you at 8pm sharp. Can’t wait!

Ignoring his last message, you turn your attention back to the Professor. Changmin can’t erase the grin on his face for the rest of class.

The next day you rush home after work to hop in the shower. Butterflies start to dance in your belly, but you do your best to shoo them away. You consider dressing up like you usually do for class, but worry Changmin will think you’re trying too hard. Ugh, why do you care what Changmin thinks, Y/n? You settle on a t-shirt and shorts with some cozy socks. Looking at the clock on your laptop, you start to feel the nerves as the time approaches 8pm. You continue to look at the clock and your watch every few seconds until finally the Zoom call notification pops up on your desktop. Shooting up from your chair, you quickly take a look in the mirror one last time to check your appearance before answering.

“Changmin.” You say simply, lacking any emotion.

“Y/n,” he responds with a hint of amusement.

You grab your textbook and open it. “I figured we could start from the beginning to refresh our memory first before diving into the most recent lectures.”

Changmin smiles, placing a pair of black rimmed glasses on. He looks good and he knows it. “Whatever you say.” He reaches for his book as well and opens it to the first chapter. “I’m all yours.” You grimace and give him a pointed look. He laughs and you watch the way his Adam's apple bobs on his long neck. He crosses his arms in front of him and your attention shifts to the curve of his biceps. Changmin is wearing a white t-shirt and what look to be his usual grey sweats. He notices your attention and tilts his head curiously. “Are we going to get started?” Your eyes dart up to meet his realizing you’ve been caught looking at him. You clear your throat and thumb through a few pages.

Changmin actually turns out to be a decent study partner and you're shocked at how thorough his notes are. After about 20 minutes into your study session, Changmin decides he’s bored and wants to change the subject.

“Why do you get dressed up for every class?” You look up from your note taking and cock an eyebrow at him.

“I could ask you the same.”

“But I don't.”

“Exactly.” You throw him a sarcastic smile. He smirks in response.

“So…?” He’s waiting for your answer. You sigh and place your pen down.

“Because I can.”

He nods. “Fair enough.”

“Why do you care?” you ask, resuming your writing.

Changmin places his thumb and index finger on his chin to ponder. When he doesn't immediately reply you look back up at him. “I suppose I just find it interesting when the rest of the class are practically in pajamas or off camera. Are you trying to impress someone?”

“Maybe I just like looking my best.”

“But right now you look pretty casual.”

You look down at your attire and internally curse. Maybe you should have dressed up. As if reading your thoughts, Changmin quickly adds, “Not that you don’t look good. I like the way you look tonight too.”

You’re not sure how to reply to his flirtation attempt so you try to get back on task.

“I think the Professor is definitely going to have chapter 3 on the exam. He dedicated two of our lectures to it so I think we should review our mutual notes.”

Changmin pushes back on his chair, balancing on the back legs. He places his hands behind his head. “Mhmm,” he simply hums in agreement. You look up from your book and notice Changmin’s shirt has ridden up, exposing his midriff. His stomach is taut and toned. You try to continue your thought, but end up stuttering over your words. He reaches down and rubs his abs and that’s when you notice the veins leading down his stomach disappearing into his briefs. Changmin’s legs are slightly parted, giving you a full view of his lean body.

“Um,” You try to compose yourself, but struggle. “We..um..page 46…” Words fail as you start to imagine where those thick veins lead to.

“What was that, Y/n? Didn’t quite catch what you said.” You look at him and frown. He’s teasing you and you know it.

“What are you doing?” You ask, impatience in your tone.

“I see the way you watch me in class, Y/n.” Pleasure shoots down your spine and you shiver.

Attempting to feign ignorance, you turn away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yes, you do. I watch you too. Every time I see you roll your eyes at me I think about stuffing my cock down your throat to teach you a lesson.” You drop the pen in your hand.

“Wh-what did you just say?”

Changmin leans into the camera. His eyes shift down to stare at your mouth. “I think about the way those pretty lips would feel wrapped around my dick.” He closes his eyes briefly and moans as if imagining it right now. “Drives me wild. I look forward to seeing you every class. Thinking about ways I can piss you off.”

“Changmin…you shouldn’t say these things,” you squeak.

“I’ll stop if you really want me to.” He leans back in his chair again and crosses his arms. The veins on his toned forearms poke out and you gulp at the thought of them around you, his hands gripping your neck. You shake your head to rid yourself of these thoughts. Changmin smirks and meets your eyes. “Do you want me to stop?” He palms his groin and you realize he’s hard.

“Fuck,” you say to yourself. Changmin places a hand around the outline of his dick and starts to stroke himself. You bite your lip as you watch him, feeling yourself growing wetter with each stroke. His eyes are on you as he slowly rubs up and down. A low groan escapes his throat.

“No,” you finally say.

“No what?” His voice is hoarse.

“No, don’t stop.”

Changmin pushes his sweats down slightly to give you a better view of his hard dick and for better access.

“Like what you see?” You nod enthusiastically and he chuckles.

“Does baby wanna see my cock?” You nod again.

“Use your words, Y/n,” he says sternly.

“Yes,” you whisper.

“I can’t hear you, baby.”

“Yes, I wanna see it.” Your voice is more confident.

“And what will you give me in return?”

Meeting his eyes, you ask, “What do you want, Changmin?”

“Take your shirt off.”

Completely committed to whatever this game is, you agree to pull your shirt over your head, leaving you just in your pink lacy bra.

“Mmm so pretty. What type of pants are you wearing?”

You tilt the screen of your laptop to give him a view of your whole body. You’re in a pair of sleep shorts. Pushing your desk chair out of the way, you stand. Changmin looks you up and down, finally getting the chance to admire your full form.

“Take your pants off, sweetheart.”

You shake your head. “Your shirt first.”

Changmin considers refusing you, but he thinks your demanding tone is hot and does as you say. His body is chiseled. You’re surprised at how tiny his waist is and it makes your mouth water. Starry eyed and mouth agape, you stare unabashedly now as he resumes touching himself.

“Y/n, take your shorts off.” He is growing impatient with each touch of his hand. You stand and drop them to the floor, revealing a matching pink lace thong.

“You got all dressed up for me, baby?”

“No…”

“I bet you wanted to show it off. Hoped this would happen, huh? Fucking slut.”

You scoff. “You’re so full of yourself.” Despite your words, you can feel how aroused you are. Feeling bold, you sit on the edge of your bed and spread your legs, giving him a view of your clothed pussy.

“Fuck, Y/n.” He starts to stroke himself faster.

“Take your pants off, Changmin.”

“Ooh, say my name again, baby!” he moans.

“Please Changmin,” you whine as need starts to take over you.

He stands and slides his sweats off. The head of his cock is peeking out of his briefs and you lean towards the camera a little for a better view. You want to touch yourself, but still feeling shy, you resign to rubbing your thighs instead. He sits back down, keeping his legs spread for you.

“I want to see your boobs.”

You chuckle and unhook your bra without hesitation. You're horny and want this as much as him now. He watches it fall to the ground. You move closer to the camera so he can see your breasts better and now his mouth drops. You smile at the way his body reacts to you.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous, Y/n. I just want to wrap my lips around your tits. Swirl my tongue until your nipples are hard.” You suck in a breath trying to hold back a moan. “Are they hard right now?” He wonders aloud.

You gently rub over your nipple knowing full well they’re erect. “Yes,” you say.

“Fuck I bet they taste amazing.”

“I wanna taste you, Min.” His eyes widen, surprised by your candor.

“Yeah, baby? Want me to fill your mouth with my come?” You nod eagerly.

“Let me see you,” you demand.

He shakes his head. “Need you to earn it, baby girl. What do I get in return if I take my cock out for you?” You take a moment to think, then sit back on your bed. Leaning on your hands, you spread your legs wide again and dip your fingers into your panties. A breathy moan escapes you at the contact. Changmin groans in response. “Yeah, baby. Touch yourself, like that.” You toss your head back at the feeling of your fingers on your sensitive clit. “Don’t take your eyes off of me, Y/n.” You face him again and continue to rub while he stares.

“Well?” You moan out. He nods understanding your question. Changmin lifts his waist and pushes his briefs off. His cock springs back, slapping against his abs while precum dripples down the sides. He looks so hard and you can tell he needs relief. You lick your lips at the sight of his long cock. “Touch yourself too, Changmin. Get off with me.”

“Fuck yeah, baby.” He spits in his hand and starts to fist his cock, squeezing his red tip with each pump. You pick up your pace, the sounds of your arousal and his slick fist echo around you. Your breathing starts to quicken and you can’t stop the moans that leave your lips. “Stick your fingers inside and pretend it’s me.” You do as you're told and try to reach your sensitive spot.

“Mmm not enough. I need you, baby,” you whine.

“I know, I wish I was there with you. Next time.”

“Next time?”

“Yeah, next time I’ll come over and fuck you for real.”

“Come over now then.”

“But you look so pretty touching yourself for me.” He tries to match your pace as you push in and out of yourself spreading your wetness back over your clit.

“Feels so good, Min. Wish you could have a taste.”

“Oh, fuuckkk. Baby, have a taste for me.” You pause momentarily, never having tasted yourself before, but you want to please him. Removing your fingers, you insert them into your mouth and sigh at the taste on your tongue. Changmin curses and starts to pump faster.

“Such a, fuck…such a good girl.” He can’t hide his moans anymore and you're surprised at how high pitched they are. It turns you on further so you return your fingers to your clit to rub harder. “I’m close, Y/n. So fucking close, but I wanna come with you.”

“Wait.” Impatiently, you take your panties off giving him a full view of your pussy. Changbin bites his lip as he looks over your body, watching the way your face contorts as you pleasure yourself. His orgasm is fast approaching.

“I can’t wait to fuck you, baby. I’m going to destroy you.” His words help bring you closer to your release, pleasure building with each bump to your clit. Your ministrations increase and you can feel the band about to snap.

“Min, I’m, I’m-” tears start to spring at the corners of your eyes. You’re so close. “Ah, ah, ah, ah.” Your cries increase.

“Yea, baby, fuck! I’m gonna come too.”

“I’m…Changmin, I’m…coming!” You gasp. Changmin shouts your name as he comes with you, spilling white hot liquid over his hand. He continues to pump himself through his orgasm and you do the same. Moaning and rubbing until your thighs start to shake. He looks into your eyes as the two of you try to recover your breathing. You can feel your heartbeat in your ears.

“Y/n, you’re so beautiful,” Changmin says suddenly. The compliment makes your heart flutter. He looks down at his covered hand, amazed at how hard he came.

“If I was there I’d lick you clean,” you say.

“I bet you would. Guess you’ll just have to show me next time.”

“Next time.” You agree.

Changmin walks off screen to wash his hand so you put your shirt and shorts back on. When he comes back, you sit back in your chair at your desk. Changmin notices how flushed your cheeks are. His attention makes you feel hot all over. You both sit in silence. He struggles to think of what to say next and you giggle at how nervous he suddenly seems.

“Not getting shy on me now are you, Min?” He rolls his eyes at your teasing and you both laugh.

“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow. Not sure if this study session was too helpful…”

Shaking your head, you chuckle before giving him a wave. “See you.”

“Good night, Y/n.” Changmin returns your wave.

“Good night.” You both smile at each other before closing out the zoom.

End.

116 notes · View notes

cloverdaisies · 3 months

Text

# ART CLASS 𝜗𝜚𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔

JI CHANGMIN x reader

˗ˏˋ description:ˎˊ˗જ⁀➴ৎ୭ : your crush on your art professor might be affecting your grades, he was just perfect but you’re just a student. how you accidentally fell in love with art class for the wrong reasons…

˗ˏˋ genre:ˎˊ˗જ⁀➴ৎ୭ : fluff, unrequited to lovers.

˗ˏˋ word count:ˎˊ˗જ⁀➴ৎ୭ : 5.5k+

˗ˏˋ notes:ˎˊ˗જ⁀➴ৎ୭ : this was once 10k+ but oops, is a bit of an indulgent fic i can’t lie, i hope you love it as much as i do, so here’s some changmin brainrot to feed ur delusions, massive thank you to @juyeonszn for helping me get over my plot blocks, ily. proof reading in progress!

Mondays, the worst day of the week. That was for certain, considering you had a two hour class that morning with a professor that would draw over your weeks worth of work with sharpie. Thankfully, he’d already announced his leave and you wouldn’t had to deal with that anymore. Every morning you’d get the bus to university dreading the next class, headphones on trying to drown out thoughts of how you were going to survive your degree in these insufferable conditions.

“Today you have a lesson with your new professor, who’ll be taking over for me. He’s very well educated and I’m sure he will be able to fill in the gap after my leave.” Your old professor rambled on as if his low marking and reckless actions with felt tip pens would be missed.

You weren’t necessarily paying attention, more focused on your pencil work in the sketchbook than you were on the front of the class. Ears suddenly perking up at the voice you heard from the front of the room, it was a cuteish tone, at the same time mellow and calm - a voice that could put you to sleep that sat just on the right octave to make you fall in love with it.

“Hello everyone, I’m professor Ji and will be taking over the introduction to Fine Art module going forward. I look forward to getting to know you all and seeing your work. Today we will be starting a new project for your mid term evaluations, it will be a multimedia piece with a theme of your choice. Make it mean something, do what’s true to you.” Professor Ji stated, already he sounded as if he knew exactly what he was talking about. It was a breath of fresh air and his intellect was almost making you dizzy.

No y/n, you can’t be getting a crush on your professor this can only end in tears if you find out he’s already happily married and settled in life.

“Any questions?” He asked looking around the room with his thick black rimmed glasses, leant against the wall with his hands clasped in his blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up.

“Are you married?” Someone asked from the back of the room triggering a boisterous laugh to break out across the classroom.

Professor Ji sighed and rolled his eyes, clearly contemplating his response a bit taken a back by the question. Especially in a university classroom, where everyone’s an adult, it was such a high school question, but who could blame them for asking?

“Do I look that old to you?” He responded with a chuckle, holding a hand over his chest like wound had opened over his heart. Oh and he’s funny. This literally couldn’t get any worse, he just seemed perfect.

After that the class began to start their projects, however for some reason you just couldn’t overcome the creative block in your mind on what to do. As you were sat twiddling your pencil and scratching out ideas in your planner you felt a presence appear behind you.

“Struggling?” Professor Ji appeared over your shoulder with his hands behind his back, briefly looking down at your empty page before back at your embarrassed expression.

“I guess you could say so.” You laughed as if you were begging for hole in the earth to collapse and swallow you into non existence. You watched as he smiled sympathetically thinking of a way to help you, dragging a stool and bringing it closer to your workspace. He’d done this to every student, going around to check on your progress unlike your previous professor who didn’t really care less.

“Let’s see.” He scratched his head for a moment, tapping his pencil on the table. “What are you interested in?”

You blushed internally, the question on completely professional terms but almost sounded like something someone would ask on a first date - at least in your delusional state of mind.

“Well I usually focus on work that expresses feeling, like this piece I did on stress.” You showed him a previous piece of work you did for the class, the abstract work compelling him to the phone screen.

“This is really creative. I love the way you used colour here, it’s abstract but so detailed. I think you’ve definitely found a style there —” He paused for a moment realising he didn’t know your name.

“Y/n.” You slightly smiled at him, trying to make yourself seem less like an awkward mess in front of him or mask the fact, that you totally weren’t staring at him the entire time he’d been looking at the phone.

“Y/n. I definitely won’t tell you what to do! But something similar will definitely have you sailing through this module.” He smiled, the cute line peaking at his dimples which could of had you squealing right there like some sort of wild animal.

As he walked over to the next table you couldn’t help but wish he’d stayed longer, his presence was unfortunately addicting. It’s the way his eyes lit up seeing your work, his passion for his work, his intellect, his welcoming aura, it had you in some sort of chokehold you hadn’t felt in years.

You took his words on board, an idea suddenly crossing your mind in a quick flash. Sure it wasn’t the best idea considering your current situation, but all the emotions you’d depicted so far were negative. Something within you was scratching at your brain to illustrate the feeling of the fear of love, knowing you were good at painting the feelings you genuinely felt.

Beginning to map out your idea in your planner, the new wave of creativity certainly didn’t go unnoticed by your professor as he looked over at you working away with a smile.

Then you hit a wall. You didn’t like using anything other than acrylic paint, every other form of media just for some reason seemed to irk every single creative bone within you.

“Any progress?” Professor Ji passed your table for the last time, as the lesson would soon be drawing to a close.

“Yeah I have an idea. However, I hate working with anything other than acrylic.” You expressed, your ears turning a bright pink as he grazed your arm to take a look at your planner.

“Well I think this is a great idea.” He laughed politely, readjusting his glasses with a light push. “I’d love to discuss this more thoroughly in office hours with you, if you’d be up for it?”

“Sure. When?” You asked completely composed, your mind rattling through ideas for the piece whilst trying to block out any thoughts of the man next to you. He smiled for a moment, flicking through your scribbled notes with a pen.

“Today, 5-6pm. Think of the things you want to discuss before attending and I’ll be happy to help. It seems you’re a really talented artist. You just need a push in the right direction.” He replied, his friendly register doing nothing to help you out of the sick spiral you were falling down. You smiled as he walked off to the front of the classroom to close the lesson, unable to pay any focus to the words falling from his mouth as you flipped around your ballpoint pen and chewed nervously down on your lip - the venom of adrenaline circulating your body like a wildfire from the interaction.

The class began to pack their things, snapping you out of your silly nightmare daydreams packing your sketchbook and planner. You pushed your pencil behind your ear, planning to pack it away into your pencil case at some point but not necessarily revising that idea. You slung your bag over your shoulder with a sigh, about to leave door without looking back, your bed awaits.

“Don’t forget to sign your attendance guys.” Professor Ji pointed to the clipboard on the back of the door greeting everyone on the way out with a warm smile.

You quickly went to check your bag for the loose pencil you could have sworn you just had, not remembering where you’d placed it, frantically searching the bottom of your bag for it not fussing to open the case of pens in front of you.

“Are you looking for this?” Professor Ji, took the pencil from behind your ear with a chuckle. Thankfully, being the last to leave was on your side today, no one seeing the god awful embarrassment on your face.

“Thank you, that’s so stupid of me. Sorry.” You laughed off the embarrassment, grabbing the pencil from his hand and signing your name on the sheet as he continued to laugh. “Stop laughing.” You looked over to him, holding back your own giggles as he only laughed more.

“Sorry I can’t help it. See you later y/n.” He chuckled as you left the classroom with a idiotic smile glued to your lips, the door closing behind you. You could have screamed right there and then due to the shear torment of embarrassment.

As soon as your head hit your pillowcase, the room felt as if it was spinning, so many thoughts drowning that brain of yours they were turning it into nothing but mush. You felt your eyes shuttering closed, slumber gradually taking over your body.

┈ ・꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ୨୧ ꒱ ・┈

The persistent beeping of the alarm on your bedside table triggered you to rise from your nap like something out of the walking dead. You could have used more sleep, but you seriously needed to attend Professor Ji’s office hours otherwise your project was never going to be finished.

You got ready, your head clouded with looking good for your literal university professor. You shook those thoughts out your head fairly quickly before sliding into your boots and setting off out the door. The winter semester brought in dark nights, it was cold outside, so cold you could see your breath in a thin smoke as you waited at the bus stop.

Presenting your pass to the driver, thoughts circulated your head like a manic steam train running a track as if it was the F1 , you can’t fall for your prof, it would only end in tears when he doesn’t reciprocate those feelings. Staring into the steamed windows of the bus out on the dark night, you sighed the faint sound of music playing through your headphones as comfort.

You pressed the stop button, nervously making your way down the bus aisle as it came to a halt. Making your way to the arts building on campus, you inhaled an anxious sharp breath before reaching the hallway of offices. The office still had your old professors name engraved in a silver board on the front of the door, hesitantly you knocked awaiting an answer. The door handle turned, your stomach flipping and performing handstands.

“Y/n, come in.” Professor Ji smiled, walking into the office with a confident stride, the place littered with boxes seemingly needing to be unpacked. The office was lit warmly with a lamp stood in the corner behind the desk. He sat in a spinning chair at the polished desk nearly placed towards the centre of the room.

“So explain your plan.” He leant forward as you sat in one of the chairs opposite him, you pulled out your portfolio the chunky folder highlighting a collection of your previous projects.

“So, since I’ve done a lot of work on emotion, I thought I’d tackle something more complicated. So I wanted to do the fear of falling in love.” You explained showing him a colour palette you put together in class, it showed colours from a deep scarlett red to a sapphire blue. “The only issue is I don’t know how to use any other media than acrylic.”

“Hmm. So you’re a painter?” He asked watching you nod before beginning to speak again. “Have you ever tried oil paint?”

“Only briefly, I don’t really have the funds to buy oil paints though.” You laughed, thinking the suggestion was silly considering how expensive oil paints could be on your student funds.

“Thought so, that’s why I’m offering you use my resources for this project. Here.” He pushed a set of untouched oil paints across the table, as if they’d just been bought. You looked at him with confusion, you thought this had to be too generous, you’d never had any teacher care so much about their students.

“I mean thank you so much but why?” You couldn’t help but chuckle at the gift, it wasn’t necessarily too expensive nor was it meant anything but a professional proposal.

“I know what it’s like to be a student. Plus, someone like you could really benefit from it, your work with acrylic is to not be transitioned into oil paint.” He passed on a genuine smile, a smile that radiated a positive energy you’d never felt. You looked down at them, still in a state of shock he’d go out of his way to buy such a thing for you. “I was also thinking, since 1 to 1 mentoring is setting back up with the new semester, would that be something you’d be interested in? I happened to stumble across your notes from your old professor and he noted you seemed very stressed with your work load.”

“Yeah that’s true, but I can handle it!” You tried to smile, however upon hearing the comments you couldn’t help but feel a bit embarrassed in front of the likes of Professor Ji and his intellectual level in art. It felt as if you were being told you were slacking or left behind. “I don’t think I need any extra help.”

“Are you sure? I mean when I was in your year I also went through 1 to 1 mentoring for the same issue. I wasn’t always at the level I am now.” He sympathised with you, trying to catch eye contact as you looked down at the table.

“Okay. I guess it can’t hurt.” You sighed, still avoiding the glare of his brown eyes across the table, a silence lingering as the grandfather clock ticked on in the background.

“That’s great to hear. So it will be out of university grounds. Purely because the university won’t let me book a space in the week, I was thinking maybe a café? Of course on a completely professional basis, there’s a few other students needing the extra help too. I’ve got one more slot, are you free Wednesday at 10am?” He rambled on slightly, the thin biro in his hand hovering over the page beneath him. He pushed up his glasses and looked at you expectantly, your many thoughts being interrupted by his gaze.

