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Can you tell I've demolished the ACOTAR books I got for Christmas...? 🥴🥵
Since we know rhys taught feyre I would like a little something where everytime feyre reads a whole paragraph without once faltering rhysand rewards her like y'know what reward 😈
Btw you really are keeping the feysand fandom alive. They less and less talked about in the fandom.
THANK YOU FOR THIS PROMPT ANON!! My brain worms needed it today. I hope you can excuse that this is unedited and untitled, it's late here and I wasn't expecting to write a full smutshot but here we are. This is set pre-mating bond acceptance cause I wanted to sprinkle in a little bit of angst for ✨fun✨
Rhysweek Day 3 - High Lord
Rhysand is the most handsome High Lord.
Feyre frowned at that familiar first sentence of the document Rhys had set on the table in front of her.
“What is this?”
“Practice,” he answered, smirking from where he’d perched one elbow against the table. She’d seen that look on his face too many times for it to invite any measure of comfort.
“I thought we’d finished practicing my writing,” she said, holding up the parchment in protest. “I can read what this says.”
Rhys pushed off the table, faelight glinting off his eyes as he circled around her chair. His fingers trailed over the wooden spindle as he went, brushing ever so softly against her back. “Go on, then.” He tipped his chin towards the page. “Read it.”
Through gritted teeth, Feyre read, “Rhysand is the most handsome High Lord.”
She jumped as his voice murmured in her ear,  “I do love to hear you compliment me, Feyre.”
In a winter forest, the soft crack of a branch was enough to send a nest of birds fleeing towards the skies. And apparently in a Night Court library a gentle whisper in her ear was just as effective in setting every winged creature in her stomach into motion.
“As the most handsome High Lord,” he continued, fortunately oblivious to those millions of flapping wings, “I need to make sure that the skills of my Inner Circle are properly honed.”
“Well, I just read it,” she said indignantly. And maybe some of that hostility was directed towards herself. More than she’d like to admit. “So consider it honed.”
“Ah, but I’ve been thinking.”
“—well it sounds like that was your first mistake—”
He pressed a long, elegant finger to her lips, but was otherwise unphased by her interruption. Still smiling with an arrogance that only a High Lord could possess.“You may read just fine in the comforts of my home. But, then, that was never the issue, was it? Cauldron forbid you’re ever put into another stressful situation. Where you need to read quickly. And with accuracy.”
Dread boiled in her stomach. In her mind, she saw those stone tablets and levers. Could still remember how the smooth surface had felt against her palm, how she might as well have been wrapping her fingers around Lucien’s neck, for the way she held his fate in her hands.
“So my question is, Feyre, would you still be able to read these sentences if you were distracted?” He raised a brow, leaning in so close so could taste the mint of the tea leaves he’d been drinking just moments before. “Would you be willing to bet someone’s life on it?”
Feyre glared at that parchment, at the stupid ink scrawled over its surface, and tried to think about anything other than how those spikes had felt descending towards her. How the proximity of the scorching metal had burned her face.
“Just tell me what you want from me,” she said finally, refusing to look into his eye.
Rhysand wasn’t having it. His fingers found her chin and pulled, turning her face until his eyes were boring into her own. She hated when he looked at her like this. Feyre knew her shields were up, and yet he was staring at her like he could see straight through to her soul.
“I want you to answer my question. Would you bet someone’s life on it?”
“No,” she snarled, pushing her face closer. Baring her teeth like a wild animal. “Is that what you wanted to hear?”
“Yes,” he said, releasing her. “It means you need to practice.”
“And, what?” He was walking back around her chair now, but she kept her glare trained on his back. Hoping his peaked ears would start burning from the contempt she wished he could feel. “You’re going to chain me up and put me beneath metal spikes?”
Rhys was frowning when he turned around. “We’re going to play a game. A simple one.” He pressed a firm finger to the top of that page, directing her attention back towards the text. “If you can read this page quickly and without stuttering, you’ll get a reward. And if you mess up…” He grinned. “You’ll see what happens.”
“And what’s my reward? Getting to look at your face for five minutes?”
The grin grew wider. More dangerous. “I was thinking I would have you look at something else.”
She swallowed. Tried to pretend that suggestion got lodged in her throat, instead of slipping past like warm silk until it pooled in her stomach. “That sounds more like a punishment.”