“Uh, yeah that’s my day off so I guess.” You replied with a shrug, sitting back in the chair as you watched him messily scribble in his planner. “Do you have any pieces you’re working on at the minute?” You had no idea why you asked him, however something in you was desperate to ask.

“I’m just doing research at the moment into the baroque period, I would love to have the time do a piece of my own. It’s been a while.” Prof Ji seemed happy you asked, a small grin lighting up his cheeks as he spoke about it.

“Hopefully you can clear some time soon, I’d love to see what you make yourself.” You laughed, almost forgetting you were in a professional space as you let the words slip from your lips.

“Agreed. You’re free to go, see you on Wednesday morning.” He concluded the meeting politely, seeing you out the warm lit room through the tall chestnut door.

“See you then.” You replied, feeling heat rising to your cheeks as you noticed his arm over you keeping the door open, thoughts spinning through your dizzy head feeding your delusions like a sickly candy.

┈ ・꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ୨୧ ꒱ ・┈

After then, every other class had you spacing out with a mind full of Professor Ji, thoughts of his paint covered glasses, rolled up shirt sleeves, sweet smile and messy short hair. You often smiled to yourself, the words of every other prof passing through one ear and out the other - drowning softly into the background of your daydreams.

Wednesday seemed like a century away, you found your weekend dragging by Monday felt like an entire week and so did Tuesday. The night before, you’re sat planning your outfit as if you were going somewhere incredibly important the next day. Scrolling tiktok to cancel out your nerves for the next day, although it wasn’t a date, it was a completely professional meeting. You couldn’t shake the thought of it being a café setting, somewhere where you’d get to know someone for the first time, somewhere where you’d ask someone their hobbies, stare at each other across the table- you were getting carried away, but how couldn’t you?

The weather was on your side the next morning, the sun shining through your small apartment building window, the temperature outside not too warm but not too cold either. You carefully got dressed into the clothes you picked the night before, fixing your appearance in the mirror with a smile. Hopefully the effort wouldn’t look strange to him, after all you weren’t trying to look like the weird student with the crush on the teacher, nooooo that’s not you! It was and you couldn’t deny it.

You couldn’t help but twiddle your thumbs on the bus towards campus, palms coating themselves in a thin layer of sweat, your stomach churning in anticipation. You thanked the driver, walking towards one of the many on campus café where you’d agreed on meeting. It was a sunny day, therefore a considerable amount of people had taken to having picnics on the campus green, most opting to sit outside the café with their iced drinks and books.

You spotted him immediately, sat on one of the small tables with his laptop, scrolling away through his laptop and sipping at his iced latte with pouty lips.

"Hey." You smiled walking up to the chair in front of him with a smile, he returned the smile closing his laptop and putting his drink aside on the table.

"Y/n, lovely to see you. How are things coming alone? Do you want a coffee?" He asked picking up his wallet and signalling towards inside of the cafe.

"I can get my own! And I can't say I've done much, I've been pretty distracted the past few days." You laughed, trying not to be too suspicious or act embarrassing in anyway. He looked at you momentarily, eyes wavering across your outfit and perfectly styled hair.

"You look nice, are you going somewhere after this?" He asked, for the second time heat flooded your cheeks, your ears probably lighting up bright pink.

"No." You didn't know how to respond, if anything you were too stunned to speak, trying to gargle up words out of the jungle rattling in your brain. "I just had some extra time to get ready this morning."

"Glad I'm not keeping you from getting anywhere." He chuckled a mischevious smile on his lips, "I'll get the coffee, what are you wanting?"

"An iced matcha would be nice." You blushed, your voice barely coming out above a whisper as all your dreams of a man all seemed to be coming true. He was so mature but at the same time had a man-child charm, he believed in chivalry and was always there to give you everything you needed. In your sick fantasy, he was your prince, the older man that would save you from the horror of the boys your own age.

As he nodded, politely exusing himself to get your drink, you felt your phone buzz in your pocket, reaching to grab it, a text from your roommate lit up the screen. 'Wanna go to the bar tonight?' You hadn't been out in a long time, too busy in work and exams to dare leave your mess of a bedroom: seemingly procastinating work was always more important than your own happiness and social life. 'Sure' You replied, after all you deserved some fun after everything.

Professor Ji returned with your drink, you graciously thanked him and slid your phone back into your pocket. He turned the pages of his planner to the notes about your project he'd written earlier.

"So have you started sketching out your linework yet?" He asked, repeating his little habit where he pushes up the middle of his glasses to the top og his nose since they always slid down slightly everytime he loked down.

"No... Sorry, its been a hard few days. I'm not even sure where to begin." You replied awkwardly, with all the thoughts of him you'd completely forgotten all aspects of the project or the fact it was due sooner than anticipated.

"That's okay, we can always start now, that's if you brought your sketchbook." He laughed lightly, not trying to put you in some pit of self doubt when you were already struggling to hit a pencil to paper.

"Yeah I did actually." You reach to grab your large portfolio bag, grabbing your sketchbook and opening it to the page where your moodboard for the piece was. You had practiced some sketching, feathered lines and doodles scattered across one of the pages. He reached across the table, looking at the drawings with a keen eye.

"Pass me a pencil." He asked, holding out his hand as you gave him one of yours, watching as he began to draw in the corner. "Instead of feathering your lines so much, try to get a firmer line like this so its easier for you to follow the precision of the paint."

He drew the heart balloon you'd drew in the corner, of course in a much nicer way which was soul crushing for you, but you followed his guidance and he nodded in approval. Of course, he could'nt admit it, but Ji himself was feeling some sort of gut feeling, perhaps guilt as he felt himself begin to get nervous around you. He thought it was endearing, the way you followed his movements and laughed nervously when you accidentally made a mistake quicly erasing it. However, he would absolutely never, his self control was a much tougher obstacle to tackle and he wouldn't let it fall for anyone.

You carried on discussing placement and ideas, not long until you had an minitaure layout of the page for your project all sketched out. The hour had flew by, and you almost forgot about your drink, too focused on him and his words to comprehend the time.

"Thanks for today, oh, and the drink, Professor Ji." You began to pack up your things, your pencils going neatly slotting into their case.

"Of course, just call me Changmin by the way, the professor thing is too formal even for a classroom." He felt himself cringing, why would he say that? He did mean it but, it felt even weirder that it was you saying it and not the other students.

As you left, he took off his glasses for a moment palms flattened over his face as his thoughts ran over all the events of the past hour, raking his fingers through his hair. Although he did think everything you did was in some way magical, he understood that he could not loosen the boundary between him being your tutor and you being his student. It simply couldn't happen. Ever. That thought would torment him until you either went away or he had to leave himself.

┈ ・꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ୨୧ ꒱ ・┈

For the next few hours, your daydreams had become an even more delusional hell than before. Your memory floated over the fact his hand had touched yours briefly as you handed him the pencil, the warmth of his fingertips lingering over your knuckles. As you grabbed your bag, getting ready to meet your friends you simple’s could not shake the thought of today, the chemistry between you both, the tension. It was all a bit much to handle.

You met your friends at the bar, regardless of the messy state of mind you were in. You got a break from work conversations for once, being able to stay up late and drink as much as you wanted as the sports played in the background of the bar. For the first time you felt as if this was normal university life you were living, however the huge disadvantage of not drinking in a long time is that after a couple of drinks you were irresponsibly and irrevocably drunk.

“Get home safe y/n.” You friend smiled, you two bring the last people in the bar as your roommate and her boyfriend had already left much earlier.

“You too.” You smiled before turning around and trying to walk in a straight line, the narrow alley of the street proving difficult as you accidentally wandered into the wall.

On a late night convenience store trip, trying to shake his irreplaceable thoughts. Changmin couldn’t get a wink of sleep with the pool of guilt sitting in the pit of his stomach at the idea of you. He left the store with a few snacks, figuring if he couldn’t sleep he may as well watch a movie or something to pass the time.

As if the world was against him, he noticed a familiar figure stumbling down the street, sighing as he recognised you, clearly not being in a state where you can get home safe unless you lived extremely nearby.

“Y/n?” Your ears perked up at the familiarly sweet voice. A voice of concern as you looked up to see your professor, Changmin stood in front of you with a glint of worry in his eyes.

“Oh…. hiiiii…. Sorry I must look like a mess right now.” Barely able to string out a sentence you giggled and hiccuped pushing a strand of hair behind your ear. Oh goodness… how you’d regret this in the morning.

“Can you get home safely? How much did you have to drink?” He asked frantically, gasping as you almost stumbled over his palms landing on either arm to support your body.

“Yes. You’re so funny…. I just need to get the bus.” You slurred your words going to walk past him, before you were stopped by him blocking your path.

“There’s no buses from here at this hour it’s 3am! I can’t take you home because I’ve drank myself. You can sleep on my couch if you want but if you go to walk home, I’m walking all the way with you.” Changmin stated, watching your eyes light up all giddily as you began jumping up and down.

“OOOO, What does your place look like?!” You squealed the curiosity getting you way too overexcited in the drunken state you were in

“Come on then, you had lectures in the morning you need be more careful.” Changmin let you link your arm into his, despite the berry pink shade rising in his cheeks he hoped you’d wake up in the morning and forget all about the way you were acting towards him for your own sake.

His apartment was a humble excuse for a studio, not too big but not inconveniently small either. There were band posters and some of his original art work hung on the walls across the room where there was space. It was lit warmly, he seemed to hate fluorescence of ceiling lights and much preferred dotting smaller lights with thrifted lampshades around the room.

“You have the bed, I’m gonna stay awake for a while.” He pointed to across the room where his neatly made bed was just waiting to canon balled, the mountain of pillows looking so unrightfully comfortable. You collapsed into the sheets without any arguments, failing to see the relieved smile as he sat down in front of the television.

You soon drifted off to sleep, every little mumble, little breath was heard across the room by him. He struggled to shake the thoughts of you, after all that’s what was keeping him up in the first place. He’d only made his situation worse, he couldn’t fall in love with you no matter how attractive he thought you were. Every time he shut his eyes he saw you, and now you were across the room the thought was haunting him. So he laid across the sofa awake, into the hours of the early morning until he just couldn’t keep them open anymore. Even in his dreams, the pictures of you danced like paintings across his brain.

┈ ・꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ୨୧ ꒱ ・┈

Of course leaving your professors house hungover at 8am on a Thursday morning, wasn’t the proudest moment of your life, it certainly was an experience. You’d never been mortified of your own actions, god knows what you said to him, you couldn’t remember blurting anything you shouldn’t of. However as you showed up to your lectures for the next 3 weeks he didn’t talk to you, nor did he help you with your project or take you to any cafés for your mentoring.

Your one to one sessions now took place in his office, to him it was easier to make the difference between love interest and student in there. You could tell the difference, he wasn’t as friendly, he was ice cold and this only made you more embarrassed.

After a few weeks you finally mustered up the courage to ask him.

“Why are you being so different with me?” You asked confidently, watching him avoid making eye contact and ignore the question as if he never heard it. “You owe me an explanation.”

“Do I? I’m just trying to maintain a professional relationship with you.” He shrugged continuing to check through your sketchbook, you couldn’t look at him without beginning to shake, the confidence in your voice wavering.

“What do you mean by that?” You retorted, confused to why that was suddenly so serious, when had HE ever been unprofessional, after all weren’t you the problem?

“I mean what happened those few weeks ago, was wrong. I’m your lecturer nothing more.” He placed his palm on the desk looking at you with a serious glare, eyes wavering suspiciously.

“Changmin?” You were hesitant to ask, “Do you have feelings for me?”

There was silence, you wished you could swallow your words back into your head but you were too late. He stared at you with a panicked expression, then one of disappointment before beginning to speak.

“I can’t Y/n, you’re just a student. You’re my student, I don’t want to lose my-”

He knew he was hurting himself with his own words, it was so clear he’d been pushing himself away from what he wanted and that was you.

You interrupted him with a kiss, it took a moment before he reciprocated standing up straight and pushing your back into the wall behind you. It was passionate desperate, as if every emotion, anger, frustration, love that was so forbidden - he’d just let it go. He couldn’t fight it anymore.

Pulling his face away from yours, you looked at him with teary eyes, all the emotions bursting out as your own feelings began to conflict.

“I’m sorry. That should have never happened.” He quickly backed away, holding his lips. You shook your head violently not able to produce a coherent sentence.

“No. I’m in… I can’t say it. Don’t hate me.” You still couldn’t think of the words, you didn’t want to frighten him or push him away. You were scared he wouldn’t be able to love you back, he’d hold his career over you.

However that singular tear that fell from your eye, was gently wiped away by his thumb. Wrapping his arms around your head and bringing you to his chest. He sat himself on the desk, lifting you on to his knee to comfort you.

“It’s okay, I’m in love with you too.” He whispered into your ear, only causing you to sob more as his own tears were wiped away by a hearty chuckle. “I guess we’ll have to figure out the work stuff before I can fully be able to love you like I want to though."

You smiled up at him in the ambient lighting, as he rocked you in his arms against the warmth of his chest you were content. The dimples in his cheeks sending your stomach swarming with butterflies, as you pushed your glasses up his nose for him.

That’s how you accidentally fell in love with your art professor.

┈ ・꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ୨୧ ꒱ ・┈

117 notes · View notes

tbzafterdark · 3 months

Text

movie night | ji changmin

requested?: yes

word count: 2419

genre: pwp (porn w/o plot, plot what plot) changmin x female reader

We might not want to take this too far tonight, I don’t know how much I believe that you’ll be able to keep that pretty mouth quiet…

How you ended up in this position, you had no idea.

Most frequently, you'd start and end your night in the comforting embrace of Changmin's arms. Together you'd pick at a party-sized bowl of snacks as whatever shitty Netflix film you decided to give a try played from his laptop screen. And sure, tonight started that way. Changmin propped the screen open on the folding table beside his bunk and pulled you back against him, but right off the bat you were able to tell that he was up to something.

What would normally be a chin resting on your shoulder was replaced with lips on the back of your neck, and the fingers that were almost always intertwined within your own were instead breezing aimlessly up and down your thighs. You tried your best to pay him no mind, but you both knew that was no use by the way his gentle touches were leaving goosebumps along your exposed skin.

When you turned your head to speak, his lips were against yours before you could get a word out. The need for more contact surged through the both of you like electricity, and in a moment's time you found yourself between your boyfriend and the mattress, lips feverish and hands desperate.

The sudden roar of laughter from outside his closed bedroom door was enough to force you to pull yourself back from him. You knew they were preoccupied with whatever games they were playing, but... "Babe, they're right outside."

"Guess you're just gonna have to keep quiet for me then, huh?" Changmin said with a trying and devilish look on his face. "You wouldn't want anyone to hear us, would you?" Your breath was shaky and before you even entertained the idea of giving him a response, his soft, ever so gentle hands were working their way up your sides, taking your shirt with them. All of your thoughts were wiped from your mind as Changmin dipped his head down and started pressing soft, loving kisses against the surface of your chest. "Wouldn't want them to see you like this, hm, baby?" he whispered against your skin.

“You’re so crazy…” Your words came out as unsteadily as your breathing as you gazed down at him.

It all but drove you mad when he tilted his head up and his deceivingly innocent eyes met yours. “We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, just say the word,” Changmin assured you, “I’ve just missed you so much. Had you on my mind all day.”

“I didn’t say stop, but you cannot deny that you’re crazy.” He only chuckled at that. Desperate to have him close to you again, you laid back fully against the mattress and allowed him to climb overtop of you. “So,” you mused, combing your fingers through his hair, “care to share what’s been on your mind?”

Changmin was quiet for a minute. You could only hardly make out his features in the dark space, but the small light emitting from the abandoned laptop screen beside you exposed his smirk. “Wouldn’t you rather I showed you?”

With that statement, your lips were on each other again, this time with much more intensity. Your hands roamed along his sides, desperately grasping at him as you felt him pushing himself against you. His elbows were on either side of your head, keeping himself steady. You felt his fingers playing in your hair and you wondered for a second if he was debating whether or not he wanted to grasp and tug on it. Changmin likes to start out gentle, but it’s always just a matter of time before he is toying with you and turning you into a fucked out, whimpering mess.

“I want you,” you pleaded, already putty in his skillful hands. One of your arms made its way back underneath the bedsheets, slipping easily under the waistband of his sweats. A gentle whine escaped your already busy lips as you felt Changmin’s length pushing against the fabric of his briefs. “Please…” You palmed him in a desperate attempt at coaxing him to get things moving.

“Easy now,” Changmin tutted, shifting himself into an upright position on the bed. “We might not want to take this too far tonight, I don’t know how much I believe that you’ll be able to keep that pretty mouth quiet…”

“I can!” The way you whisper-shouted so quickly in protest to Changmin’s words was almost embarrassing, but the challenge felt erotic and you were determined to finish what you had started here tonight. “And if I can’t, you can shut me up. Don’t tease me like this, please.”

Changmin didn’t say anything in response to your begging, but his body language was enough to prove to you that you had won. He made quick work of reaching underneath the bed and grabbing ahold of his little box of golden tickets. “May I take care of you first?” he asked, all honey-voiced and hazy-eyed. All you could do was nod as you began to prepare yourself for the hardest round of the quiet game you’ve probably ever played. “Okay, baby. Switch spots with me.”

Though a bit puzzled at first by his request, you were obedient, now in a position over top of him. “Are you ready to tell me what’s been on your mind, now?” As you spoke you discarded a few more pieces of your clothing, leaving yourself in nothing at all besides his graphic tee which hung loosely off your shoulders.

“Like I said, I’d rather show you,” Changmin took one of your hands in his and guided you forwards until you were balancing on your knees just below his chin. “Come sit.”

You let out a shaky breath as you did as instructed and finally lowered yourself onto his face. Immediately Changmin’s tongue was busy at work, wishing to lose himself completely in you. He worked delicately with you but didn’t resist making a mess in the process. The sight of him under you, eyes shut as his glossy lips sent you to a faraway place, was enough to send you reeling. A gasp much louder than you had anticipated escaped you when Changmin puckered his lips around your clit and sucked. You slapped a hand over your mouth and used the other to grasp and tug on Changmin’s hair, your thighs starting to shake with your approaching climax. You fought through it, stars behind your eyes as you kept a hand firm over your gaping jaw. “Fuck,” you groaned, stifled through the flesh of your palm. It was a short moment of catching your breath before you were able to hoist yourself off of Changmin’s chest. Quite literally did you have to peel yourself from him as the sweat from your bodies stuck you together.

Now laying beside him, you rested your head on Changmin’s shoulder and glanced over at him. “How’d I do?” you mused.

“Not bad for a warm up,” he cracked, grinning down at you and placing a wet kiss on your forehead. “What do you say we keep this party going?”

What happened next could be used as material for a sitcom. As if on cue, there was a knock at the door. In a swift motion you grabbed onto the comforter long forgotten at the edge of the bed and threw it over both of your bodies. Just in time for you to put your head down and shut your eyes the door clicked open and in walked who you could only imagine to be your boyfriend’s roommate, Chanhee. You couldn’t know for sure when you were pretending to sleep like a kid who didn’t want to get ready for school. You heard the classic sound of an iPhone being put on its charger, then the door handle once again. “They’re knocked out,” you heard the words trail off as Chanhee exited the room. The door clicked shut behind him.

So much ran through your head in that instant that you couldn’t help but laugh. Changmin was either on the same page as you or giddy from the thrill of your little close call, because a quiet laugh came from him too. “Was that a warning sign or an encouragement?” you asked.

“That was the brightest green light I’ve ever seen,” Changmin replied. There was a renewed energy radiating off of him now.

You shook your head in disbelief at him, but the act fell short as you fervently matched his energy. The two of you were like animals now, mouths and hands all over each other and desperate to get as close as possible. There was no such thing as enough of his skin on your skin. Changmin had found his way back on top of you, and you were so responsive to him that your chest rose to meet his with every breath you took. You wanted him closer. You wanted more of him. You wanted him inside of you. No, you needed it. So, you let him know. You reached your sneaky hand down beneath your waist, gathering any wetness from your heat onto your fingers and spreading it all along his cock. There were soft sounds of moisture as you pumped your juice onto him with your hand and mixed it with the sweet dribble starting to leak from him. You cooed at the nastiness of it all.

You could tell Changmin was doing everything he could to keep himself together as he shooed your hand away from him wordlessly, making as quick and dismissive work of rolling a condom onto himself as possible. “What do you want, baby?” he asked, voice sweet like honey as he started lining himself up against your entrance.

“G-Go slow,” you whispered against his lips, already feeling the crazy pressure as he only began pushing into you. You used his lips as a crutch, attaching yourself to them. Changmin swallowed the soft sounds that escaped you as he inched his way further until finally bottoming out inside of you. You remained there for only an instant, face-to-face as slowly together you steadied your breathing. “Go ahead,” you said as your body began to feel adapted to the stretch of him.

Changmin obeyed, murmuring something goofy along the lines of Sure to please, but you could tell he was beginning to lose his inhibitions. Your sweet boy must’ve gotten himself so riled up by pleasuring you that now it was a ticking time bomb of how long he was going to last. The idea of Changmin being so turned on by getting you off made you wild. You shocked the both of you with the moans that inescapably tumbled out of you, and once they started you found it hard to stop them. Every move that Changmin made was so just right and in that moment you felt worshipped.

Changmin shushed you, dropping his head into the curve of your shoulder. He brought a hand up to your face, but instead of simply covering your mouth like you had expected him to, Changmin pushed his middle and ring finger into your mouth, effectively pacifying you. “Quiet, honey,” he breathed against your skin, “Just a minute, now.”

You nodded, eyes fluttering closed as you sucked on his fingers. Your arms came around to grasp at Changmin’s back and shoulders, digging your nails into his skin as he began to pick up the pace. Your body arched, curving up towards his as he pumped himself into you. “Sh, sh, sh,” he reminded you as he withdrew his fingers from your mouth with a muted pop sound. While maintaining close eye contact with you, Changmin began his race to the finish. Using the same two fingers that had just kept you hushed, he started massaging your clit and with his other hand he grasped your hip firmly.

This was the moment you lived for. It took all the strength out of you to keep your focus on him as Changmin came undone before you, but he was so gorgeous to watch that it made it all the better for you. The way his eyes screwed tightly shut and his lips hung open was a sight that sent your mind in a whirl. You bit your lip in a final attempt at silencing yourself as another high crashed over your body. Changmin’s movements were starting to slow, though he made sure to make every last second count as you began to twitch underneath him.

Eventually, with an agonizingly slow pace Changmin began to withdraw himself from you. You had to stop yourself from whining at the loss of contact. Once you had fully parted and returned to being two separate entities, you allowed yourself to fall fully back against the mattress. Changmin on the other hand climbed out of bed momentarily, to dispose of what needed to be disposed of and also to grab some after-sex essentials.

No matter what kind of activities you had just partaken in, aftercare with Changmin always felt like the next level of intimacy. His hands had taken on a new responsibility, now soft and gentle as he cleaned you up with a plush towel. Any marks or even hints of discoloration on your body left from him were kissed better, no stone left unturned. Many times you believed him to find this a strategy- “kissing better” marks on your neck and chest until it quickly turned into a second round. You smiled down at him as he placed one last kiss right at the dip of your hip, then rested his head atop your abdomen. The moment was sweet, and on one hand you wished it could last forever. Unfortunately, though, you were back to reality and started feeling more exposed by the second with the blankets off of you. “C’mere,” you mushed. And Changmin listened. He climbed up the bed until he was laying beside you and he was very quick to get into his go-to comfy position, which of course was being wrapped as tightly around you as possible. In tossing the blanket over your bodies you had ended up shifting towards him. Changmin’s eyes were already closed, but still you cupped his sweet face in your hand and kissed him a couple times. “That was fun,” you whispered. “And we made out like thieves.”

Changmin’s lips curved up a smidge at your words, but his eyes remained closed. “We should do it again sometime,” he whispered back.

---

hii everybody so this is my first time posting on this account in a very long time :O i'm so happy to be back and writing again! if you're a veteran follower or you're new here, welcome to the blog i'm so happy to have you! feel free to drop anything you'd like in my ask box! hopefully this isn't too rusty as it's the first writing i'm posting in a long while! i hope u enjoyed it nonetheless and if you did please do not be shy to let me know! catch you on the flip! :)

#the boyz x reader #the boyz smut #the boyz fic #the boyz scenario #the boyz #the boyz imagine #q x reader #changmin x reader #ji changmin #ji changmin x reader #q smut #ji changmin smut #changmin smut

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juyeonszn · 6 months

Text

JUST FOR ME

PAIRING ji changmin x f!reader

WORD COUNT 1.26k

GENRES kinda fluff ﹒smut

WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, mature language, apparently ji changmin has a secret, established relationship, a whisker away ref <3, dacryphilia lol, making out, oral (m!receiving), face fucking lol, cum eating lol, lmk if i missed anything!

SUMMARY ji changmin had a secret.

MORE hellaur hellaur!! i cannot believe i’ve written 8 of these in the past month like i’m actually sick in the head. but maybe u guys are even sicker for reading them idk… once fawntober is over i think i might spontaneously combust. ANYWAY i would like to dedicate this to the resident jichang lover <3 beam <3 consider this a late birthday gift <3 if u enjoyed pls rb!

PERM TAGLIST @winterchimez @maessseongs @itsbeeble @zzoguri

Ji Changmin had a secret.

A very big secret that he would never dare tell to anyone else. Not his friends. Not even you. Whether it was because he wanted to keep this to himself, take it to the grave type beat, or because he was embarrassed— the world may never know.

But as you cuddle into his side, sniffling over this stupid animated movie, he realizes that his big secret might be harder to keep to himself than he thought.

He’s seen A Whisker Away with you probably hundreds of times by now, and he’s seen you cry each and every time, but for some reason this is the one that gets to him. The sight of your pretty tears trickling down your cheeks, eyes slightly puffy and lips pouty, has his thinking clouded. Typical Y/N behavior, living in his mind rent free like it was your career.

He hopes the thick comforter of your bed hides just how turned on he is, licking his lips when a tear drips down your chin and onto your chest. Don’t even get him started on your pajama choice. Nothing but a thin camisole and flimsy linen shorts. Did you know that you were just one action away from sending him into cardiac arrest?

Changmin doesn’t even notice that the movie has ended and the credits are displayed, eyes still trained on the stray teardrops rolling down your sternum. It’s not until you’re reaching above your head to stretch, leg bumping into his hard on.

You turn to him with wide eyes and a gasp. “Changmin! No way you’re fucking horny right now.”

“I’m not?” His response comes out more like a question than a statement, so of course you don’t believe him in the slightest. You give him a pointed look.

“How could you possibly be hard after watching that?” Your eyebrows raise, judging him wholeheartedly without knowing the full story. Though, he’s almost certain you’d still judge him then, too. Who wouldn’t? Getting turned on by the sight of his girlfriend crying wasn’t exactly something that people would think is normal.

“That’s— uh— that’s not what— you know what, never mind. We can just go to sleep if you’re tired—” Changmin really wished you weren’t so persistent sometimes. Then again, your persistence was the reason you were together in the first place.

“No, I’m wide awake now,” you simper, a sly little smile that looks out of place paired with the tear streaks on your cheeks. “Lemme help you, Min.”

You peel back the covers, straddling his lap. Changmin groans, throwing his head back when your barely clothed warmth presses down on his erection. Your fingers card through his hair before you lean in to kiss him.

It’s slow at first, lips moving together gently as you work yourself up. One of the things Changmin loved about you was the fact that you were always so eager to please. He had a tendency of not asking for anything unless absolutely necessary, but with your keen sense of perception, you just knew when he needed a little extra care. Like right now, for example.

His hands find your hips, grinding them into his own as he nips your bottom lip. You sigh into the kiss, parting just enough to catch your breath. He slips his fingers under the waistband of your shorts but you shake your head.

“Mm-mm,” you start to pepper kisses all over his face and jaw, trailing down his neck. “Let me do the work. You just relax, okay?”

The service top he was, Changmin thought it would be a bit difficult to just let you have the reins. However, he pulls away his hands anyway, allowing you to exhibit your magic. You smile contentedly, shimmying down so your face was level with his crotch.

Changmin watches with bated breath as you haul his sweatpants and underwear down his legs in one go. He fists your hair in a makeshift ponytail, darting out his tongue to wet his lips when you leave a sweet kiss to the tip of his cock. He hisses as you wrap your hands around the base, pumping his length agonizingly slow.

His hips buck up into your hands, teeth gritted when your lips envelope the head. Your tongue drags over his slit, collecting the precum that’s begun to form. You moan when the taste of him settles, one hand sliding under his t-shirt to claw at his abdomen.

Finally, after what felt like eternity, you take him fully into the warm coziness of your mouth. Every time you gave Changmin head, you tried not to push yourself to swallow him wholly. You were afraid of embarrassing yourself by not being able to fit his impressive size down your throat. This time was different. You felt the need to provide him the best pleasure possible.

He thinks he might combust, focus zeroed in on your plush lips going further down his length and meeting your hand. Your eyes flutter open, making contact with his as you twist your wrist and start to bob your head. Changmin groans, using his free hand to fist at the sheets below you. You looked so fucking filthy like this, ass perked up in the air as you sucked him off like your life depended on it. But good God, you managed to still look absolutely gorgeous, even with the drool dribbling along your chin.

Instinctively, his grip on your hair tightens and he pushes your head down, forcing you to engulf his cock more than you already had. You gag, but steel yourself to power through. Changmin accepts his fate and lets himself loosen up, a conniving grin spreading across his lips.

“Gonna let me fuck your face, baby?” He coos, bending his knees and putting his feet flat on the bed.

You moan in approval, pulling off just to respond. “Mhm. Want you to feel good.”

“Fuck, you’re so sexy,” he bites his lip, bringing your face closer to kiss your swollen lips, your hand still jerking him off. “I’m gonna ruin you.”

He can taste himself on your mouth and it makes his release that much more exciting. You break apart, returning to what you were doing previously. This time, however, Changmin doesn’t hold himself back. He starts to fuck up into the wet heat of your mouth, cock sliding down your throat with a choked groan following each thrust.

Your eyes water, and before you know it, tears are tracking on your cheeks. He nearly whines, all sense of restraint lost completely as you continue to wrap around him, tongue swirling around the tip and running along each vein. Changmin feels insane, his orgasm building up higher and higher the more you take him— the more you cry for him.

It’s when one of your teardrops drips onto his stomach, your thumb swiping across his hip bone, that he cums into your mouth with a moan so out of character, you almost join him. You try to swallow everything he gives you, but it’s so much that you have to pull off of him, feeling it slip down the side of your mouth. Your hips roll into the bed to release some of the friction that formed.

Changmin wipes away the mixture of saliva and cum on your chin, stamping another slow kiss to your lips. You straddle him once again, whimpering when he presses up into your already sensitive cunt.

He smiles, fingers dipping into your shorts. “You did so well, baby. Let me return the favor.”

#the boyz #the boyz x reader #the boyz smut #tbz #tbz x reader #tbz smut #the boyz changmin #the boyz q #tbz changmin #tbz q #ji changmin x reader #ji changmin smut #changmin x reader #changmin smut #q x reader #q smut #juyeonszn #fawntober.2023🎃

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sungbeam · 22 days

Text

007!ji changmin x f!reader

you're sent to montenegro to infiltrate a high-stakes poker game, but with the world hanging in the balance, it's a good thing m's sending her best employee along with you—agent 007, ji changmin.

▷ genre, warnings. f2l, james bond/007/spy au, action, suspense, pining(?), minimal angst, humor bc i'm me, violence, blood, death, mentions of alcohol, mentions of weaponry, mentions of corruption, swearing, kissing, near-death experiences, mentions of terrorism but not explicitly discussed, the ending is kinda cheesy im sorry it's late and i like making him yearn, barely proofread (dudes it's so late when im writing this)

▷ word count. 11.1k

▷ based on. casino royale (2006)

a/n: this is for @winterchimez ally's 007 files collab! pls check out the other fics that have been posted 😎 also, this is way lighter than the actual movie, so uhm, yeah!

YOU KNEW FROM THE MOMENT you first stepped into your position as an agent of the Treasury, that Kenneth Kang would be a thorn in your side. Perhaps not even a thorn, but a massive pain in the neck, the back, the ass. He was a man with a helm of pomade for hair and an ego the size of Russia, who, for some odd reason, despised you.

It was funny… the last time you checked, an entity such as Russia wouldn't be so easily threatened by someone like yourself. But here was Kenneth Kang, continuing to email you passive aggressive correspondence as if he wasn't butthurt the director chose you for this task rather than him.

After all, only the best of the best were selected to assist MI6 with their assignments. The fate of the world hung in the balance.

You told Kenneth just that in your last (hopefully) email to him for the trip: The quarterly reports are still due on Monday, Kang. Remember that Director Song excused me from them because I'm off to go save the world—ta-ta! Or something to that effect.

It was unfortunate the government monitored everyone's emails or you would've signed off with something wildly hilarious like “Love (if pigs flew), Director Song's Favorite <3 (not you)”—that would stick it to him—

A clearing throat drew your attention away from your laptop so abruptly, you were glad you didn't get whiplash.

“This seat taken?” You didn't catch a clear glimpse of the man's face before he was already claiming the seat across from you. The voice was awfully familiar, and when you finally saw him, you understood why.

You nearly did a double take, but the surprise swiftly melted away like glaciers in the spring to something like warm amusement. “Ah, do I—uh—know you, sir?” You asked, gently folding your laptop closed so you can gesture to the teapot before you. “Tea?”

Ji Changmin leaned back in his chair, eyes darting from the view outside the train car window and back to you. He dragged his gaze up and down your form, the back of his knuckles pressed against his lips. It did nothing to hide his smile. “Tea would be lovely, thanks.”

You obliged, refilling your cup with the hot beverage and pouring a decent amount into the extra teacup and saucer on his half of the table.

The two of you were currently on a train to Montenegro. Less than 48 hours ago, you were summoned into your director's office, only for the head of MI6 (the elusive M) to join you. You were debriefed on a high stakes poker game being hosted by a man notoriously reputed for funding terrorist organizations around the globe. You were told that M would be sending her “best” along with you to be dealt into the game—you were never given the agent's name or identification number.

But now that you were nearly an hour's ride away from Montenegro, it seemed he finally decided to reveal himself.

“Are you sure you don't remember me, Miss?” He asked, eyebrows raised over the rim of his teacup. “I was so sure that I left a lasting impression on you the last time.”

You slowly raked your eyes over the sharp, dark blue suit he wore, the white dress shirt beneath opened up at the collar, his wrist fitted with a watch that glistened in the afternoon light filtering in through the window. He had cropped his hair since the last time you saw Agent 007, M's so-called “best.” That was about two years ago, when there was a joint-branch charity gala and the two of you shared a dance before he was called away. Before that, you reckoned it was likely your graduation from Cambridge.

Time flew, you supposed, and you'd both been busy.

The corner of your lips lifted as you took a ginger sip of your tea. “Well then, you'll have to do a better job this time. What brings you to Montenegro?”

“Ah, business. You know how it is.”

“A truly dull answer,” you remarked. He couldn't come up with better conversation? You expected more from the man who always prided himself on buttery smooth lines. Where was the fun in ‘business’? “No wonder you've got all of that on. You're dressed like you're about to go buy a company.”

“Could I buy your company?” He asked in jest, tilting his head to the side.

You set your teacup down and a smile flitted over your lips. “I don't think you'd ever have enough money in the world for that.”

He chuckled then and ran his tongue over his bottom lip, catching a droplet of tea clinging to it. “Challenge accepted.”

When the train pulled into the station at Montenegro, it was just about a quarter past two in the afternoon. You and Changmin stood up from your cozy two-seater table to prepare to disembark. You rifled through your laptop tote for your wallet, but before you could retrieve your money, Changmin was already dropping bills on the table.

“Is this yours?” He asked, placing a hand on the bag stowed above the seat. It was a duffle bag that ranged on the smaller size with enough room to store your toiletries, emergency items, and any other things you might have needed. You were informed that clothing and the like would be in your accommodations waiting for you—there must have been a strict dress code for this event.

You shouldered your purse. “Yes, I'm traveling light.”

“Same here.” He grabbed your bag for you, and the two of you were off, shuffling down the aisle toward the nearest exit. Light, indeed. He didn't seem to have any luggage on him, but you supposed an agent of his caliber was provided everything he needed at his accommodations.

The train station, at this hour, was rather busy. People bustled to and fro to get to their trains, the parking lot, the ticket booth, the works. Your instructions once you'd arrived in Montenegro were to get in touch with the agent who was assigned to this case, and that you already accomplished. Until now, that was about all you knew, barring the general mission at-hand.

“I assume you’ll be staying at the Hotel Splendide, as well?” You voiced to him as you walked by his side toward the valet at the front of the station. You never knew a train station to have a valet, but you supposed it made sense if there were luxury, long-haul train cars.

“Your assumption would be correct,” he said. “In fact, we’re sharing a room.” The reveal of this information nearly had you tripping over your own shoes, and you were sure you saw a ghost of a smile make it onto his lips. You narrowed your eyes at him as he carried onward—of course, the two of you were sharing a room. What cover did MI6 even come up with? Something incredibly original like a married couple, you’d bet. Or, god forbid, a man and his mistress. (The thought made you gag.)

Changmin made eye contact with the valet boy, his chin inclining toward him. “Afternoon. It should be under ‘Ji.’”

The boy traced his finger down the edge of his tablet screen and his eyes lit up in recognition. “Ah yes, Mr. Ji,” he said, grabbing a keychain from his station and tossing it over to Changmin, “your car was just delivered two minutes ago. Have a nice trip, sir.”

“Thank you.” A rolled up bill was exchanged so fast that you thought you’d imagined it, and Changmin was walking onward down the length of the curved curb toward a parked vehicle. You followed swiftly after him, and upon further inspection, realized that the vehicle he was striding towards was a sleek Aston Martin in a classy shade of silver. It looked like something straight out of Hollywood, the sight nearly making your knees buckle. It was enough to say that all thoughts of you sharing a room with Changmin flew out the Aston Martin’s window.

Changmin gave a laugh at your reaction, opening the passenger side door for you. “You look more excited to see this car than me, sweetheart.”

“Was I that obvious? She’s beautiful.” You couldn’t help but grin back as you slipped into the smooth, leather seat. The interior was just as beautiful and sleek, with dark colored leather and a shiny center console. While you buckled yourself in, you heard Changmin deposit your bag in the backseat before rounding the car to take his place in the driver’s side.

“I can’t say I disagree,” he said, the door slamming. He retrieved a pair of aviator sunglasses from a compartment above the rearview mirror, donning them, then flashing you a dimpled smile. “Shall we?”

Changmin revved up the engine and pulled out of the train station's front lot onto the scenic road that would wind down the mountains to reach the portside where Hotel Splendide was located.

“I haven't seen you in two years, have you been well?” You piped up, now that the two of you were alone.

He hummed. “Ah, for the most part, yes—I’ve been alright.”

“Trotting the globe, I bet?”

“You'd win that bet, for sure,” he mused. He passed you a brief glance, turning his eyes back to the road. “And you?”

You mimicked the humming sound he'd made earlier. “I've been decent. Just work most days; you know how it is.”

He nodded his understanding. “Social life just as dead as uni?”

An incredulous sound flew out of your mouth, your hand swatting his arm to coax an impish smile from him. “I have friends!”

“Significant others then,” he offered.

You bristled in your seat and met his grin with a stink eye. “There are more important things than finding romance.”

“Still the same Yn as I remember,” he teased. “Now I know you're not an imposter.” A beat of silence, and then, “M must have been very pleased with your performance records to have approved of your director's choice. Not that I'm surprised; you've always been exceptional in your field.”

You turned your head to face the window on your side, barely hiding the pleased smile on your face from his compliment. It had taken a lot of hard work to get where you were, and you should've been proud of yourself. “I appreciate that. Though, I'm sure the fact that we know each other might have something to do with it, too.”

“I think that's just an added bonus,” he remarked optimistically. “You'll know how to keep me in check.” That was, literally speaking, exactly what your role here was. While Changmin was dealt into the game, you controlled the amount of money he was able to use or bet with. Because you were the trusted agent of the Treasury, you would be privy to the amount of money appropriate to use from the government's coffers.

“Who knew one partner project would lead to us saving the world together?” He added offhandedly with almost a nostalgic sort of whimsy.

“Are you ready to be a team player this time, though?” You asked, eyebrow raised. “The rumors say you enjoy flying solo.”

“I fly solo when it's dangerous,” he corrected. Which, you guessed, was most of the time in his line of work.

“So you're saying this mission isn't dangerous?”

“A poker game?” He laughed. “The only dangerous thing about it is gonna be how fast I'm going to win.”

The Hotel Splendide was as splendid as its name suggested. The grand, white limestone facade was carved with arched windows and statues, sleek columns and balconies. This side faced out into the waterfront, giving all arriving patrons a beautiful view of the port.

Changmin directed his car into the cobblestone roundabout at the front of the hotel. When he brought the vehicle to a stop, a bellboy in a maroon colored uniform opened your car door for you and offered a hand to help you out.

“Thank you,” you murmured, rolling your neck and stretching your limbs from the hour-long car ride.

Changmin emerged from the driver's side with his keys in hand, speaking to another attendant about being careful with his vehicle. He rounded the car just as the bellboy grabbed your duffle from the backseat.

“Welcome to the Hotel Splendide. This way to the check-in counter please,” the bellboy said, gesturing toward the front door, framed by an amber-toned awning and crowned in a myriad of flags from around the world.

You felt Changmin's palm warm the small of your back as you clutched your laptop purse in your hands. “Of course, thank you.”

The hotel’s foyer was just as magnificent as its outside. A crystalline chandelier hung from the high-domed ceiling, painting the room in a luxurious champagne gold, while the marble floors were lined in a deep crimson velvet. The front desk was to your immediate left with a number of staff stationed behind it.

The woman you and Changmin went to greeted you both with a polite smile. “Welcome to the Hotel Splendide. May I have the name of your reservation, please?”

“Ji,” your friend answered, “James Ji.”

Your eyebrows flew to your hairline.

“Ah,” the woman said, “but of course, Mr. Ji. Yours and your assistant's suite has been prepared for your arrival.”

Assistant? While she readied the key cards for you, you met Changmin’s gaze with a number of questions in your eyes. He only answered with a helpless expression.

Assistant? As if.

For fear of jeopardizing the mission by correcting the cover MI6 so generously assigned you, you reluctantly kept your mouth shut.

The desk clerk pushed a pair of cards across the polished wood toward you and Changmin—key cards. “These are your keys for your stay in room 700. All amenities, such as room service and the spa, are included in the fees you paid while booking. Your luggage will be delivered to your room for you. Anything you might need may be addressed via the phone in your suite or here at the front desk.”

(Assistant? Did you look like a fucking assistant?)

Changmin collected the room keys and passed you one. “Excellent, thank you. Did any mail arrive for me?”

“Yes, sir. A small parcel was delivered directly to your suite, as well as several garment bags. You'll find them in your wardrobe. Is that all?”

With nothing else to be addressed, you and Changmin thanked the front desk attendant and you were shuttled toward the elevators at the end of the hall. It was a good thing the elevator carriage made a swift arrival, because as soon as the doors slid closed, you let your frustrations be known.

“Assistant?” You exclaimed, gesticulating frustratedly. “Out of all the cover options? That woman probably thinks I'm your mistress!”

“I didn't choose it,” Changmin said, raising his palms in surrender. Though, it was clear by his expression that he was at least amused by your reaction.

You rolled your eyes, then narrowed them and crossed your arms over your chest. “What if you were the assistant, hm? Why aren't I the rich lady with a handsome secretary I take on vacation with me?”

His grin was teasing as he leaned closer to you, your breath hitching for a split second. There was a brief moment where your senses were fully engulfed by the smell of his cologne and the way a lock of his hair curled over his forehead. “You think I'm handsome?”

As if the universe could feel the warmth rising to your cheeks, the elevator doors mercifully opened onto the seventh floor.

He leaned away, something self-satisfied playing on his mouth as he returned his hand to your back. “Okay,” he drawled, “say I'm your handsome assistant…”

“I'm never living that down, am I?” You groaned, already feeling the headache spike in your temples. Your eyes fluttered about the corridor you entered; it was just as beautiful as the lobby downstairs, but with a slightly moodier glow to the lights as if not to disturb any of the patrons on this floor should they wish for an escape from downstair's hustle and bustle.

“Imagine if Chanhee found out you'd said that.”

“Don't get me started on Chanhee.” Room 700 appeared in your sight, and you smacked your key card against the card reader before letting yourself into the room. As the lights flickered on, you asked Changmin from over your shoulder, “Have you heard from him recently, by the way?”

Chanhee was a mutual friend from your college days. While he was technically a closer friend to Changmin, you'd met Chanhee through Changmin after your partner project and grabbed dinner together every once in a while whenever Chanhee was in town.