“Thanks for the idea,” he crooned, slipping between her chair and the table. “And if that’s your punishment, what would you like your reward to be, hmm?” Rhysand leaned forward, bracing his hands against either arm of her chair. She could smell the wind on him, from wherever he’d been flying that morning. Over the sea, she thought, picking up a hint of salt.
“Would you like to see me on my knees again?” His eyes were burning, and if she stared at them any longer her face would be, too. So she fixed her head towards the corner of the table. A mistake, because a moment later she could feel his lips against her earlobe. “Do you want to know how I’d lick you, Feyre?”
She said nothing. What could she say, that wouldn’t be an outright lie? 
Rhys dropped to the floor before her, so tall he still fell level with her breasts. Feyre didn’t miss the way his eyes wavered there, before flickering up to her face, entirely unashamed.
“Go ahead, Feyre.” He placed a warm hand on her knee. If it was meant to urge her, it was having the opposite effect. “Read the page.”
What would he do, she wondered, if she lit the parchment on fire and refused to participate? His fingers burned her skin, even through the fabric of her loose Night Court trousers. Rhys wouldn’t really make her do anything she didn’t want to do. Not when he had spent so many years under that gods forsaken mountain.
So why was she reaching towards the page? And why were her fingers shaking, like she believed there was actually punishment waiting if she messed up?
… Like she was hoping there would be.
“Rhysand is the most handsome High Lord,” she repeated. 
His hand slid further up her thigh. “Good girl.”
That was nearly enough to make her falter. But she knew his games well enough. She knew that hand was trying to throw her off, especially as he began stroking his thumb against her inner thigh in long, deliberate sweeps.
“So handsome, in fact, that any female should feel Cauldron blessed to be in his presence. And it is only because he is so ma-m-mag—”
The fingers stilled for a moment. Then they dug, just enough to pull her attention back to the male watching her. So she could see the triumph painting his lips as he purred, “I believe the word you’re looking for, Feyre darling, is magnanimous.”
“Prick,” she hissed, throwing the paper down. “You put that in there on purpose!”
“Oh?” The chair scraped over the wooden floor as Rhys pulled it closer, until Feyre was forced to spread her legs wider to accommodate for the large body wedged between them. “And I assume if you ever need to, say, read from a spellbook, its authors will have ensured the words are easy to pronounce?”
“Then teach me spell words,” she growled. “Teach me the Old Language. All you’re trying to do here is—”
The words died on her tongue, shriveling like fruit left too long in the sun. Something had slithered over her ankle, then up, shimming beneath her trousers until it was at the seam of her inner thigh. Not Rhysand’s hands, or any other part of his body. It was just denser than air, and cold. A wisp of darkness, of his magic, snaking beneath her underthings.
“Tell me again what I’m here to do, darling?” His brows were raised, and she might have fallen for his indifference if she didn’t notice the way he was studying her face. Even pulling at the bond of their bargain, like he might uncover a reproach deeper than the mask she wore.
That tendril crept closer. A challenge. A dare.
“You’re here to make my life miserable,” she said.
Soft as breath fogging up a glass, she felt that magic brush over the folds of the most intimate part of her body, continuing its ascent up until it swirled around her clit. Her lips parted, and it was an effort to keep from gasping. Rhysand’s eyes never left her face, marking every exhale that spilled from her lungs.
Then he leaned his face closer, until those perfect lips nearly disappeared between her thighs. She told herself she widened them only so she could keep an eye on Rhys as he took an exaggerated inhale. “You don’t smell miserable, Feyre.”
Pain screamed into her nails as she dug them into the wooden armrests, anything in attempt to distract from the pleasure licking up her spine. Rhysand’s magic continued in slow circles, rubbing just enough to make her squirm.
“You smell like you’re enjoying yourself,” he said, smug enough that her cheeks burned with loathing. For him, but quite possibly for herself, as well. “Which is rather magnanimous of me, considering I should be punishing you for messing up.”
“Then punish me.” Those words felt raw as she scraped them out. Maybe it was more anguish than she wanted him to see, and certainly more desperation than she’d ever admit to. Because if it was punishment—if he forced her to enjoy it—then it would be easier for her to pretend she didn’t want this. Want him.
“Start over,” he said instead. His magic pressed down more firmly. She whimpered, and she swore he shivered at the sound. But the authority in his voice didn’t waver. “Pick up that page and read from the beginning.”
She could have been running out that door, back to her rooms. He would have left her alone, pretended this all had never happened.
And still she reached for that paper and started reading, “Rhysand is the mo-oh!”
If she thought he would play fair, the face buried in her lap was a stark reminder that Rhysand never played fair. And why should he? When she was already melting beneath the heat of his mouth, licking her through her clothes.
Her fingers flew to his hair, tangling in the dark locks. She couldn’t even tell if she was trying to push or pull, but she was able to gasp, “I thought you were supposed to be punishing me.”
“I am,” he said, and then he was tugging at the waistband on her trousers. And maybe she was lifting her hips to help him slide them off. “Unless you mean to say you want this, Feyre?”
The air felt so heavy in that moment, as their eyes met and held. She knew what he was doing, what he was offering her. To have what she wanted, without the stain on her soul of admitting it.
It made her a wretch, and a liar, and a traitor. But the coward in her shook her head.
Rhysand’s eyes went dark, even as his grin widened. “Then remember this—you don’t get to come until you beg for it.”
He yanked her by the thighs, hoisting her practically out of the seat as he buried his face into her cunt, licking up her center with no preamble. Feyre couldn’t resist the moan that escaped, and was grateful it was masked by the sound of Rhysand’s own. He delved his tongue inside her, thrusting like he meant to taste every inch. And meanwhile that tendril of night returned to her clit, just gentle enough to make her ache.
Feyre slung her arm over her mouth so she could bite down, trying to smother every obscene sound for the sake of pretense. 
  Not that Rhys seemed to notice, for the way his eyes had fluttered shut. He licked her the way she’d seen people lick honey, like it was something sweet he wanted to savor on his tongue. But when he thrust at just the right spot, she couldn’t resist the way her hips bucked upwards. Body begging for more, more, more even when she couldn’t bring her lips to say it.
Rhysand’s eyes snapped open. So vividly purple against the haze of desire. He pulled his face away, and she tried not to notice the string of saliva that followed, practically begging to keep them connected.
“Does it still feel like a punishment?” His voice was nearly as rough as the caluses on his hands, scraping along her thighs. He chased away the tendril so he could replace it with his thumb, and fixed her with a cool look as he began to apply more pressure. “Because it doesn’t have to, Feyre. It’s not too late to be good for your High Lord.”
Her toes curled as the pleasure built, until it was nearly unbearable to keep it all contained. Her legs were already shaking from the effort to do so.
“If you want mercy, Feyre, say ‘please let me come, High Lord’.”
“Prick,” she said, though it lost its sting when it tapered off into a whimper.
“Ah.” Rhys flicked his fingers against that hooded bundle of nerves, triggering a burst of razor-edged bliss that had her seeing stars. “Don’t be naughty now, Feyre. I might stop being so… what was the word again?”
Bastard, she thought.
“Go on,” he purred, rubbing her oh so perfectly. “Say it.”
She was so close.
“Magn-ma-ah.”
He pulled his fingers away, cutting off that cresting pleasure before she could fall over the edge. “What was that?”
“Rhys,” she gasped, feeling tears spring to her eyes. 
“You know what to say,” he murmured, ducking his face back between her thighs.
He licked her again, slow and merciless. Feyre keened, and he used his free hand to keep her still.
“Please,” she gasped. “Please, High Lord.”
“Good girl,” he breathed, before plunging his tongue back inside her.
The edge came faster this time, spurred by Rhysand’s fingers and tongue working in tandem. Feyre dug her fingers so hard into his scalp she was certain she must have hurt him, but all she could feel was that blinding pleasure as it peaked.
And like pulling the curtains from a room, light came bursting in, haloing her skin as she came around Rhysand’s tongue. He was groaning, and from the look of reverence that crossed his features, and how he knelt on the ground with his eyes shut, she might have thought he was giving prayer. 
When he pulled away, they were both gasping.
And he smiled. “Shall we practice this again tomorrow?”