You were already making a beeline to the bathroom when you heard the hotel room door close and lock behind Changmin. “Recently? Depends on your definition of ‘recently.’”

The sound of your sigh echoed as you absentmindedly fixed your hair in the reflection. Train hair wasn't as poor as airplane hair, that was for sure. “He misses you,” you said in a singsong tone.

“Is that right?” He chuckled. “I'll shoot him a text then.”

He appeared in the reflection behind you holding two black garment bags, one in each hand. He'd shed his suit jacket somewhere, the sleeves of his white shirt rolled up to expose his forearms. “These are ours for tonight,” he said to you, handing you the one with your name on it.

Ah, tonight. “Thanks,” you said, taking a peek inside to see what exactly was prepared for you. Your curiosity piqued at the sight of deep wine red fabric, but you didn't look any further for the time being.

“Are you ready for tonight?” He asked, stealing a glance at you as he brushed his hair back in the mirror.

At the proximity of tonight's events, you suddenly felt your heart rate climb. Before when this was only an assignment, the gravity of the situation hadn't fallen over you yet. But now that it was your current reality, it began to rush at you with the speed of an oncoming train.

You steeled your nerves. You were tapped to carry out this task for a reason. The only thing you had to do was be wary of Changmin's spending; he was doing the heavy lifting. Even if you were about to be in a room with a few dozen other dangerous people.

You swallowed, nodding. “Ready as I'll ever be.”

He pressed his lips together, his dimples appearing in his cheeks but not because of joy. There was a step forward, then another. “Hey,” he murmured, his thumb brushing over your cheekbone, “I won't let anything bad happen to you or to anybody; that's what I'm here for.”

He draped his garment over his arm and leaned against the bathroom counter beside you. “If we both do our jobs right, we'll be fine. Do you know who our target is? Just so you're aware of who to look out for.”

You nodded, “Le Chiffre.” That was the name of the host of tonight's poker game. He was high on the MI6's most wanted list, and tonight was a critical effort to put a stop to his movements, as well as the credibility he had with his clients. You'd seen pictures of this man—the cold of his eyes and the pale scar that disabled one of his pupils—you were well aware of what he looked like.

“Good,” he murmured. “Then you stay far away from him, got it, sweetheart?”

“Got it.”

Though the gravity of the situation hung heavy in the room after that conversation, Changmin ordered the two of you room service before you needed to prepare for the poker game. You figured food in your stomach would keep you grounded and lessen the nerves trilling through you and making your extremities feel cold to the touch.

Dinner shared in the privacy of your hotel room with an old friend was pleasant. You both sat on the couch sectional next to each other, his arm laid casually over the back of where you sat, as you caught up and dined. There was something oddly warm in his eyes… you didn't know what it was that made him seem so clued into what you were saying, as if he was spellbound. You figured it must be the training he underwent; after all, if he couldn't just muscle his way to an answer, then seduction was also a powerful tool at his disposal.

You just wondered why it was seeping into his interaction with you. Perhaps it became second nature for him to be this way—to lean into every word you said, to brighten at the sound of your laugh, to mirror every smile. To make you feel like you were the only person in his world and that you were all that mattered.

By the time nine o'clock rolled around and you were in the bathroom preparing for the game, your nerves had calmed considerably.

The dress that MI6 provided you was a deep wine evening gown that hugged your upper body and cascaded down the length of your legs before it hung just above your feet. The satin was gathered and left to create a cowl at the neckline, and somebody had thought it was a fabulous idea to leave a high slit in one side all the way up to mid-thigh height. (One wrong move and you were screwed.)

It was as if a river of wine physically wrapped around you as a garment for the night.

Though you appreciated the beauty of it, it only served to make you realize that perhaps controlling Changmin's spending wasn't your only job tonight; your other purpose was to distract everyone else. You weren't sure how you felt about that.

A knock sounded at the bathroom door just as you were fitting on a pair of matching ruby earrings. “Yn?”

“Just a second,” you said. You pushed the earring backing into place and hustled over to open the door. “I'm just finishing… hey.”

Changmin had changed into an all-black suit, a classic piece of uniform that was tailored perfectly to his proportions. His eyes were hooded and dark as he drank you in like a glass of Pinot Noir.

A low whistle drifted out from his lips. “If I'm being honest, you might be a liability in this dress.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” you said, turning back to return to the bathroom counter.

Changmin trailed after you, almost dumbfounded, like he'd forgotten why he'd knocked on the door in the first place.

You tried to suppress your smile as you handed him his comb. “See something you like?”

His eyes met yours in the mirror, tongue swiping over his bottom lip. “I do.”

Your expression shuttered in the mirror having not expected that reply at all.

Changmin cleared his throat, stepping to your side to fix his hair with practiced grace. In no time, his appearance was complete, and he was heading out of the bathroom, his cologne lingering by you.

When you were satisfied, you turned off the bathroom light on your way out to meet Changmin in the main room. He was by the safe, fitting a fresh magazine into a silver pistol with skilled hands. He felt your gaze on the weapon and passed you a glance. “We can't carry weapons into the room,” he told you, “but it's a good idea to have one ready here.”

You bobbed your head in agreement, though you felt your shoulders tighten.

He locked up the safe before making his way toward you. “Do you know how to use one of these?” He asked.

You shook your head. “It was never in my job description,” you said quietly. “I hope you don't have to use it.”

There was a graveness to his gaze now. “I hope I don't have to either.” Because both of you knew, if it came down to it, he wouldn't hesitate.

The room where it happened was deep in the bowels of the hotel, somewhere below the casino floor and above the core of the earth. To get in, one was required an exclusive invitation, which was the item Changmin had received in the small parcel from earlier in the afternoon.

You and Changmin arrived on the scene arm in arm, your posture straight in an effort to come off as nonchalant. As you descended the velvet-lined stairs into the basement room, you were confronted by a pair of broad-shouldered bodyguards with body scanners in their hands. After retrieving Changmin's invitation, you were both scanned separately for security, before being granted entry.

The playing room was on the smaller side with a fully equipped bar on the furthest wall of the room. The centerpiece was an oval table, barred off with railings for spectators to lean on while the game was played. There were a sprinkling of others here, both players and their guests.

Your initial scan of the room, unsurprisingly, produced no familiar faces—but your arm tightened around Changmin's when you caught sight of the man of the hour. Le Chiffre stood on the opposite side of the room, nursing a coup glass of liquor as he spoke in low tones with another man. From this angle, you could see the cut of his one glassy eye and the angry scar that marred his face.

“Our four o'clock,” you muttered between your teeth to your counterpart.

Changmin glanced over out of his peripheral vision, nodding subtly. “How about a drink, sweetheart?” He asked you, his voice slightly louder than your own.

You gave a small smile, and he began to lead you over to the bar.

As the two of you moved, you couldn't shake the feeling of eyes trailing after you, something akin to spidersilk clinging to your limbs that you could never quite brush off. It was no secret that you were one of the few women in the room.

When you reached the bar, Changmin flagged the bartender down. “A vodka martini, please—shaken, not stirred—and a mint julep for the lady.”

“Right away, sir.”

You looked over at Changmin with an impressed purse of your lips. “You remembered,” you mused.

The corner of his lip tilted upward. “How could I forget?”

With your drinks served to you, you gently sipped on your mint julep. It wouldn't do you well to get drunk tonight; you just needed a little liquid courage.

From your side, Changmin stared out into the crowd, likely assessing his opponents in the room. He made a small noise of consideration that made you prompt him. He answered lowly, “You see the man to our nine o'clock?—”

You followed his instructions and casted a single glance that way. At the other end of the bar stood a man in a gray suit, nursing a rum and coke in his hands as he assessed the room for himself.

“—Lee Juyeon. CIA.”

Your eyebrows flicked upward. “Interesting. Are they after our man, too?”

“Good chance that they are,” he said and raised his glass to his lips. He swallowed the last of his drink and set the empty glass behind him, leaning the elbow closest to you against the bar behind him. “Know how to play poker?”

“I’m more of a Go Fish girl, actually.”

He sputtered a laugh, and you smiled into your glass. “You're kidding. Not even a little?”

“Go fish, Mr. Ji,” you said and gestured to him with your glass. “Do tell though, since your boss seems to have so much faith in you. What's the secret to winning poker?”

You hadn't even realized how close your faces were tilted toward each other until you registered the smell of his drink on his breath and the shine on his lips. For a plot second, you swore his eyes even dared a glance away from your own.

Neither of you backed away from the other and remained in the intimate gray space.

“The secret?” He parroted, cocking an eyebrow. He tugged at his bottom lip. “The secret is figuring out what everyone else's tells are. It's about bluffing and strategy. If you can figure out how to tell when a person is lying, then you're practically set.”

You hummed. “I see. So what's my tell?”

“Your tell?” His gaze on you was hot and heavy as his eyes devoured you slowly but surely for yet another instance tonight. You could no longer ignore the rapid hammering of your heart, its insistent palpitations threatening to expose you to the man you swore could already see right through you.

His lips pulled into a slow smile, the kind you couldn't decide if it really was a smile or a smirk. “That’s for me to know, and you to figure out.”

“You don't know then.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, sweetheart.”

A hush fell over the room. You followed everyone's eyes up to the man who had summoned the room's attention. Le Chiffre stood atop the poker table's platform with a small laptop seated upon the table's edge.

“Good evening, everyone, and welcome to the game,” he greeted coolly. “We will begin this evening's festivities with an introduction to our security protocols. This device—” he gestured to the computer, “—is fully secured to store and activate all of the night's betting money. Each player will enter a six-character code, unique to them, that will grant them access to the winning sum—should they win.”

A small murmur of laughter amongst the crowd; you didn't find it funny.

“We will begin with Mrs. Takeuchi.”

One by one, each of the players present tonight came forward to input a six-charactered passcode of their choosing. When Changmin was summoned forward, you watched as his expression became a careful, unreadable slate. He strode up toward the poker table, eyes never leaving Le Chiffre and Le Chiffre's never leaving Changmin. You could feel the tension in the room tighten, and Changmin confidently input his desired password.

When he pressed ENTER, you swore you could feel the fifteen million dollars being locked into the pot. Fifteen million was a shit ton of cash. The amount you were not willing to go beyond was twenty million. As long as Changmin played safe and played well, it wouldn't be a problem.

Not before long, the players were all summoned to the table. You sent Changmin off with a reassuring squeeze of his shoulder, and followed behind him to find a space at the railing to watch.

Changmin settled in the chair directly across from Le Chiffre.

The dealer passed out two cards to every player, each of whom hoarded a stack of chips and rectangular plaques that valued up to fifteen million. As the dealer revealed the four cards before him—two jokers, a king, and an ace—the game was on.

You weren't even sure what you were looking for, but the sinking feeling in your gut would not fade the entire game. You held onto your mint julep until it was drained, eyes trained on the cards lying face down in Changmin's hands as he watched Le Chiffre across from him like a hawk.

He was looking for his tell, you realized.

The match was tense. You couldn't pull your gaze away, for fear of missing some minute detail, even if each move made was technically quite large. In the beginning, however, it felt as though everyone was playing it safer, for fear of getting out too early.

The night was young, and it would do none of them any good if they lucked out of a pot of at least one hundred million.

You watched Changmin, who watched Le Chiffre. You noted the way Le Chiffre would occasionally bring his left hand up to his scarred eye… was that his tell?

It was nearing one hour when it was only Changmin and Le Chiffre who had yet to fold. The dealer called for Changmin to make his move, and you looked over to your counterpart as the gears turned and twisted in his mind.

“I'm all in,” he decided, and shifted his entire pile into the center, mounting up to some amount close to twelve million.

You pressed the backs of your knuckles to your lips in anticipation of Le Chiffre's move. The man did not cower, but rather, called his bet. He moved his pile of fourteen million to the center. All in.

“Gentlemen,” the dealer gestured for their cards to be revealed.

They flipped their cards into view—you could feel the scandal rocket through the crowd.

“A pair of jacks. Monsieur Le Chiffre wins. This marks the halfway point of the match; we will return in one hour to resume, with the big blind set at two hundred thousand.”

Everyone around the table, both players and spectators, began to dissipate to find something to distract them for the hour-long break.

Changmin's posture was taut as a bowstring as Le Chiffre pulled his mouth into a sly smirk across from him. “Ah, Mr. Ji. You must have interpreted my tell wrong. Off your game tonight, don't you think?”

A muscle feathered in the agent's jaw. “I wouldn't be so quick to boast,” he drawled. “The game's not over yet.”

You didn't know what to say, but you knew one thing was for certain—no matter what, you and Changmin could not let Le Chiffre leave tonight with the jackpot. And as Changmin departed the table with a crease between his brows but his head held high, you knew what was on his mind, as well.

“Need a drink?” You asked, as he met you where you stood.

Changmin shook his head. “No, I'm alright,” he said, glancing about. He nudged the back of your shoulder with his fingers, guiding you toward the exit. “Let's get out of this room for a moment though.”

You weren't going to argue with that decision, and the two of you linked arms and made your departure.

When the cool air in the lobby swept over you and all the tension in your body left for a brief moment of paradise. It was so stifling down in that room; you were almost thankful to be wearing this dress.

You and Changmin lingered at the top of the railing that looked down into the lobby from the second flood, heads close together. “What now?” You asked him.

“I need more money.”

“I can give you five million, but that's my limit, Changmin,” you told him firmly.

His brows crossed together. “Five million isn't enough to go toe to toe with a guy who just ended round one with thirty—”

“That's not my fault; this is policy.” You knew the world hung in the balance, but while that was his job, this was yours. You sighed. “Maybe I can contact someone about approving more, but right now, five million is our only option. Do we not have a plan B?”

Changmin's lips pressed into a line. “Plan B is hoping he does something fucking illegal in front of my face, and praying that reinforcements come in fast enough to take him away.”

Now it was your turn for your brows to crease. “Why do we have to wait for him to do something illegal? Don't we know he's a criminal?”

“We're onto him, yes, but there has been no tangible proof that he's a corrupt banker,” Changmin admitted tersely. He absentmindedly rubbed his jaw with his palm. “If we could just—”

“Ji.”

Both you and Changmin straightened. Coming toward you from down the hall was Lee Juyeon, the CIA agent Changmin had pointed out to you earlier.

You didn't fail to notice the way Changmin blocked you from Juyeon's view with his body. “Lee,” Changmin greeted back.

Juyeon nodded to you in hello with a warm smile, and you lifted your hand to wave. He seemed decent enough.

Changmin’s eyes narrowed as he shifted so he stood next to you now, an obvious arm slung around your waist. “I didn't know the CIA was on this.”

“I didn't know the MI6 was on this,” Juyeon fired back. He let out a sigh that sounded about as stressed as you were. “I wanted to propose a deal with you.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, well—” Juyeon cupped the back of his neck with one hand. “I'm not the most adept poker player,” he confessed. If you remembered correctly, he nearly lost half his money throughout round one—then again, Changmin lost all of his. According to Le Chiffre, it was because he had read his tell incorrectly; you must have interpreted the wrong one, too. “And I figured that I'm not going to be making enough right moves in the second round to even stand a chance against Le Chiffre. You've got the balls to go up against him, and I know you're down a few bucks, so I wanted to bow out of the round and stake you instead.”

Both you and Changmin glanced at one another in surprise.

Juyeon was backing out… and wanted to stake Changmin? Stake, meaning to invest or sponsor him; to give Changmin funds.

Changmin's eyes narrowed. “And what would I do for you in return?”

“You would give the CIA Le Chiffre.”

What other choice did you and Changmin have? Five million was not enough to make a winning comeback; at least being sponsored would give Changmin enough cushion to make some more mistakes. The allyship between your governments was enough to make the CIA taking Le Chiffre in the end seem like a victory.

Changmin exhaled and stuck out his hand. “Deal.”

The second round was no less tense than the first. Changmin entered with more determination and fury than before, and Le Chiffre was no short of amusement and arrogance.

After Juyeon made his official departure from the game, he came to stand by you to spectate and offer insights wherever he could. The game chugged on by for another half hour with bets being placed, drinks being sipped, and money being exchanged.

You watched Changmin reach for his glass again, only to pause. There was a moment where you didn't breathe, and you watched his hand retract up toward his shirt collar to loosen it.

“Something wrong, Mr. Ji?” Le Chiffre asked.

You squinted at him, disliking the sinking feeling that had returned to your gut.

“Break,” Changmin suddenly called out, as he stumbled out of his seat and pushed out of the room in a hurry.

Eyes widened, you bolted after him, leaving Juyeon to wonder what had happened to Changmin.

You called out to your partner as he stumbled into the elevator, and you crashed in after him. “Oh my—fuck. What the fuck happened?” You asked as Changmin toppled over into you, sweat dripping down his face and his skin growing more and more flushed.

You jammed the button for your floor in a hurry as you attempted to hold him upright. “God, you're heavy, man—”

“Poison,” he choked out, practically ripping his shirt collar open, as if it was constricting his breathing. He gasped for air and clung onto you like a lifeboat.

Panic seized you by the heart and squeezed hard. “Oh my god. Okay—uhm, okay. What do we do? Changmin, what do we do?”

The elevator arrived on the seventh floor, and you half dragged Changmin toward your room. “The—the antid—antidote—”

“The antidote! We have an antidote?” You didn't have time to question him as you retrieved your room card from within your dress and barged into the hotel suite.

You deposited Changmin onto the floor as quickly and carefully as you could, hands shaking as you helped to take his shirt off so he could breathe.

“Safe,” he gasped to you.

“The safe? Fuck, what's the code?” You asked, clambering to your feet and racing over to the black box in the wall.

You heard him choke out the four digits, and the safe swung open without ceremony. You rifled around the contents and retrieved an aluminum foil packet with a slim syringe inside. “Found it!” You cried and practically slid across the floor to get back to him.

You ripped the packet open as Changmin's breathing continued to shallow, his skin paling, and his body growing weaker. His left palm had landed somewhere on his thigh—inject here.

“Shit,” you swore, grimacing to yourself before stabbing the syringe into his leg.

As soon as the liquid was gone, all you could do was pray.

But the storm clouds were beginning to clear, and color slowly returned to Changmin's face. You sank back onto your heels, relief and adrenaline coursing through you.

“Fucking hell, that was a close—”

White hot pain flashed through you as something—someone—grabbed you by your hair and yanked. Your scream pierced through the silence, and it was nearly enough to wake the dead.

They were dragging you backward toward the door, and you reached up to claw at their hands, your skull feeling as if it was being pulled into a million directions while being set ablaze, all at once.

“Let—go!” You screeched, thrashing around. You couldn't see your captor, but they suddenly released their grip on you.

Relief was short-lived.

Your head whipped to the side as a shoe met your cheek. Stars danced in your vision, and you cried out in pain—and then you begged. You were certain Changmin was still recovering, hardly in a state to save you, and desperation began to claw itself into your heart.

Your body was hoisted up beneath your armpits and you squirmed, fighting for your life.

For a second, you were sure you heard Changmin call out your name.

You threw your elbow back into your attacker's face, then tried the back of your head—the sound of pain and bones cracking echoing in your eardrum.

“You bitch!” They roared, loosening their grip to feel their broken nose.

You were a mess as you landed on the ground. A gleam of silver caught your eye. The gun.

Adrenaline seized you and you made a mad dash for the table where the gun was stowed beneath.

Your opponent caught your ankle and dragged you back down to earth. There was no time to mourn over bruised knees and limbs, and you kicked your heels out behind you in a blind fury, desperate to get away.

“Yn—”

“Please,” you screamed, begged. Whoever that was—you just wanted this to end. Fear coursed through you as your body began moving backwards and was dragged back to the door.

You dug your fingers against the polished ground, unsuccessfully gaining purchase. You clutched at a chair leg and dragged it along with you, and felt the hand around your ankle tighten—

With all your strength, you took the chair and heaved it back toward your captor. He let out a garbled swear, only agitated by your continued resistance. The hand around your ankle disappeared and you took it as an opportunity to get away.

“Not so fast.”

Your body hit the ground, the back of your head making purchase against stone. This time, you saw your assailant—he was one of the guards from earlier, likely working under Le Chiffre's orders. Blood dribbled down his lower face, courtesy of your retaliation.

“I should just kill you here and now,” he growled and enclosed his meaty hands around your neck. “Won't make a difference.”

You struggled against him, but to no avail. Your windpipe was being crushed and your vision blurred.

You thrashed and scratched and kicked—this was the end. Oh god, was this the end?—

A shot rang out.

Air slowly began seeping into your airway and you hacked a cough around the hands that had fallen away from your throat.

The dead body above you was heavy and sticky, and the smell of iron permeated your nose like a nightmare. You didn't even realize your cheeks were damp until you blinked and tears filled your eyes.

You nearly died just then.

With a suppressed sob, you shoved the dead body off you with all of your remaining strength.

There, by the table, was Changmin and the smoking gun in his hand. He still looked only half conscious, but he'd managed to get himself to sit up with pure willpower, enough to reach the gun stashed beneath the table, and to aim and fire a shot.

The room was quiet for a few moments, other than the persistent ringing in your ears.

Then you let yourself cry—it shook through your body and shoulders in violent sobs.

Changmin's chest clenched painfully at the sound, and the gun clattered out of his hand so he could crawl his way over to you. His hair, his face, his clothes were all dampened in sweat and the empty syringe laid abandoned on the floor. He made it over to where you were, the red of your dress mixed with the blood of a dead man, and held your body close to his.

“I'm sorry,” he muttered against your hair, lips pressed against your crown. “You’re okay; we're okay now,” he promised.

With his strength slowly returning to him, Changmin sat himself upright and let your body lean against him. You grappled onto him so tightly, as if he might slip out of your grasp.

It was almost thirty minutes later that you and Changmin returned to the poker game. With some gentle coaxing, he got you into the shower to wash the blood away, but you couldn't get the icky feeling clinging to you. He'd been gentle, though, letting you sit beneath the stream in your dress as he got onto the shower floor with you to run the water and soap through your hair.

In his hold, he rocked you gently through the tremors. “No one's gonna hurt you anymore, sweetheart,” he rasped. Never again, not if he could help it.

You'd never seen him like that—all the tenderness in his gaze out in the open.

And you'd only seen it when you glanced up at him once; the rest of the time, you tucked your chin to your knees, staring at a tile.

Unnerved but still alive, you entered the room with another clean dress, and Changmin with another clean set of clothes. You returned to your place beside Juyeon, and Changmin went back to the table to face Le Chiffre.

Le Chiffre, however, looked as if he'd seen a ghost. His eyes had widened just a millimeter, but it was enough.

Changmin dragged up the sleeves of his dress shirt, a predatorial-like gleam in his eyes. You almost killed me. Even worse, you dared to lay a dirty hand on her. “Sorry about that,” he drawled, gaze lifting to meet Le Chiffre's, “seemed that last hand nearly killed me.”

His opponent swallowed.

The game resumed.

With the final phase in play, the dealer announced that there could be no more buy-ins. Juyeon had fetched you a drink, which you were most grateful for, and Changmin avoided all beverages for the remainder of the game.

“Everything alright?” Juyeon asked you quietly as you chugged your drink.

“Perfectly.” You handed the drink off to a waiter nearby and smiled tightly. “We were just strategizing on how to murder this game.” You hoped he didn't hear the tremor in your voice.

As the final round approached, each of the four finalists that were left alive were asked to make their bets. Each player slowly, but surely, slid all of their remaining chips into the center.

Everyone was all in.

“Reveal your cards, if you please.”

One by one, the cards in each player's hand was turned. The room held its collective breath as Le Chiffre revealed an ace and a six—a fuller house, with three aces and two sixes.

All that was left were Changmin's.

With little more than an arched brow, he slid his cards apart: a five and seven, both of which were spades. When joined together with the rest, they made—

“A straight flush,” announced the dealer. “Monsieur Ji wins the game.”

Cheers and applause rang out throughout the room as the game finally came to a close. Relief soared through you, and you shook hands with Juyeon at Changmin's success. Perhaps twenty million had been spent, but it all meant that you had won back that money in full.

From your standpoint, you couldn't see Le Chiffre's reaction, but he didn't look pleased. He stormed out of the room only moments later.

Changmin was swift to join the two of you, his hand coming to lie on your shoulder. “We should go after him,” he said.

Juyeon nodded, expression sobering. “You're right.”

“I'm going with you,” you told him. Already anticipating his refusal, you shut him down with a look. Though you might have been shaken from the night's near-death experience, it only seemed to steel over your resolve to catch this bastard. “I'm safer with you; don't try to argue with me.”

He knew you were right—you saw the reluctant agreement in his eyes. He grunted, “Okay, but you're staying behind me the entire time and when I say run, you better run.”

You patted his chest and followed after Juyeon. “Of course.”

The three of you raced after Le Chiffre in the direction he disappeared. He'd gone up to the second floor via the grand staircase in the lobby, but neither you nor the other boys knew which direction he went from there. The second floor was damn near close to a labyrinth.

“We split up,” Changmin declared. “Me and Yn go one way and Juyeon takes the other.”

“Wait, Juyeon goes alone?” You butted in. “Le Chiffre is dangerous and desperate; that combination isn't good for anybody.”

“None of us have any weapons either,” Juyeon pointed out.

Changmin gestured to you. From beneath the skirt of your new dress, you withdrew the pistol from earlier out into the light. After what happened in your suite, the both of you thought it best to let security measures be damned and holster a gun to your inner thigh. And now, it was proving to be the right decision.

Juyeon deadpanned, amending, “I don't have a weapon.”

“Then you should go get one,” Changmin said smartly. You rolled your eyes at him.

“I—shit.” Juyeon huffed in frustration. “Goddamn it. You better hold your promise, Ji.”

“My word is gold,” Changmin swore as you passed him the pistol. “We'll find Le Chiffre; you call for backup.”

With that matter settled, you grabbed Changmin's hand and set off in one direction.

His fingers tightened around you as you stuck close behind him. The corridor was hauntingly quiet with not a soul around. You and Changmin trudged onward and kept your eyes and ears open for anybody hiding behind a corner or waiting to enact revenge on your poker victory tonight.

The hair on your arms and the back of your neck stood erect, heart thundering loudly in your ears.

So loud, that you almost missed it.

You caught Changmin's eyes. Did you hear that?

There it was—it sounded like voices coming from a room further down the hall.

“—please, just a few more weeks, and I can get you your money back!”

A muffled response in return.

“NO! I swear, I'll do better! I have another i—”

You never heard the end of Le Chiffre's offer. There was only the sound of a metallic swish, followed by a dull weight hitting the ground. A body.

Your breath hitched as you and Changmin looked around wildly for a swift exit or cover. There was an emergency stairwell just a few doors down.

Changmin grabbed you and booked it.

Your breath caught in your throat as he pressed you against the open doorway, eyes flickering somewhere behind you to watch the door the voices had come from.

“Do you trust me?” He asked, eyes furiously searching your own.

You didn't have to think about it. “Yes.”

Just as a door opened in the hallway, Changmin cupped your jaw with his hand, braced himself against the doorway with the other, and kissed you.

Your eyes fluttered closed upon immediate impact and you felt your heart leap into your throat. His lips moved gently against your own, as if afraid of breaking you, and his hand moved down from your jaw to wrap around your waist to pull you flush against him.

One moment you were melting into his embrace, and the next, he was shoving you behind the other side of the doorway for cover.

A war cry rang out—not Changmin, you realized—as a body blurred past you and was thrown into the stairwell's metal railing. Your soul nearly left your body, head turning in time to throw yourself out of the way of the incoming bodies.

Changmin brawled and grappled on the floor with a second man, a silver machete glistening in the dim light, only a few centimeters from his throat. The first man was slowly beginning to stand up, and your eyes tracked where Changmin's gun had skidded to the floor.

You swiped the gun up just as Changmin wrestled his opponent off him.

With adrenaline powering through you, you smashed the butt of the gun against the back of the man's skull. He crumpled to the cement—unconscious.

“Here,” you breathed, helping Changmin to his feet and shoving the gun into his hand.

He shook his dizziness away, eyes widened on something behind you. “YN, DUCK!”

You swore, and dropped to the ground, narrowly missing the arc of the first man's machete attempting to remove the head from your shoulders.

You dove down the first set of stairs to get out of the way of the fight, your knees and hands scraping against the cement and bruising.

The man with the machete attacked Changmin with reckless abandon, swinging his blade and striking the railing to make sparks fly. Changmin had no opening to use his firearm and—oh shit. They were coming this way.

“Yn, you better be fucking running.”

He didn't need to tell you twice. You tumbled down more stairs, ditching your heels as you went. You would be useless in this fight, so your best action would be to get the fuck out of the way.

Changmin's breath flew out of his chest as he hit the wall hard, then stuck his hands out in time to stop the assassin from impaling his head on the sword. Changmin drove his knee into his stomach, then threw him across the stairs to the opposite landing.

The fight clambered on down the spiral stairwell, metal clashing against metal, and bone and flesh grinding against stone. Changmin gritted his teeth as he fumbled backwards down the stairs, hitting the opposing wall with even more momentum.

He ducked—and missed another swing; and another; and another.

There was a kick to his gut, and his body went flying. His assailant took a leaping start and charged. Changmin grabbed at his hands again, desperately attempting to wrestle the machete away.

The weapon went sailing; that was his opening.

With pure adrenaline, Changmin fisted the man's shirt and flung him over whatever railing was left. You cursed as his body hit the basement floor with a thump.

Changmin tackled him as he attempted to climb to his feet. With the violent thrashing, Changmin ended up beneath him, his arm wrapped tightly around his opponent's neck, and he squeezed.

The man's arm flopped about, desperately reaching for the gun that scattered onto the floor from all the ruckus. If he could just reach it—

You lunged for the gun, tripping as the man clawed at your ankle to throw you off. You shrieked, swinging the barrel at his hand to knock it away.

When you finally managed to scramble backward, you watched the light fade in the assassin's eyes.

As soon as the man slumped in death, Changmin loosened his grip and crawled out from beneath the body.

You clambered over to him and helped him to his feet, his joints and muscles screaming as he attempted to straighten. He groaned, white-knuckling the railing, “Fucking hell.”

“Are you okay? Holy shit, Changmin,” you said, wrapping your arms around him to hold him up. There had been too many close calls there.

You passed a glance over at the corpse lying on the floor about a meter away from you. A shudder rippled down your spine, and you felt Changmin's hand on your forearm, like he knew.

From up above, you heard the sound of the stairwell door opening. The two of you peered straight upwards as a familiar face peered over the landing.

“Le Chiffre's dead,” said Juyeon. In his hand was a pistol; it seemed he finally retrieved his firearm.

“No shit,” you and Changmin replied simultaneously, chests heaving up and down in laborious panting.

Juyeon blinked, squinting his eyes to take in your appearances. “What the fuck happened to you guys?”

“Careful,” you called up to him, “that guy isn't dead.”

Juyeon jolted and he considered the body at his feet with new awareness.

You threw one of Changmin's arms around you to begin the ascent back up. “Can you—fuck. Is that yours?” You swore for the thousandth time tonight as you peered over at the growing dark splotch of red seeping through Changmin's shirt.

He hung his head as strength rapidly bled out of him with his own life force, and you carefully laid Changmin down on the ground.

“Juyeon!” You called out. “Juyeon, help!”

You heard rapid footsteps in the distance, but it faded to background noise as you ripped open Changmin's shirt and came face to face with the vicious knife wound in his abdomen. “Oh my god,” you whispered. God, there was so much blood.

“Cover the wound, Yn,” Juyeon said to you as he leapt down the final steps. “Fuck, this looks bad.”

“He must not have begun to feel it until the adrenaline was over,” you reasoned in a desperate attempt to keep your head on straight. Per Juyeon's instructions, you pressed your palms over the wound, bile rising in your throat from all the blood. “Changmin—Changmin, come on. Stay with me.”

He murmured something you couldn't hear, and you leaned your ear down over his lips. “Come on, talk to me, love. Tell me something, anything.”

His voice came out, barely there. “I'm… I'm glad I got—I got to see you again.”

And he would see you again. That was a promise you made to yourself, and to him, as Juyeon called for his reinforcements and you clung onto Ji Changmin's life with your own.

When Changmin came to, it was bright enough to blind him. There was a fuckass beam of sunlight shining right into his eyes, and he blinked rapidly, wrinkling his face into a grimace. There was a violent throbbing in his abdominal area that ached when he attempted to roll over or sit up.

Was he dead?

“You're not dead.”

His body immediately relaxed into the sheets he was settled in. When his eyes grew accustomed to the god awful amount of light in the room, he was met by the sight of your face, silhouetted against the sun, and beautiful. “Are you sure? 'Cause I'm pretty sure you're an angel.”

Your palm came over to rest against his forehead, and his eyes fluttered shut. “You must still have that fever,” you teased.

When you both shared a laugh, he opened his eyes again.

It seemed he was in a hospital room—well, something akin to that. It looked more like a small bedroom was transformed into one, and he laid on the bed with a heart rate monitor hooked up to him on the side. You perched on the edge of his bed with a cardigan draped over your frame, and something soft in your eyes.

No, he was definitely in heaven. Maybe he didn't die, but he was in heaven.

Your expression sobered as your hand drifted down to caress the side of his face. “You lost a lot of blood,” you whispered. “I was really worried about you.”

Changmin brought his hand up to gently take your wrist and turn your palm inward, his lips meeting your hand in a butterfly kiss. “Hey, sweetheart. I'm alright now, see?” He intertwined your fingers, missing the feeling of how they felt interlocked in the hotel hallway.

The hotel hallway—the fight—Le Chiffre—the kiss. His lips seared at the memory, and he fought the urge to touch his lips at the phantom sensation.

“What happened?” He croaked out instead, gazing up at you. His heart tugged against its confines when he made out the shape of dark purple smudged against your cheekbone. It was the bruise forming from the guard who came after you, and it made Changmin ache to see.

Hurt, you'd been so hurt.

You shifted your body so you could tuck your feet onto the bed, too. “Juyeon came with reinforcements and we got you out of there as soon as possible. One of Le Chiffre's clients killed him—the guys you fought with in the stairwell. Apparently he'd used their money to buy into the game, and because he wasn't able to win, they killed him.”

Changmin stared up at the eggshell-colored ceiling. He supposed that would have been the tangible evidence needed to convict Le Chiffre, but his client was faster at acting as judge, jury, and executioner.

“M's on her way to meet with you,” you continued, your thumb gently tracing dizzying circles onto the back of his hand.

“To be expected,” he chuckled. He glanced back up at you. “How are you? Were you hurt at all?”

You shook your head. “No, nothing to your extent. There were a few scratches and bruises, but nothing time won't heal.”

“And everything else?” Your mental state, especially after all you went through, could not have been in a terrific place. If he could have prevented you from experiencing any of what happened, he would do it in a heartbeat.

The pure fear that speared through his chest when he thought you were about to die…

He had long since figured out that what he felt for you was not simply platonic. It was more—he yearned for more. Seeing you again after so long just made it worse.

You made a noncommittal noise. “I'll… I'll be alright.”

For a moment, the room filled with only silence and the white noise from the heart rate monitor. You suddenly perked up at something, and turned to reach over to grab an item from the side table. Changmin recognized the small laptop device from the poker game now seated on your lap.

“The money pit from the game was stored in escrow in a Swiss bank. A representative from the bank delivered this to us,” you explained, showing him the screen. It left room for a passcode to be filled in. “To the victor go the spoils, love.”

The nickname made him shudder and he forced himself into an upright position.

“Changmin—”

“I got it,” he countered and stubbornly gritted his teeth through the pain until he was seated against the headboard next to you. He clutched his injury, head knocked back against the wood. “Well? Wanna guess the password?”

You lifted your brows in amusement. “Do you know how many six letter combinations exist out there? For all I know, it was a random keyboard smash.”

He chuckled lowly, leaning his chin against your shoulder. “S.”

We're really doing this? You seemed to ask with the expression on your face. You humored him, though, pressing down on the S key.

“W.”

The letters that followed amounted to S-W-T-H-R-T. You were quiet for a second as you stared at the final combination; you didn't want to press the enter key just yet.

Changmin murmured against your shoulder. “I'm not one for corny messages, but that's a 'sweetheart’ if I've ever seen one.”

You were still quiet as you pressed enter and unlocked the winner's pot. There was no special celebration, no balloons or confetti—just a solid number with too many zeroes for your little heart to handle. Perhaps, in the end, there really was no amount of money in the world that could buy your company. Not if you freely gave it, at least.

Changmin felt his chest lurch. “Yn, sweetheart, say something.” He leaned off your shoulder so you could turn your body to face him, the laptop returning to its place on the side table.

“What should I say?” You asked, your fingers playing with his own in your two hands.

“I'm sorry if the kiss was too much.”

You faltered for a second. “It, uhm, it wasn't too much. I actually thought that it was nice.”

“You did?” He hated the way hope made him feel, how it made his heart sprout wings—maybe he was dead.

A small smile crawled onto your lips and you dug your teeth into your bottom lip. “Maybe I did.” You raised a hand to the side of your face, an embarrassed groan falling out of your mouth. “God, I feel like a teenager with a crush again.”

“Giddy?”

“Pathetic,” you teased. You leaned your head against the headboard again as you looked over at him with the most beautiful gleam in your eyes he had ever seen.

He never understood the romanticizing of someone's eyes—what else had he ever discerned but fear or boredom? But he could hear your laugh just by seeing your smile reach your eyes, and he could feel the warmth spreading in his chest and making electricity zip down his spine from the tenderness in your irises.

He swallowed hard. “If you feel pathetic, then I am literally chopped liver,” he said. A surge of courage, the kind that was a trademark of his reputation, propelled his next words: “I'd like to kiss you again.”

Your eyes darted to his lips and he clung onto that detail as if he were hanging by a thread. “Because you saved the world, Agent 007, you can kiss the girl,” you mused.

You leaned over him slightly and cupped the back of his head, mouth meeting his own in a familiar dance. Even with his injury, he pushed back to meet you, and ignored the throbbing in his stomach, so he could haul you closer, over, around him. Anything to get you pressed up against him.

Real—you were real, and you were alive, and so was he.

a/n: pls remember to reblog + comment if u enjoyed! omg that permanent taglist looks SCARY 😭😭😭

tbz m.list

permanent taglist: @flwoie @vatterie @seomisaho @hqrana @ja4hyvn @outrologist @rikizm @luumiinaa @tinkerbell460 @kaaimins @hyunjaespresent-deobi @otterly-fey @zzoguri @floatingpluto @winterchimez @ethereal-engene @gyulfriend @polarisjisung @jaehunnyy @shakalakaboomboo @loveliestfelix @bless-311 @zhaixiaowen @leaz-kpop-life @amourdsr @pxppxrminty @kqyutie @sseastar-main @kxthleen14 @fluorescentloves @mosviqu @jaerisdiction @super-btstrash-posts @jundundun @http-gyu @mvvnsseul @vernonburger @maessseongs @ericlvr @mars101 @moonyswolf @your-mirae @richasdiary @deobi0412 @sunramzi @honeyrecommends @synthwxve @dearly-somber @empire-x @kflixnet

#🔎 — the 007 files #deoboyznet #kflixnet #the boyz x reader #ji changmin x reader #changmin x reader #the boyz oneshot #the boyz drabbles #the boyz imagines #the boyz scenarios #the boyz fanfic #changmin drabble #changmin oneshot #changmin angst #changmin scenarios #changmin imagines

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beamtori · 7 months

Text

𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐝.

nonidol!ji changmin x afab!reader

2.4k words (HELP it's only this long bc there's like an actual plot low-key 😭💀), smut (minors dni), cunnilingus (face sitting/riding), cum drinking(??), kind of fingering?, kissing, swearing, descriptions of blood/stitching, mentions of violence/fighting/weaponry, changmin's a boxer? fighter dude?, a lot of arguing and banter, use of pet names (spitfire, baby), angst HAHA!

a/n: once again, this was FOR ME. :l if im being so for real tho, i should have made them fuck piv bc that would have actually scratched my itch, but i just had to go and make him injured 🙄

Ji Changmin was stupid.

"You are so—"

"Stupid? Yeah, you've said that five times already."

"—annoying," you finished with a snide, little smile, relishing in the way his pretty eyes rolled. You gave the thread between your fingers a forceful tug through your gritted teeth to snap the end off; a part of you loved the way he flinched.

You and he were currently holed up in the dimly lit space of your bedroom where he was getting blood all over your sheets, and stupidity all over your floor. (Did you say you thought he was stupid yet? No? Well, he was stupid.) The idiot had gone and gotten his stitches ripped out again, which was the exact opposite of what you told him to do.

You stood looming over him between his legs to take a look at his busted shoulder. The last time, he had gone out and gotten it sliced open. That would teach him to bring a gun next time—you shouldn't even talk about his fists. That would make you pop a blood vessel. His damn knuckles were split open like a row of splattered blueberries—blue and purple and ugh.

"When I come home for the day, the last thing I ever plan to do is more work," you muttered to him as you threaded your needle and began stitching up his gash again.

He winced slightly, digging his teeth into his bottom lip. "So you're saying you've never planned to do me?"

You met his eyes for a split second. His eyebrows flicked upward in suggestion; you made a particularly generous piercing into his skin.

"Shit," he hissed, sucking in a breath. "I said I was sorry."

"For what."

"For doing my job—"

Your eyes narrowed into a glare. "Your job? Your fucking job isn't to get the shit beat out of you every other night, Changmin."

"Oh, so you care now?" He fired back.

Your mouth snapped shut and you continued to work quietly. It wasn't like you didn't care about the nitwit, but you weren't about to admit it point-blank. His ears would never hear that you cared that much, but here you were, letting him into your apartment at god knew what time it was to patch him up again. You didn't know why he always came to you. You quit the boxing ring infirmary months ago, and yet, he always ended up at your doorstep.

When he realized you weren't going to say anything, his uninjured arm took your jaw between his fingers. He looked you in the eyes—you saw the dim lighting of the bedside lamp light a fire in his gaze. Or had that always been there? "You care about me."

You tore your head away. "Oh, fuck you."

His grin was wolfish. "Is that an invitation?"

"One day—" you huffed, knotting the thread and tossing the bloodied needle and tweezers onto the nightstand, "—I'm gonna rip you a new one, Ji Changmin. Or maybe you don't need one 'cause you're already a huge asshole."

He gazed at you, and you weren't sure what it was, but he looked enamored. "Fuck—can you just sit on my face already?"

Everything halted for you. "What?"

"Come on, spitfire; you heard me." His head cocked to the side in challenge. "Sit on my face. My arm might be useless, but my tongue sure isn't—"

"I'll be back," you interrupted sharply before your face got any hotter. You could feel his eyes on you as you scurried into the bathroom next door like a little field mouse.

His audacity was going to drive you to insanity one day.

You found the extra package of gauze and bandages in your medicine cabinet, the ones you had forgotten to grab when he'd come stumbling into your bedroom. You weren't sure why you hadn't forced him onto the kitchen counter like usual, but that was a worry for another time.

He was still there waiting for you. Your gloved hands were bloody and there was a pile of tissues on the ground that you would have to clean up later. You returned to your space between his legs and felt his heavy gaze on you as you pressed gauze to his shoulder and began to wrap his arm back up.

"Yn, I'm sorry."

You pressed your lips together, finishing off the wrap with a small pat on the side of his arm. "You're good to go," you said, "now leave so I can clean up."

You were snapping off your gloves when you heard him get up and approach you. "Yn."

"Don't wanna hear it." You kind of did want to hear it, but that wasn't the point. The point was that you needed to stand your ground and ensure he wasn't about to come running back to you every single time he fucked up.

Hands on your shoulders. The world spun for a quick second. He pressed you up against the bathroom door with the gloves dangling from your fingers and your dignity just two seconds away from dropping. You could see the gleam of sweat on his brow, how deep his dimples dipped into his cheeks; you could smell his musk and the blood, the latter having been slightly muffled now that the wound was closed up, but there was still the matter of all the other blood-stained surfaces.

"If this is another thing to get me in bed with you, then you can forget about it," you said. It happened twice before; you really couldn't do it a third time.

"Can you just listen to me for once?"

"Ah, so just like all the times you listened to me?"

Changmin fixed you with a look. "Has it ever fucking occurred to you that I keep getting hurt so I have an excuse to come see you again?"

Your breath hitched. No, that had certainly not occurred to you. But why would he deliberately get hurt all the time just to see you? Could he not just… see you? Then again, you probably would have still been skeptical of his motives—

"No matter how hard I get hit, Yn; no matter how hard you pinch me with your fucking needle—"

"Why?" You asked. Though the word was soft, it was enough to cut through.

He blinked, his good arm bracing against the door behind you. "Isn't it obvious? I like your stupid face."

Your heart slammed against your ribcage. You could hear it thundering in your ears, the battering of a drum. "You're insane," you swallowed.

"Insane about you." He let out something akin to a laugh, head ducking, but you could see the imprint of dimples in his cheeks. "Isn't that crazy? I'm doing all of this shit because I didn't have the balls to just tell you from the get go."

Changmin dropped his hand to your face, the rough pads of his fingers finding your chin again. His eyes met yours and you could see the softness of the corners, the tenderness of his irises as he looked at you. Perhaps the fire you always saw sparked in them were there for a reason different from what you assumed.

"You're not gonna say anything?" He murmured with a swallow. "Not gonna give me a piece of that spitfire mind this time?" Had he read the signs wrong?

"Why would you go and get yourself beat up just to see me?" That was all you were able to get out of your mouth.

He licked his lips. "'Cause I—I don't know. I'm stupid. Wanted an excuse for you to touch me."

"Glad we can agree on something," you said. "But I like your stupid face, too."

And it was the lack of space that coaxed you into pressing your lips against his. Or maybe it was the coat of saliva over them that made them look so appetizing. Or maybe, more simply, this was long overdue. Twice you had fallen into bed with the boxer, and yet, you couldn't count the number of times you'd shared a kiss with him, shared the same air as him.

You were careful about his injured shoulder, the corresponding arm draping around your waist while the other still clutched your chin, but now cupped your cheek.

A moan slipped out of you as he swiped his tongue over your lip and into your mouth. Your back pressed flush against the door, your body shoved between it and Changmin.

"Wanna taste you," he husked between kisses, taking every breath from your lungs like a souvenir for him to keep. "I have to taste you—been craving you for weeks."

His words curled something sweet in your belly, but you had to protest. "Your shoulder—"

"Fuck my shoulder."

You shoved him off for a second, the both of you heaving for oxygen with pupils dark and dilated. "What do you mean 'fuck my shoulder?' I just fixed the stitches, Changmin."

He exhaled and carded a hand through his hair, taking one of your hands pressed to his chest into his. "Then sit on my face. I don't have to be on top this time."

"You're impossible."

"Not impossible," he shook his head, a smile working its way onto his face.

You sighed as he kissed you again.

That was how you ended up backing him up against the edge of your bed and pushing him down to take a seat. He grabbed your waist with his hands as you stood between his legs, lips molded into yours. You placed your palm on his chest to coax him backwards.

You climbed over him, letting yourself straddle his waist.

His fingers slid down the front of your body to cup you through the fabric of your shorts. "You wet for me?" He muttered.

"Bone fucking dry," you quipped.

His fingers slipped beneath the waistband and you felt him smirk. "Liar."

He found the wet spot in your panties, dragging his fingers in lazy circles like he was collecting your arousal as proof. You made a soft noise against his mouth and subtly grinded yourself into his digits.

"Okay, get your cute butt up here," he said and abruptly removed his fingers from you, giving your ass an affectionate pat.

You sat down on the bed beside him to kick your shorts and panties off. "You're so demanding," you grumbled, but straddled him again and slowly inched yourself up.

He grabbed your hips and hauled you over his face for you, a squeak falling out of your mouth. "You were going too slow," he said to you with his voice slightly muffled.

"And I haven't done this before." You let out a shuddering breath, bracing your palms on the bed above his head. His breath on your wet lower lips made you grasp at his hair.

"Baby's a little shy?" He cooed, massaging your hip with his hand. "Oh, fuck me. Sit, Yn."

"I'm literally—oh."

The flat of his tongue pressed against your pussy and licked a generous stripe up your opening.

You swore and grinded yourself down onto his mouth. "Are you—" you gasped, his lips suckling your clit, "—can you even breathe?"

"Why would I wanna breathe? I'm doing just fine," Changmin replied in a heavy daze. You heard him inhale deeply and moan. The sound itself was enough to make your thighs shake around his head.

He prodded your opening with his tongue, fingers digging into the globes of your ass like he was holding a bowl and drinking from it. Tongue fucking you open, his nose bumped against your clit with the movement. That telltale tension slowly built and curled in your belly, a warm coil of something molten.

You weren't sure how he was even curling his tongue so far up into you, but you grappled his strands of hair like reigns and rode him. The pleasure mounting in you was sweet and you were growing desperate—you writhed on top of him, his name engraving itself in your mouth.

"Changmin," you gasped in your frantic chase for release.

His reply was a strong hand anchoring you to his mouth, encouraging you to use him for your own pleasure.

When that high came, you cried out, body staggering forward. His hands still chained you to him as he slurped your slick up. The sound was obscene, and seemed to echo in the walls of your bedroom. Your thighs convulsed from the extra stimulation.

You huffed, brain muddled. "Fucking hell," you said through labored breaths, gently lowering yourself onto the bed next to him when he loosened his grip.

The sight of his face was nearly enough to make you come again. His skin glistened with your come, eyes glazed over and dark as he looked at you with his head lolled to the side. His lips were pink and plump, and his tongue darted out to swipe over them as if he were catching any residual fluid.

"You doing okay over there, Min?" You asked, leaning over to brush his bangs from his forehead.

"Yeah, I'm—" he let out a laugh and his mouth curled into a smile, "—I'm fantastic."

You laughed, hanging your head.

"I've always wanted to do that," he admitted.

"Yeah?"

"Even better than I thought, to be honest."

Your skin heated at his words, and his warm chuckle following sent a jolt down to your core. He reached over with his good arm to thumb your chin up. "I meant what I said, by the way."

"That you're stupid?"

He rolled his eyes, and shook your head with his hand. "No—that I'm crazy about you."

There went your heart again. The organ in your chest never failed to skip every other beat when it came to him. He just had a way of making you trip in the best way possible.

You squeezed your thighs together, his eyes darting at the movement. "Wish you would have just told me sooner."

"I should've," he agreed. "But let me make it up to you now."

You crawled over him and lowered your lips over his; you could still taste yourself on his tongue. "Not with this injured shoulder, you're not."

He groaned in protest, reaching around your body to pinch your side. "Damn."

"But," you drawled while sliding your hand down the length of his body and cupping his cock through his jeans.

His hand grabbed at your thigh as he moaned into your mouth.

"That doesn't mean I can't do anything for you."

a/n: imagine the image in the banner is how he looks post-this-fic

tbz m.list

#the boyz smut #the boyz x reader #ji changmin smut #ji changmin x reader #changmin x reader #the boyz fanfic #the boyz imagines #the boyz drabbles #the boyz oneshot #the boyz scenarios #ji changmin oneshot #ji changmin imagines #ji changmin scenarios #ji changmin drabbles

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cupidjyu · 7 months

Text

clair de lune

changmin x reader

summary: you and changmin are polar opposites in the dance studio. you're graceful and with a "perfect" image while he goes off on his own way, experimenting with different styles. you hate him and want nothing to do with him. until he chooses you to be his partner in a duet.

genre: dance rivals au, their dance styles are opposites (ballet/hiphop etc), enemies to lovers ish, unknowing pining, self-esteem issues (stop self projecting!), slight hurt/comfort, if you ever watched pride and prejudice (2005) you will recognize scenes, "moonlight" notes: based on the classical song clair de lune, fun fact: i can play the piano! also ik u want me to open requests but gimme like another two weeks to not be exhausted from studies PFF hope you enjoy! word count: 13k (it just keeps growing im sorry)

“Again.”

Wiping off the bead of sweat that traveled agonizingly slow on your forehead, you glanced at the woman—your instructor who was also the bane of your existence–with a furrowed brow. She only stared at you sternly, causing you to sigh with frustration as you turned back to the mirror.

You stretched your arms, trying to make that picture-perfect angle that would satisfy her, and then you pointed your toes, just like you had been told to do since you were young. And then you began to move, your fingers outstretched, your back in a neutral position, and your shoulders–

“Again.”

And this time, you couldn’t constrain the groan that escaped from your lips. You let your muscles relax as you broke out of position to face her with a slightly annoyed frown.

She marked something on her clipboard. Oh, how you hated that clipboard. You once took a glance at it and you had almost cried in bed for the next two days over her incredibly harsh remarks. Constructive criticism, she would say. That… that was just bullying in your opinion.

“Are you giving up?” She practically barked, her voice loud and obnoxious.

“I’m not–” You rolled your ankle, making sure you didn’t injure it. “I’m just tired. We’ve been practicing for hours.” And then you turned your neck, slightly wincing at the pang of soreness.

You could’ve sworn her eye twitched as she faked a smile. “For hours because you’re simply not adequate enough to–”

“I am,” You interrupted, your face contorting with exasperation.

She gazed at you with slight surprise. And then she sighed, running a hand through her graying hair.

“Then why do you keep messing up?” She spoke softly this time, but it was enough to shoot straight through your heart.

“Because I–” You bit your lip, looking down at your pointe shoes. You couldn’t even finish your own sentence because you yourself weren’t sure.

Your instructor stood up, picking up her bag with heavy eyes. “At this rate,” She exhaled lowly. “I might have to give this solo to someone else.”

You widened your eyes and you were immediately rushing to her, hands clasped together. “No, please,” You pleaded. “I– I promise I’ll perfect this. No mistakes. Promise.” You emphasized the last word so clearly that it echoed throughout the room.

She stared at you with skepticism.

“Then go,” She uttered. “Start practicing. In two days’ time will be your evaluation and then we’ll decide.”

With a huff of determination, you watched as she opened the door and left. Turning back to the mirror, it was then that you realized just how worn out you looked. Your hair was a mess, the front pieces slightly sticking to your forehead from the “practicing for hours,” which you weren’t exaggerating about at all. Your cheeks were flushed from the constant activity. But despite this, you rolled your ankle once again and began to dance.

Vigorously.

A bit too vigorously.

Every twist and turn started to become more sloppy, more painful. As the song progressed, you found yourself stumbling more and more over your own feet and your lungs began to feel like they would collapse in on itself.

But you kept going, determined to keep this solo that you’ve worked so hard to get a spot for.

And it was going well! Amazing actually! Or maybe you were just telling yourself that because soon after your fake words of affirmation came the tripping of your feet and the falling of your whole body against the floor. Your shoulders stiffened as your hands came in contact with the floor and you groaned.

Luckily, you weren’t exactly hurt anywhere. But you were frustrated. Your friend would always tell you to just take a break but you couldn’t afford that. Instead, you made a move to get up again until your eyes wandered over to where a water bottle had rolled its way over to you.

Still completely agitated, your hand closed around it and threw it as far away as you could. You watched it skid, all the way down until it hit someone’s shoes. Pointe shoes were nowhere to be seen. Just simple sneakers. And you knew exactly who it was.

“Just when I thought I was being nice,” Changmin hummed, picking the bottle up. “Guess this is mine then.”

His voice was just so… cocky at the moment that you couldn’t help but glare up at him as if to non-verbally tell him to just leave.

The two of you were different. Not just from the pointe shoes and sneakers or from the tight balletwear and the comfortable t-shirt. It was just a lot. While you specialized in the more graceful choreographies and genres like ballet and contemporary, he was the more powerful, sharper one who thrived in hip-hop, popping and the like. And while you spent most of your time perfecting intricate moves, he was frequently finding ways to make his performance more… out there.

Polar opposites, some people would say.

The only thing that you two had in common was being popular. Not your biggest feat, in your opinion, but it was the truth. In the dance studio, if either of your names were spoken, it was immediately recognized. The both of you were praised, criticized, and talked about on the daily, whether you liked it or not.

Opposites attract, was what other people would say.

But that wasn’t true. At least for the two of you.

He was just so… arrogant.

“You look worse for wear,” He remarked with an amused smile.

“Thanks for pointing that out,” You snapped, brushing yourself off as you stood up, wincing at the forming bruise on your knee. “What are you doing here?”

“Walking by,” He simply replied.

“You could have just walked by the room then. Not in it.” You took that extra second to look him over. He must have been heading for practice because unlike you, he wasn’t sweaty and didn’t look like a mess. His hair softly fell over his forehead and he had those typical bulky headphones that he always wore to ignore you around his neck.

He smirked. “Just wanted to see how horrible you were doing.”

Fuming, you completely threw away the thought that he looked particularly nice that day. Clenching a fist, all the failed moves in the mirror came rushing back to your vision like waves of the ocean.

“Satisfied? Did you see all the mistakes I made?” You bitterly laughed. It was often just bickering with him. But with your instructor’s voice ringing through your ears obnoxiously, you couldn’t help but snap. With a sigh, you motioned to the door harshly. “Great. So leave.”

You had expected him to retort back. But instead, he just looked at you with an incomprehensible expression. And then his eyes traveled down to the water bottle still in his hand. Out of nowhere, he threw it to you and you scrambled to catch it.

“At least take this,” He replied quietly, no malice behind his tone.

To say you were confused was an understatement. “Did you put anything in this?”

He laughed. “What? A love potion?”

“No,” You sputtered, toying with the cap of it. “Like a sleeping potion or–”

“And who’s going to take care of you when you’re asleep?” He raised an eyebrow.

“You.” You glared with narrowed eyes.

“You’re funny,” He sarcastically replied.

“Are you too much of an asshole to?” A smile tugged on your lips. “Is that why?”

“I’m perfectly capable.” He rolled his eyes. “Just not for you.”

You nodded, fully expecting his answer. And then you jabbed a finger at the door. “Get out then. I need to practice.” Without bidding him goodbye, not even a single wave, you turned around to start the music again.

But then you heard his voice again, calling out to you from across the practice room.

“Moonlight.”

At first, you just thought that he was rambling, saying random things to bother you. But he said it again when you didn’t respond.

“Moonlight,” He said again, a teasing tone suddenly appearing in his voice. With an annoyed exhale, you turned to face him. That was when you came to the revelation that he was addressing you. As moonlight.

“Me?” You furrowed your eyebrows.

“Yes, you.” He tilted his head slightly. “Good luck with your practice, moonlight.”

Your hand was already raising, threatening to throw the music speaker into his face. “Don’t call me tha–”

“Moonlight,” He repeated. “This song. Clair de lune?”

“What about it?” You eyed him suspiciously.

His gaze searched yours silently for a moment. You’ve always hated it when the two of you locked eyes. It always left you feeling weird inside. Agitated, probably.

“It means moonlight. Which… reminds me of you.”

If you weren’t so exhausted, you would have noticed the way he nervously fumbled for the door and you also would have noticed his small stumble out into the hallway.

–

The lights blared across your vision and the bass of the music pounded from your stomach, all the way down to your ears which only worsened your growing headache. You dreaded this party. But, no matter how many times you complained about it, it happened every single year. Annually, it was a good luck party for those performing at the recital.

You didn’t want to go and you usually never did. But since that solo was meant for the recital, you had forced yourself to dress up and finally open that party invitation with the gold lettering.

You kept to yourself, occasionally waving at fellow dancers and friends. But even while there was a particular amount (read: a lot) of people questioning you about your performance and whether you were dating a famous celebrity (you weren’t), you managed to slip away and grab a drink.

You couldn’t even tell the color of the liquid because of the bright lights flashing about. But hey, at least it tasted good. Weaving through the crowd, you were desperate to find a more secluded place. But that was when you ran into someone.

Him.

Changmin. Of course, you rolled your eyes, he would be here. He had a performance too. Which frankly, you didn’t care about. At all.

Your eyes skimmed over him for a moment, taking in his party attire. His hair was finally styled up and you were almost jealous over how well the purple lights complimented him.

He looked at you with slight surprise before schooling his expression into something obnoxious. Or teasing. You couldn’t quite tell.

“How’s the solo going?” He spoke with an amused smile. Thankfully, the music had died down. You wouldn’t know what to do with yourself if you had to lean even closer to him just to hear his infuriating insults.

“Amazing,” You immediately replied, maybe too fast and not very convincing. It had gone badly. Fewer mistakes but still much too many. But who were you to tell him that? Not when he would use that as his new monthly taunt. And out of sheer politeness, you smiled disdainfully. “Are you performing?”

He raised an eyebrow at your obviously faked, higher-pitched voice.

“Drop the formalities.” He shook his head. “But yeah and it’s going to be better than yours. Though, I’m missing a dance partner.”

“A duet?” You tilted your head in confusion.

He nodded, a small, amused smile appearing on his lips. “Why, desperate to sign up?”

“No,” You retorted, scoffing. “Why would I ever want to dance with you?”

He simply shrugged with a smile, which only infuriated you more. With a huff, you stepped forward, furrowing your eyebrows.

“I hope you know that dancing with you is like stepping on a piece of dog sh–” You were interrupted. By your own yelp of all things. It was a common occurrence that when interacting with Changmin, you often forgot your surroundings. It was like this cloud of anger engulfed you constantly.

For example, right now, you completely forgot that you were at a party.

A guy dancing, probably having the time of his life, suddenly bumped into you, causing you to stumble over your own feet. At that point, you sort of just gave up, choosing to accept the embarrassment. But, that was when you felt a hand rush to your side to steady you.

It only briefly brushed against your waist but it sent sparks down your whole spine. Inhaling sharply, you snapped your head to look at Changmin.

“What are you doing?” You hissed.

“What?” He stared at you. “Nothing.”

“You touched me,” You spoke in utter disbelief. The feeling of his fingertips just merely grazing you left you stuttering and you weren’t quite sure why.

“So you don’t fall flat on your face,” He muttered, leaning closer, right up to your ear. Immediately, you were engulfed by his cologne that… much to your demise, smelled really good. “Wouldn’t want to ruin your pretty face.”

You felt your mouth go dry and you harshly pulled away, swallowing thickly. And now, you were incredibly grateful for the bright lights of the party because you couldn’t bear for him to notice your embarrassed expression. Visibly or not, you weren’t sure. Your cheeks felt oddly warm though.

“Well, I hope you–” You cursed yourself for stumbling over your words. “I hope you ruin your… your horrific face.” God, you mentally slapped yourself.

He only grinned. And this time, his hand actually closed around your waist. At first, you thought he was teasing again but you realized that yet again, someone was going to bump into you.

“Don’t lie,” He whispered, quiet enough only for you to hear.

“I’m not.” But your voice wavered.

“Definitely.” His lips pulled up into a teasing smile–one that you couldn’t help but think was attractive–and he walked away.

With a groan, you fixed your clothes and turned around. You let out a low breath, completely overwhelmed by the sight. The crowd was larger than before and the music only increased in volume. And so, holding a hand to your chest–ignoring the weird pounding of your heartbeat from… past events–you navigated through the bout of dancing and laughing people.

At some point, you found yourself in another room, the thumping music only heard through the walls. No matter if you were one of the most popular, successful dancers of the studio, you were still closed off. Like right now, you were pretty sure your instructor would ridicule you for literally hiding behind the curtains, sipping another drink.

Leaning your head back against the wall, you allowed yourself a deep breath as you tried to forget everything. The struggle of your dance routine, the immense and loud party, him and his stupid playful smile.

But of course, that same him happened to pop up again. But this time, he was with Juyeon. Juyeon was a sweet man and you didn’t mind conversing with him. You had seen the way he danced powerfully yet gracefully at the same time despite his long limbs. His only flaw was that he was friends with… him.

“You still haven’t found a partner?” In the corner of your eye, they walked by, causing you to hide further.

Changmin sighed. “I’m trying.”

“What about Y/n?” Juyeon asked, nudging him with a small smile. “They seem suitable. Beautiful too.”

Your rival paused in his tracks, turning to Juyeon with an unimpressed look.

“Beautiful, but completely intolerable.”

It took all of your willpower not to jump out and throw your glass cup straight into your face. You were about to be flattered, maybe even confront him and tease him for calling you beautiful. But to counter that right after with intolerable?

You hated him.

–

The party was slowly dying down, now reduced to slow music for those couples who kissed in the hallways. You would think they stopped that after high school but apparently they still do so now. You were sure you looked like a mess but you couldn’t care less as you spotted Changmin in the background, leaning against the wall and simply observing the crowd.

Approaching him, you stood next to him. He only regarded you with a glance.

“What about her?” You spoke up, gesturing to a girl. She was talented, most definitely. You’d seen her do all sorts of dances, specializing in the art of tango which you admired.

“Helping me now?” He muttered.

You ignored his question, choosing to stare ahead. With a sigh, he shook his head.

“Her style is completely different from mine. So no.”

“That’s what you look for?” You scrunched up your face. “You know it’s boring when your styles are exactly the same.”

He turned to you and you tried to ignore the fact that when his hair was slightly disheveled and the top few buttons of his shirt undone, he didn’t look half bad. Still, his looks didn’t quite fit his irritating personality.

“Then what should I look for in a dance partner?” He looked at you, bored.

You thought for a moment. And then you let your hand trail down to his sleeve. Grasping the fabric, you pulled him closer.

“Someone who compliments your own dancing,” You whispered. He stared down at you in surprise. This time, his expression wasn’t an act to make you annoyed. His wide eyes, lips parted… were all real as his gaze traveled across your features, gulping nervously. “Even if…” You paused, marveling in the way his cheeks flushed under the party lighting. “They’re completely intolerable.”

He inhaled, about to walk forward. “Y/n–”

But you were already stepping away, creating that distance that you were most familiar with.

–

Often, dance played out in steps. One-two, one-two-three, et cetera, et cetera. The wave of your arms and the placement of your feet moved in these rhythmical steps. Or at least, you tried to get them to move in the right rhythm. It seemed that the only thing that was on time was the fast pace of your breath.

Breathing heavily, you stood up to face your three evaluators. Two of them had a somewhat satisfied look on their face, barely writing anything on their clipboards. But one… her. You grimaced, remembering the sight of her constantly picking up her pen in the middle of your routine, even frowning and shaking her head.

Your hair was messy and probably damp with sweat from the vigorous evaluation but you still stood tall. Up until that one word, that left everything crashing down on you.

“Out.”

Stricken, you turned to face your own instructor.

“What?” You stuttered.

She stabbed her clipboard with the pen, tip down. “I said, you’re out,” She spoke in an obnoxiously calm voice. “I already found someone else to take your spot the other day.”

“But I–” You sighed in frustration, stepping forward, ignoring the searing pain of your joints from all the constant practicing that resulted in absolutely nothing. “I tried so hard for this. You taught me this solo, how could you–”

“I’m sorry,” She interrupted firmly. “Next time, Y/n.”

You watched each of them. There was some sense of remorse behind their expression but you could see something else. Something that pertained to… greed, money. You always knew that this dance studio–with its esteem and popularity–always would have those people who bought their way in. Those people who wanted your solo so badly that they obtained it with a simple check from their bank.

But you couldn’t change anything about that. So, with a deep breath–one that was concerningly shaky–you stepped backwards to the door.

“Fine,” You muttered. “It’s fine.”

Before you could even register it yourself, you were running out the door, the sound of it slamming behind you. Again, like those rhythmical steps, you tried to breathe in and out, tried to compose yourself. But, as soon as you turned the corner, away from any watchful eyes, you found yourself sliding down the wall.

Bringing your knees up to your chest, you buried your face in your arms, allowing a few tears to slip. It was refreshing, really. You were always expected to be the perfect, most graceful dancer of the studio. But sometimes, it was hard to keep that up.

You let yourself relax, sniffling occasionally as you remembered all the hard work that turned into pointless frowns, sighs, and pen-writing. But then the sound of footsteps approached you. Still, you didn’t bother to look up.

“How’s the solo going?” A familiar, dreadful voice. You felt the warmth of a shoulder bump against yours as the person sat down next to you. Even through your muted ears, you could hear the thump of his head as he set it back against the wall.

With an exhausted exhale, you looked up, only to come face-to-face with Changmin. You already knew it was him but just the sight of your rival still brought you a scowl as you looked back down into your lap.

“Is that the only way to start your conversations?” You spoke softly.

He only stared at you wordlessly. You could feel his eyes on you, studying the tears that trailed down your face.

At his lack of response, you groaned. “It went horrible. I lost it. Happy now?” You bitterly smiled, wiping at your cheeks harshly, wincing at the burn of the fabric of your sleeves. When you turned to face him again, you realized that his face had fallen.

“You… lost it?” He asked quietly.

You forced a roll of your eyes. Though, you knew it was useless to try to pretend that you felt perfectly content with this.

“Yes,” You breathed with frustration. “Yes, I did. So go. Laugh in my face and leave.”

But you didn’t hear a single huff of amusement. It was completely silent. Except for the shifting of clothes–the shifting of him moving closer to you. Now, his whole side was pressed to yours and again, you were reminded of how nice he smelled.

“I won’t laugh,” He whispered.

“Okay then.” You glanced at him briefly. “Fine. What are you doing here then?”

He turned to you slightly and you flinched when you saw his hand lifting up towards your face. You stayed frozen once you realized that he was picking up a thread of fabric stuck in your hair. Probably from your constant rubbing of your tears.

“Small talk,” He eventually replied, his voice surprisingly soft and… gentle.

You snorted, slapping his hand away. “With your rival?”

“Best to learn your enemies,” He humorously responded.

And even with your tears drying on your skin, you laughed. It was quiet, slightly weak from emotions of failure. But you still laughed. Because of Changmin of all people. With a sigh, you patted at the drying tears.

“God, I probably look like a mess.”

“You don’t.”

You turned to him in slight surprise before narrowing your eyes. “How can I trust you?”

“Just do.” He smiled.

You hummed, shutting your eyes with exhaustion. “Then I’ll take your word for it.”

“It’s quite the opposite actually,” He continued. Perking up, you grinned playfully at him.

“And what do you mean by that? What’s the opposite of looking like a mess?”

“Looking…” His voice was barely a whisper now. “Looking pretty.”

Your breath hitched at his words. You didn’t know what you were expecting but you weren’t expecting that. But again, he was your rival. He was probably just teasing you.

“Are you saying I’m a pretty crier?”

He paused. And finally, without any dark rooms or party lighting, you could see the flush on his cheeks. “No comment?”

You laughed softly. But your content expression quickly turned into a small frown. “Shouldn’t you be practicing right now? You have a performance for the recital.”

He never answered your question. Instead, he looked down to where your hands and elbows were bruised from constant practice. Then he faced you with an incomprehensible look in his face.

“But you’re not performing at all?” He asked instead.

Biting the inside of your cheeks to keep the tears from bursting out of your eyes again, you shook your head.

He grew quiet again. You always hated how hard it was to decipher Changmin. He often trailed off and wouldn’t say anything, leaving you to decide if he was either going to throw another insult at you or finally leave you alone.

With an annoyed huff, you finally asked him, “What’re you planning?”

“Nothing.” He faked a smile. “I’ll… see you around?”

You stood up, your legs wobbly from the drained feeling after you poured out all of your emotions in the span of a few minutes. “Not for a while,” You sourly remarked. “I’m useless now. See you in two months.”

He tilted his head, his faux smile turning into an amused, almost mischievous one. “See you tomorrow.”

You were never one to question his odd responses. He just got the time wrong. That’s all.

—

You watched numbly as your ballet shoes tumbled to the floor. With a clenched jaw, you reached down to pick it up and shove it into your bag before turning back to your half-empty locker.

As you stood there, contemplating if you needed to bring home any of this stuff since you weren’t going to be dancing for a while anyway, your thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door.

Looking up, there was a woman poking her head in.

“Y/n?” She looked straight at you.

“Me?” You pointed at yourself in disbelief. For a second, a spark of hope appeared in the depths of your heart. But it quickly flickered away. Maybe she was about to shove it in your face that you weren’t supposed to be here today. Which, you weren’t. But, you just needed to pack up some of your belongings.

“Y/n.” She smiled in strange relief. As if she was searching for you for a while. “You’re needed in the practice room.”

When you only stared at her in utter confusion, she laughed, completely relaxed which only caused to spiral into more perplexion.

“I forgot to mention which one! It’s the one at the end of the right hall.”

You only raised an eyebrow at her, clutching your bag. Why was she acting so natural? As if telling you that you needed to report to practice when you were told very clearly that you were out as if that was the most normal thing in the world.

“I don’t… I don’t have anything to perform though?” You stared at her.

She gazed back, looking at you as if you had just confessed the worst murder of all time.

“Yes you do?” She replied. “Come on. You’ll be late.”

Maybe this was all some sick joke. Still incredibly confused, you followed her out onto the hallway, all the way down to an unfamiliar practice room. This whole section was dedicated to something else. Something that wasn’t… ballet or contemporary.

She gestured for you to open the door. Looking at her with a bored expression, you pushed the door open and in just a split second, you were gaping at the person who stood at the doorway.

Oh my god.

Your hand tightened around the doorknob, threatening to slam the door closed in hopes that this was all a bad dream. But the door refused to budge.

Changmin. Changmin had placed his foot down to stop it from moving an inch. He tilted his head and lifted an eyebrow.

“Where do you think you’re going?” He looked at you completely seriously. Which you hated. Because you had really hoped this was all a joke.

“What are you doing here?” You still attempted to shut the door. But he still held it open.

But suddenly, another man appeared. You didn’t recognize him but you assumed he was Changmin’s own dance instructor. He had on a bright, enthusiastic smile, much unalike to your own who constantly had a stern, disappointed frown.

“Y/n!” He spoke marvelously. “Splendid choice, ‘min.”

Changmin only glanced at you, slightly sheepishly and with his ears were tinted red. He quickly recovered though which made you wonder why he was shy in the first place.

“Surprise surprise?” He smugly grinned.

You were absolutely speechless, unable to say anything. All you could do was stare—gape at him with a dropped jaw.

“What?” You blurted out.

Changmin almost laughed at your reaction. But still, he led you out to the hallway. Hopefully for some sort of explanation.

“You’re my new dance partner.”

Okay, that wasn’t the explanation that you wanted.

“You’re what?” You practically exclaimed.

“You heard me,” He whispered. His eyes darted to the practice room briefly. “He’ll be teaching you the moves for the first few days and then we’ll practice together,” He explained in a completely calm voice.

What was up with everyone and acting completely natural in such an absurd situation?”

“Are we not going to talk about the fact that you chose me to be your dance partner,” You deadpanned. “We’re supposed to hate each other.”

“Then still do,” He sighed. “But trust me on this.” He stepped closer and in the corner of your eye, you could see his hand twitch—almost like he was going to grab yours.

“How many times will you ask me to trust you?” You asked quietly. “That’s not very easy, especially after you’ve practically insulted me all these years.”

“I know, and I’m—“ The apology that threatened to escape his lips was interrupted by the door opening. His instructor poked a head out with an excited smile.

“What’s taking you lovebirds so long?” He wiggled his eyebrows. And now that you looked closely, you could read his ID card that read, “Eric.” He looked oddly young to be an instructor but you didn’t question it, too focused on the fact that you now had to dance with your one and only rival.

Changmin scowled. “Give us a minute won’t you? I’m still older than you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” He sighed before disappearing back into the room.

Changmin turned back to you, looking at you with soft eyes that only caused your stomach to twist even more.

“Yesterday,” He breathed. “You looked…”

“Like shit? I know,” You snapped.

“No! You—“ He groaned. “I can’t explain it right now. But Y/n.” Again, his hand twitched to hold yours.

“What?” Your voice was meek. Why were you suddenly so nervous?

“I’m not blind to see that you’re talented. And who was it who told me that I should find someone who complimented my dancing?” He paused and winced sheepishly. “Even if completely intolerable.”

“You think that I compliment your dancing?” You whispered. “But we never danced together before.”

“All the more reason to test it out?” He gave you an unsure smile.

You bit your lip, completely conflicted.

“Changmin… I don’t know.”

He looked at you, his gaze gentle. “If you want to back out, that’s fine. I just—“ His cheeks were flushed again, a pretty pink. Pretty? “I wanted to do something. For you.”

Your eyes searched his, looking for any spark of amusement. But, he still looked back at you earnestly.

“Aren’t we rivals?” You asked again.

“Are we?” He simply replied, never providing you with an actual answer.

“We are,” You breathed out, but the way your voice trembled slightly wasn’t very convincing.

“Whatever you want,” He whispered. “So what do you say, dear rival?” The way he said the last word wasn’t convincing either. None of this was convincing.

You sighed, defeated and unable to find a reason to say no. Hanging your head low, you noticed the way his hand ghosted over yours. Was it there all that time?

“Fine,” You muttered. “But don’t expect much.”

He hummed teasingly. “I expect a lot from someone as talented as you.”

And much to your horror, you felt yourself blush. Shoving him with an annoyed (embarrassed) scowl, you stepped away, finally noticing just how close he was to you.

“Shut up,” You said. “Let’s keep this completely professional.”

“Whatever you want,” He repeated, smiling softly.

—

You hated to admit it but the duet was fun. It was so unlike what you usually learned. You were used to the perfectly practiced poses, the straightened back, and the straining of all your limbs to get that pristine, elegant image that you were supposed to keep up. But this dance… was more freeing. It had a romantic aspect to it but it was fun and energetic while still telling a story through the choreography.

A love story of all things.

However, you did notice that it was hard to learn the dance alone. Even if you asked Eric to dance in place as Changmin temporarily, he would refuse, saying it would ruin the “chemistry” between you two.

What chemistry? There was none. You were sure of that.

But even the voice in your head wavered over that statement.

Now, the time that you dreaded has arrived. The one when you would actually have to practice the choreography with your dance partner.

To say it was awkward was an understatement. It was appallingly difficult.

The two of you wouldn’t stop bickering. It wasn’t really Changmin correcting your dance like you had thought. It was just… bickering.

“What if I stepped on your foot right now?” You grinned.

“Don’t,” He groaned. “It already hurts.”

“But it would be funny.”

“My ankle is twisted,” He replied with a frown, grimacing.

Immediately you were widening your eyes and stepping forward. You didn’t even notice that you were looking him over with worry.

“It is?” And just like he had done before, your hand ghosted over his. “Why didn’t you get it checked? You should be resti—“

Except he only regarded you with a smug smile.

“Is someone worried for me?”

You stared at him, your mouth agape. And then you grumbled, stepping away, only to feel a spark through your wrist where it brushed against his knuckles.

“Your ankle isn’t twisted,” You gritted out.

He grinned wider. “It’s not but I appreciate your worry anyway.”

“I was not worrying,” You muttered, looking away.

He huffed. “And my name isn’t Changmin.”

You rolled your eyes. “Let’s just get this over with.”

“Get what over with?”

“This… move,” You mumbled, letting your eyes travel down to his hand. What was up with you and his hands? You didn’t know either.

And by this move, you meant the move where the two of you would have to hold hands and he would twirl you and pull you close, and— you hated everything about it.

“Don’t we just—“ He was the one who took the lead, guiding your hand gently to his. But he paused in his tracks once he felt your pinky link with his. And like he was electrocuted, he pulled his hand back.

You held back a smile, finding this awkwardness all too painfully amusing.

“Do we intertwine the fingers or…” He trailed off.

“Or just hold palms?” You offered, cringing at how warm your face felt at the moment.

“No, we’re supposed to—“ He reached forward, grabbing your hand in an odd way, his fingers hilariously stiff.

“Ah,” You whined. “It feels weird.”

He huffed, his ears red. “Of course it does. We never…”

If Eric was monitoring the two of you right now—which he said he would in an hour or two—he would have bursted out laughing at the sight. The both of you facing each other, hands fumbling with frustrated faces—one would think you were playing a game of rock, paper, scissors.

“What are you doing?” You whispered, staring at the way he just poked one finger into your palm.

“What are you doing?” He whispered back, glaring at the way your fingers closed around his ring finger.

“I can’t—“ You groaned. “I can’t do this with you.”

“You have to. Just—“ And like a leap of faith, he finally reached forward properly and grabbed your hand in his. After all those instances of your hands merely hovering, it felt almost… nice to feel his warm skin properly. His hand was comforting and you watched with wide eyes at the way he so naturally intertwined his fingers with yours.

Your breath was caught in your throat and you observed silently as he brought your connected hands up to his chest, holding it close. He looked up at you, his gaze softening.

“Like this?” He whispered.

“Yes,” You replied, almost breathlessly.

He gave you a small smirk. “Then focus.”

And without a warning, he brought your hand up and twirled you around. You stumbled slightly but managed to gain your balance as he pulled you in, right up to his chest. Instead of just your hands, it was your whole body against him.

“See?” He smiled down at you, slightly out of breath. “Wasn’t so bad right?”

“Professional,” You breathed out. “It’s because I’m being professional.”

“Mhm,” He eyed you teasingly. His eyes trailed down. “Do professionals still hold hands even after practice is done?”

You gasped quietly, embarrassment flooding through you.

“Oh, I—” You tried to pull your hand out of his grasp but he only tightened further, keeping your hand in his. His hold was gentle and warm, which put a funny feeling in your chest. You narrowed your eyes. “Changmin,” You warned.

“It’s comfortable,” He murmured and before you could protest, he was bringing your hand up to his lips. He pressed a soft kiss to the back of it.

Your breath hitched in your throat. “You’re so annoying.” You glared.

He only pressed another kiss as a response, leaving you stuttering.

–

Another thing you hated to admit: you had grown closer to Changmin. Blah blah, you’re still rivals of course. Just maybe… with more smiles and friendly remarks. That’s normal, isn’t it? For enemies?

The dance routine drastically improved. The two of you were comfortable with holding hands now, moving past each other with fleeting touches. It became almost natural. But then again, that was just what happened when you were being professional. Obviously.

But still, nothing could compare to the growth of your relationship with him. You didn’t hate it. It felt nice to have someone who understood you. You learned more about him as a person. You learned that he was always exhausted after dancing and then learned that he often forgot to eat anything after practice. They go hand-in-hand. So it became–much to your disliking–your job to bring him a small snack every day so that he wouldn’t faint.

He learned more about you as a person too. He learned that you weren’t used to freestyling or experimenting since you were so trained to have a picture-perfect image. When he learned that, it became–much to his… liking–his job to make you laugh and relax whenever you got too caught up in your internal expectations.

He wasn’t so bad after all.

He was still annoying though. Just like right now.

“Just once,” He pleaded. “Try it.”

“I’m not– used to the choreography being changed. Or anything being changed.” You gave him a nervous look, your fingers fidgeting restlessly. “And you know that.” Your voice quietened as all the memories of people criticizing you came rushing through.

His gaze softened as he studied your anxious-ridden features. “I do know that. But that doesn’t mean you can’t.”

You looked at him skeptically. “I’m not like you.”

“You’re not,” He agreed. “You’re you. And that’s what I find amazing.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “That’s not–”

He shook his head, taking a step forward. He opened his mouth to speak but you shushed him with a simple glare.

“And don’t you dare ask me to trust you,” You ridiculed.

He gave you an amused smile. “How’d you predict that?”

“Because you’ve asked me plenty of times,” You deadpanned.

“Ah…” He grinned. “You’re right. And every time I do, you reply that you don’t.”

You grew silent at that. And then you let your eyes trail down, away from his gaze. You noticed that whenever you did so, he never let his own eyes wander. They were always on you. Across the room, the hallway, even when you were sitting right in front of him.

With a deep breath, your cheeks beginning to flush already, you spoke something so quietly that he had to lean in to hear.

“I trust you now though.”

You heard his breath hitch, causing you to look up into his eyes. And were his eyes always so… bright and sparkly?

“You trust me?” He whispered.

“Don’t make me say it again.”

“If we weren’t so short on time, I would.” He smiled. He reached down and like it was the most common occurrence, he took your hand in his, leading you to the middle of the room. “Then, if you trust me, won’t you do the thing?”

“What thing?”

“That thing.”

You stared at him, trying to feign innocence so that you could somehow get out of it. But he only looked at you, almost challenging you with his gaze.

Eventually, you groaned in defeat. “Fine,” You grumbled.

The next move, which the two of you had already perfected, was a simple touch on the waist and that was it. But Changmin just had to come up with a new idea. He insisted on a dip. The type of dip that was reserved for people who were actually in love and… had feelings for each other. Which, the two of you definitely didn’t fit in that type of category. Professional dancers was all.

“I don’t think this is going to work,” You spoke over the music.

He smiled charmingly. “Just enjoy the moment. It will.”

And so, holding your breath, you approached him. His hand automatically came to your waist, just like it had in the original move. But then, he slowly, guided you so that you were leaning backward. Feeling yourself grow warm over his gentle touch that held you steady so that you wouldn’t fall, you allowed yourself to fall. Literally, into his arms.

After the count was over, he gently brought you back to stand up. And yet another thing that you hated to admit: that new dance move left your heart pounding. And it wasn’t from exhilaration.

You were breathless as you stared at him in shock. It all came rushing to you. The small details–the softness of his eyes, the hands that held onto your waist tightly but never enough to hurt, the small smile on his lips when he probably noticed that you had blushed.

A quiet “oh” was all you could muster.

He gave you a soft smile. You noticed that was the only thing he regarded you with these days. Occasionally, it would be his usual, teasing, mocking smile. But recently, it’s just been that one that left your hands feeling sweaty.

“And if I said I told you so?”

“Don’t,” You scowled.

But he only leaned closer. You weren’t even doing the move again yet his hand still found its place on your lower back again. And like you were in a trance, your eyes fluttered as you drew closer to him. You looked straight into his eyes, only for you to realize that he wasn’t returning that same eye contact. Instead, his gaze flickered down to your lips. You sputtered and your hands flew to his chest, trying to create more distance.

“Don’t get too carried away,” You murmured.

“I wasn’t,” He whispered. “It was you who was leaning closer.”

“No,” You breathed. “It was you.”

He watched you fondly. Of course, he would notice the way you stumbled over your words.

“Maybe it was the both of us.”

—

One would think that after the routine was perfected—which it was—the two of you would be off to perform it, get those congratulatory flowers, and be off. But no. There was always that extra step of the stage rehearsal.

It was the one where you had to practice the routine on the actual stage, in front of two people: Changmin’s instructor Eric, and your instructor. You haven’t seen her since she kicked you off, so you couldn’t help your eyes from darting to her ever-growing sneer.

You always despised this part, mostly because it was nerve-wracking. Even though there were only two people in the audience, the spotlights, and the music blaring through the speakers made it all feel real.

It didn’t help that your instructor kept writing things in her clipboard. And it was only when you were in the center. For heaven’s sake, Eric didn’t even own a clipboard.

“You’re shaking,” A deeper voice whispered.

You blinked and turned to where Changmin was standing in front of you. It was no use hiding anything from him. It was almost like he could read you like a book.

You shook your head, pulling him into position. But, it was hard as it was him facing away from the crowd while you… you had to face the audience—more specifically, your instructor.

“I’m just tired,” You whispered as your eyes glanced down. Eric was smiling softly while she picked up her pen, leaving your heart pounding. Changmin turned to look at you briefly and you could feel his gaze, focused on how you fidgeted nervously.

“I tried to tell her that she didn’t need to come to the rehearsal,” He muttered back, his hand coming up to your waist just like the choreography asked. “But she insisted.”

You hummed. “I wonder why.”

“Ignore her,” He replied, guiding your hand up to his shoulder. Just like the choreography asked.

“I can’t,” You whispered, your voice almost pleading. “She’s looking at me.”

Suddenly, you felt his hand close around your waist tightly as he shifted the position. You watched, bewildered once you realized that even though his back was still to the crowd, he was shielding you with his body. Away from prying eyes, away from anyone who would make you nervous, he stood in front of you, his arm protectively around your body.

This was not the choreography. This wasn’t what it asked. Yet it made you feel that smallest bit of solace that you needed all this time.

“Better?” He spoke in a hushed tone, giving you a reassuring smile.

Unable to do or say anything, you only looked at him with flushed cheeks before nodding quietly.

He only continued to follow your features with his soft gaze. He never attempted to make you move, knowing that you were still nervous, your hand on his shoulder tightening in intervals whenever you remembered that you were still being watched. Instead, he just stayed put, watching you and making sure you were okay.

Alarms blared in your ears, telling you that you needed to start dancing or else you would be scolded. But, with Changmin’s hand closed around your waist, you couldn’t help but melt. You were sure that the two instructors were watching–probably extremely confused, but you were more focused on someone else. Changmin–whose body shielded you from the blinding stage lights and whose eyes scanned over you attentively.

“Thank you,” was what you could finally muster up with a soft voice.

He gave you a small tilt of his head, accompanied by a lilt of his lips.

“Of course,” He replied. “Take your time. Whenever you’re ready.”

You bit your lip, shaking your head with a growing smile. “They’re waiting.”

“So let them wait.”

Your shoulders shook with a silent laugh. You were about to joke about how endearing he looked when protective but you stopped for two reasons. One–you were supposed to be rivals and that wouldn’t be a very rival-y thing to say. Two–Eric spoke up, his loud voice echoing through the concert hall.

“Alright,” He yelled, his voice laced with a teasing tone. “Lovebirds, let’s take five!”

Clearing your throat, your cheeks flaming, you pulled away from his hold. You didn’t notice Changmin staring after you longingly.

–

The five-minute break came and went a bit too quickly for your liking. Luckily, Eric had somehow convinced your instructor to take a lunch break. As you were fixing up the laces of your shoes, he approached you with a kind smile.

“She’s all done and taken care of,” The younger man joked, brushing off his shoulder comically. You smiled in relief. And then he sat down next to you. “Listen. On the agenda, I’m supposed to evaluate each of you individually, to make sure everything’s down and ready. So, during her lunch break, let’s get that done. Yeah?”

You nodded and stood up, approaching the stage. Oh, but you hated how steep the stairs were. Trying not to stumble, you took the first step. You were about to take the second when you felt another presence behind you. You hated how you could recognize him immediately.

You felt Changmin’s hand, gently take yours as he helped you up the stairs. When finally up on the stage, you turned around to tease him about being such a gentleman. But, his back was already turned, walking away.

But when you narrowed your eyes and looked closely, you could see his hand flex. Almost like he was embarrassed and… nervous after helping you up on the stage.

You caught yourself smiling, your heart blooming into something new. Except, you weren’t quite sure if it actually was new.

But Eric’s voice caught you off guard, shaking you out of your little trance.

“What’s so amusing?” He grinned.

You shook your head, biting back a shy smile. “Nothing.”

–

“How’s it feel? Your stylist looked you over, even giving you jazz hands to help you cheer up. Dress rehearsal–literally meant that you had to wear your performance outfit even when the audience was practically empty.

You scrunched your face up in discomfort, looking at yourself in the mirror. You had to admit, it was a pretty look. It incorporated various little details of what you were most familiar with, ballet. It was a graceful, flowy outfit but there was something different about it. There were other… parts to it. Spontaneous colors and pieces stuck out, representing your dance partner.

And of course, there was romance in it. Roses specifically, delicately sewn into the fabric. And there was a bright red one, tucked behind your ear.

“It’s beautiful,” You whispered. But just at that moment, you twitched awkwardly. “A little itchy.”

Your stylist laughed, pulling at a loose seam. “It’s just one night.”

You froze, your shoulders raising. “Yeah,” You breathed. “One night.” And it would all be over. This impetuous thing. After that one night, you would be forced to go back to keeping up that image that you hated and loved at the same time. You would return to the same routine of scolding because you didn’t do well enough and the scorn looks because you couldn’t lift your leg high enough.

And Changmin.

He would be over too. He would go his own way, dancing with experimentation and freedom. You wouldn’t see him except on your breaks which only resulted in petty arguments and glares. What would happen to those kind smiles that you would share occasionally and the fleeting touches even when you weren’t practicing the choreography? Would it all disappear?

“Is everything okay?” The stylist asked.

You blinked and straightened up. “Great,” You said as you forced a smile. With a deep breath, you headed to the door, ready to greet Changmin who must also be dressed in his own outfit.

As you walked onto the stage, you froze once again when you saw him standing in front of you, a sheepish smile on his lips.

“Hi,” You whispered, looking him over. Oh, you hated it. You hated everything–how he looked charming with his hair so meticulously styled, how the flowy, white shirt hugged his shoulders and waist so perfectly, how his eyes naturally sparkled, even when the stage lights were off.

“Hey, you.” He grinned. And you hated how his gaze traveled over you slowly, taking in the sight. Suddenly, you felt the urge to wrap your arms over yourself.

You gave him a small laugh, stepping forward. There was no one else in the concert hall right now. Eric and the director of the recital must be running late. And yes, somehow, Changmin managed to keep your instructor from coming back in the meantime. It was just the two of you, standing in the middle of the stage, unlit but bright enough to emphasize both of your shy smiles.

You hated him.

But… his smile and his soft gaze. It was all too hard to resist.

Clearing your throat, you played with the hem of your clothes. “What do you…” You trailed off, fighting the urge to stumble over your words nervously. “What do you think?” You looked at him expectantly. He only stared at you wordlessly, which only furthered your anxiousness. Forcing a roll of your eyes, trying to act natural, you shifted on your feet and avoided his watchful gaze. “And don’t say I look bad because I’m sure that–”

“You look pretty.”

You inhaled sharply, whipping your head to look at him again. His smile looked almost fond and he never seemed to take his eyes off you. Instead, he only leaned closer, bending his head forward to observe the rose tucked behind your ear.

“Very pretty,” He whispered. You could only stay there, completely rigid as you felt his hand come up to the side of your face to adjust that same rose, his touch light and gentle.

“Oh,” You finally breathed out. “Thank you.” You cursed at yourself for lowering your voice from embarrassment. It only made him lean closer to hear you.

And it seemed that Eric had burst through the doors, only to witness the two of you stupidly smiling at each other.

–

Just like you had expected, Eric and the director watched your routine. Over and over, you had to perform it so that they would catch any mistakes. By the fifth time, the two of you were practically gasping for air.

“One more time?” Eric suggested, looking at you with pity once he noticed you almost fall over from exhaustion if it wasn’t for Changmin who steadied you with a simple touch on your waist.

But then, the director stepped forward. “Actually,” She spoke up. “I think that we just have to get the ending right.”

You glanced at Changmin, only for him to do the same. Just like your brief glances, the position at the very end of the performance was always awkward. The two of you could never quite get it down.

Since the dance was more on the… romantic side, you were expected to face each other, hands intertwined and held close to your chests. And Eric had especially emphasized staring very deeply into your eyes, much to your dismay. Oh and to stand very close–so close that you were practically kissing.

But, you always refused. Changmin as well. You would take a step back and he would hold your hand a bit further away from his chest, creating an odd-looking distance.

So that was what you did. Which, didn’t seem to satisfy the director at all.

“That’s all you can do?” She questioned, leaning forward in her chair. “Put more into it!”

You bit your lip nervously, taking a half-step closer.

“More!” She exclaimed, causing Eric to laugh evilly.

Changmin glared at them playfully before yanking you forward, right up against his chest. You sputtered, looking at him in surprise. He gave you a small, soft smile, though there was still a hint of teasing behind his eyes.

The director stayed silent and for a moment, you thought that she was satisfied enough. But then, she slammed her hand down. “More! You can do better than that!”

Your palms were practically sweating from how long you were holding hands and your face also felt incredibly hot from how close his lips were to yours. But still, with a sigh, you shuffled ever so closer, until the front of your shoes were touching. Changmin simply watched you with gentle eyes.

“Mor–”

Eric groaned, and you could see him standing up in protest in his peripheral view. He threw his hand out to the stage. “Is this not close enough?”

The director snickered. “Oh, definitely. I just wanted to see how close they willingly would get.”

Immediately, the two of you were blushing. But still, Changmin didn’t make a move to step backward and away from you. And so, you gulped, choosing to avoid his gaze.

“On second thought,” Eric called out. “You’re kind of off-center… if you guys could move to the right a bit?”

After this, you would be done. You would perform the routine on the recital night and this would all be over. Except, you weren’t too sure if you wanted it to be over. You were still deciding on that. When you looked up into Changmin’s eyes, you found that invisible weight–the one that leaned to you wanting this to last forever–to become heavier and heavier.

Ignoring your rushing thoughts, you shuffled to the right, your hands still grasping his. He shuffled along with you, taking mini-steps backward until you reached the tape on the floor that signaled the center.

You stared at Changmin, eyes sparkling as he did the same. And then, you found yourself laughing. Laughing for what? You weren’t sure, but you felt like you were brimming with joy. The awkward shuffling to get to the center, the warm hands intertwined with yours, the surprised yet oddly fond look on his face when you giggled–you couldn’t help but just… feel a certain emotion. You weren’t sure what. Was it relaxation or something else?

He looked at you, his own smile growing on his lips. And then he joined in on you with the laughing, leaning closer to hide his face in your neck.

And yes, you were still in that same ending position. Except, it wasn’t awkward anymore.

“I envy you,” The director sighed, dramatically falling back into her chair. “You have such heart-pounding, romantic chemistry!’

The both of you froze and turned to her in panic.

“Oh, no–” You rushed to say, only to be cut off by Changmin who was also panicking.

“We’re not like–”

Eric only raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms over his chest. “You cannot be that blind,” He deadpanned. “Just look in front of you.”

When you looked back into Changmin’s eyes, you not only saw it–the eyes that you dreamed about more often and the lips that you sometimes wondered how they tasted–but you could feel the now familiar pounding in your heart. You wondered if he felt the same.

–

On the night before the performance, you found yourself sitting on a bench outside of the dance studio. The crickets were chirping, keeping you from being completely alone with your thoughts. You tried to count the stars or the cars that passed by, but it was of no use, as all you could think of were the endless possibilities of the recital going completely wrong.

But your ears picked up the sound of someone’s footsteps, slightly kicking at the concrete. And then he sat next to you. Changmin. It was always him. And for some reason, you found his warmth almost comforting–something that melted away the rigid clasp around your nerves.

“Okay?” He asked, his tone quiet to match the atmosphere of the calm night that differed from your tight chest.

“Yeah,” You whispered, turning to him. He wasn’t looking. Maybe he was trying to count the stars too. “Just…” You sighed, embarrassed. “Nervous.”

“Don’t be.” He smiled as he turned to face you. “You’re amazing.”

“I’m…” You tilted your head and furrowed your eyebrows.

“What?” He widened his eyes cutely. “You don’t think so? Though,” He laughed briefly. “Better than me? Probably no–”

“No,” You blurted out, catching him off guard. “I’m just–” You exhaled with frustration and confusion. “Why are you so nice to me? I thought we were…” You trailed off then, choosing to turn back to the twinkling stars. Yet they only reminded you of his eyes.

“Rivals? We still are,” He joked.

You could only give him a weak laugh in response. He looked at you cautiously before turning his gaze down to his lap where his fingers were fidgeting nervously.

“But as for caring for you…” He spoke quietly. “Take a wild guess.”

You looked at him, trying to decipher his strange behavior. But, all you could get from your observations was that his cheeks and ears were oddly red.

“Because…” You thought for a moment. “If you weren’t you would be kicked off the team?”

He gave you a small smile but shook his head.

“Because you’re in a particularly good mood?”

“No,” He breathed out.

And you knew that there was one more reason. But you were terrified to say it. You didn’t know why but it was just… frightening. But, when he only gazed at you expectantly, you knew that you were being forced to say it.

“Because you…” Your voice quietened, but you knew that Changmin could see the way your mouth formed the word ‘like.’ Slowly, your voice grew in volume to finish the question. “...me?”

And what was even more terrifying was that he nodded wordlessly. Or was it thrilling? You couldn’t tell. But all you knew was that your heart was beating fast again. And it was all for a different reason.

“Changmin,” You whispered, too shocked to form a cohesive sentence. “I–”

“I do,” He looked at you, his eyes searching yours for an answer. “It’s because I like you.”

And it hit you like the spot lights did to your eyes. He would always smile at you softly, distract you whenever you were nervous, and his touches were always gentle. You thought it was just part of his demeanor but now, things were different now. He never regarded others with that affectionate smile and soft gaze. It was only when his eyes would land on you, that his expression would change into something strangely affectionate.

“I don’t know what to say,” You shakily replied, watching as he stood up from the bench. He gave you a small smile that didn’t quite meet his eyes.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” He mumbled, about to turn away but your hands grasped onto his sleeve.

“Wait,” You rushed to say. He turned to you, his eyes filled with hope and disappointment, all at the same time. “Changmin.”

“Hm?”

“After this night… will we go back to the way we were?” You looked up at him. And instead of pulling his wrist out of your grasp, he reached forward, enclosing your hand in his. Your eyes flitted down to his action, breath held.

“Do you mean when I would think of you every day?” He raised an eyebrow.

You playfully slapped him. Or, at least tried to, until he tightened his hold on your hand, keeping you still.

“Don’t lie.” You rolled your eyes.

He shook his head before gently guiding you to stand up with him. You followed and then you gasped quietly when you felt a rose being tucked behind your ear, just like your stylist had done for your outfit–for your performance tomorrow.

“I’m not lying,” He whispered. “I never was.”

You swallowed thickly. “Even when you said that I remind you of… the moonlight?”

He hummed before adjusting the rose slightly so that it sat perfectly in your hair. And that was when you realized the rose was blue, rather than the classic red. You watched him curiously until he gave you a soft smile.

He tapped the rose gently, his fingertip brushing against your ear.

“You’re just like the moonlight.”

–

You breathed in deeply, closing your eyes until you heard the curtains rise and the shuffle of the audience, expectantly waiting for your performance. It only took you a few hours before to find out that your duet with Changmin was the most anticipated one. In fact, it was on the front page of the pamphlet and displayed brightly on one of those LED screens outside of the concert hall.

When you blinked your eyes open, you were met with millions–at least it felt like it–of faces staring back at you. Immediately, you felt the need to freeze up and forget everything that you’ve worked so hard for. But once you felt that familiar squeeze on your waist from the man who stood next to you, everything came rushing back to you.

Soon enough, the music started and like it was automatic, your head snapped up to face him. The beginning move, the one that you practiced the most unintentionally, was easy to spot the differences over the time. When you first started practicing together, he wouldn’t even look you in the eye out of arrogance. Now, even though he still wouldn’t, you could see that it was for a different reason. He was too embarrassed to.

As you moved to the rhythm, fleeting touches on his shoulder and down his chest before breaking apart, you realized that so much has changed. The hesitant grasp on your waist was firm now–protective.

He wasn’t always too embarrassed to look you in the eye. Sometimes, when he would pull you into his chest, he would stare so deeply that the stage lights that already felt hot, began to feel much alike to the sun.

Sometimes, you would hear the occasional baby crying in the crowd or the applause when Changmin would do that dip that you were so adamant on not doing, only for it to be one of your favorite parts to do, but other than that, all that resonated through your ears was the beating of your heart. Partly from exhilaration and partly for someone else. Him.

You hated him, but oh, you liked him so much.

And when the ending came and he would pull you close while intertwining his fingers with yours, you allowed yourself to fall. Maybe not physically because that wouldn’t end well on the tall stage, but in some other way. A way that signaled to him to pull you so close and for him to lean down so that his lips hovered right over yours.

The music had already ended and the audience was clapping and whistling. Yet to you, it went silent. All you could hear was Changmin’s breathing against your lips and all you could see were his soft, loving eyes.

Slowly, you felt his hand let go of yours and for a second you thought that you might have gone too far. But then, you felt that same hand tighten around your waist, yanking you close enough that his bottom lip brushed against yours, sending shivers down your spine.

There were no words spoken but the two of you immediately got the message to close your eyes and… fall once again. You leaned forward, about to press your lips to his in which he hummed softly. But then, the curtain fell with a loud thump and you broke apart. Before you could say or do anything, you were being rushed out by the staff, with only a glimpse of the longing in his face.

Your hand came up to where the rose tucked in your hair and you pulled it out. You observed the red petals, twirling the stem of it until it broke apart in your hand. You liked the blue version better.

–

Your fingers lingered over your own lips, wondering what it would feel like if you had just leaned that tiny bit closer–wondered if he would kiss back. His warm breath that fanned over and his soft, soft gaze as his eyes wandered down came rushing back until your stomach was fluttering with butterflies all over again.

“Y/n?” One of the staff poked her head in. “The curtain call’s in five.”

“Oh, right.” You abruptly stood up, smoothing down your outfit. Your hair was down now, rid of any clips and pins. The rose was long gone.

She ushered you to the door. “You and your partner have a separate spotlight. Since… you know,” She laughed shyly. “Everyone just loved your performance.”

You froze. “They did?”

She looked at you like you were crazy before leading you down the hallway leading to the stage. “It’s all the crowd’s been talking about! The chemistry, the romance, the love… it was all so clear. How did you do it so naturally?”

Your breath hitched, unsure yourself. “I… I guess because it was real.”

She hummed, eyeing you teasingly before gesturing to the stage. You took in a deep breath, and walked to the center of the stage. It was dark–the curtains down with only the sound of the murmuring crowd. When you looked up, you could see Changmin approaching you, a warm smile on his lips.

As he stood next to you, his hand grasped yours and he nudged you with his shoulder.

“Nervous?” He joked.

You smiled shyly. “I am actually.”

“And why’s that?” He glanced at you with bright, sparkling eyes, even without the stage lights shining on the two of you.

“Because I’m with you. You make me nervous,” You whispered. His eyes widened slightly and his hand tightened on yours.

You could hear the countdown for the curtains to pull up, but you ignored it once Changmin had leaned closer.

“Listen,” He watched you cautiously. “What we did back there… did you mea–”

“Yes,” You rushed to say.

Before he could respond, the curtains were rising up and again, the stage lights blared in your vision. Now, you could hear the loud cheers of the audience and you were filled with that exhilarating, heart-beating feeling all over again. When you turned to Changmin, you realized that he was staring back, a dazed look in his eyes.

With a squeeze of his hand, the two of you bowed, smiling brightly. You were about to let go of his hand to wave at the crowd when suddenly, you felt him tug on your hand, hard enough that you were pulled right against his chest.

He steadied you with a hand on your waist. And in the corner of your eye, you felt something being tucked behind your ear. You couldn’t see it but you knew exactly what it was. A blue rose.

He leaned in, just like before with his lips right in front of yours. You held back a smile as you looked up into his soft eyes.

“Is this okay?” He whispered, quiet enough so that only you could hear.

“Yes.” You spoke your loudest, over the growing cheers and applause from the crowd. “This is perfect.”

He smiled before pulling you in and pressing his lips against yours. For the third time that evening, you felt butterflies in your stomach as your eyes fluttered closed. You allowed yourself to finally and completely fall into the moment—into him, into his arms, and into his love as his grip on you tightened ever so slightly so that he could move his lips comfortably against yours.

When you pulled away, eventually interrupted by the staff gesturing to you hurriedly when you peeked an eye open, you looked up at him before bursting out into a shy smile. The cheers were even louder now, which only caused Changmin to blush a pretty pink.

–

After being led off the stage and changed out of your outfits, the two of you met at the hallway that led to the exit–away from the spotlights. It was just you now, holding his hand, swinging it shyly as you occasionally stole glances at him.

But just before you reached the door, he was turning you around and kissing you up against a wall. You allowed him to, feeling your heart beat erratically. But then again, that was a common thing now when with him.

“I’ve been waiting to do that for the longest time,” He muttered, breaking apart with flushed cheeks.

You smiled. “How long?”

“Ever since you gave me that playful smile when you called me a piece of shit that one time.” He grinned.

You burst out laughing. “That was so long ago,” You joked. “There’s no way you– you’re serious?” Now you were gaping at him.

He nodded shyly before hiding his face in your neck. “I loved your smile. I thought you were so beautiful when I first laid eyes on you.”

You raised an eyebrow.

“Can’t say I felt the same,” You muttered. “I actually despised you.”

He chuckled, pulling away to press another kiss to your lips. “Do you despise me now?”

You blushed. “No, I don–” You were cut off by another kiss and his adorable laugh. You grumbled, slapping him shyly. “I take it back. I still despise you.”

“And I’m in love with you,” He replied, playing with the rose tucked in your hair, a fond smile worn on his lips.

—

“What is this?” You giggled, approaching where he was sitting on the floor of the balcony, completely ignoring the chairs that were perfectly placed there for sitting.

You didn’t take into account that giving your boyfriend the code to your apartment door would lead to him breaking into it without permission. One time, you came home, completely exhausted from practice and he popped out of a corner to scare you for the fun of it. It ended in a lot of screams and slapping. But still, he apologized and took care of you for the rest of the evening.

The two of you did go your separate ways…in terms of dance of course. You went back to ballet and high expectations. But at least you had someone to listen to you—someone who always told you that you were doing amazing whether that be through whispered words or kisses and hugs.

He, on the other hand, continued to experiment through various dance styles. One of the recent ones that he learned was the art of tango, ironically enough. And yes, he often pressured you to practice with him. You hated to admit it, but whenever he “serenaded you with his body” (as wrong as it sounded, that’s literally what he said when he danced with you), you couldn’t help but flush slightly, especially when he would kiss you before twirling you.

All of your friends, Eric especially, were delighted to find out you were dating. According to them, you’ve been in love with him this whole time and vice versa. You couldn’t deny it.

Everyday, you fell more and more in love with him. Apart from his constant teasing, he was the sweetest boyfriend one could find. He supported you in all of your endeavors, pressing kisses all over your face while whispering “I’m so proud of you.” Even when you insisted that it was corny, you secretly loved it.

And just now, you walked in on him setting up a picnic on your own balcony. Candles were lit and it seemed that he even cooked for you.

He gave you an adorably warm smile.

“To celebrate your special solo performance coming up, I present to you a coupon for a free date with me.” He grinned, gesturing for you to sit down.

You laughed bashfully, kneeling down in front of him. Like usual, he greeted you with a kiss.

“Are you saying I have to pay for every other date?”

“My love is priceless.”

“Fine,” You huffed playfully. “Let’s break up.”

He gasped. “You would never.”

“You know I wouldn’t.” You scrunched your nose. He smiled in response, watching you silently. You began to grow shy, looking away to stare out at the city view. It was the evening, the street lights and the unfortunate view of small windows lit with overtime office workers twinkling.

But you felt a gentle hand cupping the side of your face, guiding you to look back at him. Then, he tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear as he gazed at you affectionately.

“My beautiful,” He whispered, tilting his head.

Your heart thumped but you still found yourself frowning grumpily.

“Don’t call me that.”

His eyes widened slightly as he pouted. “Why not?”

“Last time you called me beautiful you said I was intolerable right after,” You grumbled.

He whined, slapping his hands over your cheeks to squish them playfully which in turn, caused you to yelp.

“You know I didn’t mean it,” He breathed. “How was I supposed to tell Juyeon that I had the biggest crush on you?”

You laughed loudly, smiling so hard that your cheeks hurt. The candles flickered before they blew out, leaving it dark enough that the only source of light was the moon.

“Then what would you like me to call you?” He asked. He glanced up at the night sky before smiling back down at you. “Moonlight?”

“Mmm…” You thought for a moment. And then you smiled shyly. “You can only call me moonlight when you feel the happiest and… the most in love.”

It took him a moment to register your words but then his eyes lit up. He scooted forward so that his lips lingered right over your forehead. And then he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your skin.

“Moonlight,” He whispered.

“Oh,” You stuttered. He didn’t respond, instead, moving to press another kiss to the tip of your nose.

“Moonlight,” He muttered again, louder this time as his hand trailed down to caress your jaw.

You shut your eyes, suddenly overcome by the need to hide your face. But still, you felt his lips now hover over yours. He tilted your chin up, pulling you into the softest kiss you’ve ever experienced.

“My moonlight.”

You flushed pink, looking at him with wide eyes. “You—“

“I do feel the happiest and the most in love.” He smiled. “Right now.”

Immediately you were melting into his touch before gaining enough strength to lurch forward, throw your hands around his neck, and kiss him as much as you could.

“Me too,” You giggled.

Even though you were expected to keep up that model image, you secretly enjoyed the beauty of letting that go for someone who saw you for who you were. He saw you without the practiced poses and faked smiles, instead choosing to love your random quirks and imperfect features.

He smiled, wrapping his arms around you.

“You are my Clair de lune.”

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