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you know what relationship dynamic i abso-fucking-lutely love?? the dynamic where the relationship is the sweetest, purest, softest, most respectful relationship, like these two people are just dopey little love bugs for each other, but the sex? it’s the nastiest, most sheet gripping, most toe curling, kinkiest, most disrespectful sex imaginable where the two just slut each other out. like every relationship should have that ✨balance✨
and you know who i think of when it comes to this dynamic? jeong yunho.
he’s so boyfriend. so sweet. so respectful. so kind. a gentle tall boy who’s all giggles and blushy cheeks. the kind you take home to mom and she’s already making wedding arrangements for you. the one who lets you wear all his hoodies because you’re just so cute in them. the kind that gives you the ultimate princess treatment.
and he’s the kind that will bend you over every surface. fuck you with his long fingers. saying the most spine arching, nasty shit. the kind to use his taller height and larger size against you. choke you with his large hand, and grip your hair too. will tease you while he fingers you, talking about how his little baby needs to be prepped before they can take his big cock <3. make you keep his hoodie/clothes on while he fucks you because it spurs him on further. the kind to press his palm against your abdomen to feel the bulge of his cock fucking into your tight hole. will have you in a million positions. will absolutely treat you like his own personal slut.
yeah.
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[INFO] Congratulations SUHO for winning two awards at the 2023 Asia Artist Awards!
🏆 AAA Emotive Award
🏆 AAA Best Acting Performance Awards
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This is so wholesome tho ✨
©️
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Hard thought for the day:
Ashton says everything hurts all the time when they move. I want to ride them. I roll a nat 20 persuasion check to convince them that they can lay back and I'll do all the work. It won't hurt if they're not the one moving. 😏
They can't argue the validity. It's a win win unless they want to get grabby. 🥵
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There are times, rare and candid, when you lay in your shared bed, woken to the sound of thunder.
Your hand twitches at your side as you stir like the spark of lightning across the sky, fleeting and wild. The tips of your fingers brush the torso of your beloved where he lays still, warm skin and deep breaths. That is, until the next crack of thunder across the sky pulls a thrilling gasp from you and somehow, he hears it, awake with the call of your breath.
It's dark as you try to make eye contact, smiling at the heap of frizzy curls atop his head, highlighted by the next flutter of lightning. He sits up with a groan, finds your face with his hands, and plants a soft kiss against your forehead.
Spontaneity is one of your love languages, and he knows it. Storms are something you watch and listen to in awe, and he knows that, too. It's only natural, you think, the way he pulls the duvet back, and stands from the bed. He doesn't bother to turn on the light, but offers you a hand instead.
An invitation, which you take and rise. He pulls a shirt from the chair beside the door and swoops it over his head. His hand pulls you along, further still, until he clicks the lock of the front door and steps out without pause. You wait, eyes searching and asking, but Chan steps out, walking backward into the rain. The storm beckons you to join him with an intense crack of lightning and a roll of thunder once more. You join the merriment, feeling the pelting of the rain as it takes your breath, putting magic into your life force as you bask in its power. Your lover looks at you with a grin of his own, sculpted arms spread wide, curls soaked as he bends his head back and breathes deeply; and just stands there. Listening, feeling, letting the storm bounce off of him and existing in the moment. You do the same, walking out further to stand against him.
The sky blinks blue again, twice more before a roll of thunder so intense it shakes the ground your naked feet stand on. Chan's eyes are full of the same intensity as he stares at you through the dark and the rain, and the way this makes you feel alive.
It's been raining here in Maryland for several weeks, and the storms are getting more intense. I've been thinking about Chan a lot lately and felt the sudden urge to write this as I sit here in my dark bedroom listening to an intense storm. 🖤
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i'm so in love with this man
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i started rereading Allotrope due to some of my delusional thoughts and once again i’m mesmerized by it 😩😩 your writing is amazing,, manifesting more suho ficsfrom you 🤧
Hi sweetness!
I'm so happy you're revisiting my story abd loving it all over again! I am also forever in delulu thoughts about Junmyeon, so I can RELATE. 🤌🏻😩
I'm happy you're able to get the fix you're needing from my fic LOL! 😘
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Heya! Happy new year!
Just letting you know that it's now 2023, and Allotrope continues to be my number 1 comfort read ❤️
(A big thank you and high five!)
Oh my goodness I'm so sorry I AM ALMOST 5 MONTHS LATE to answering this wonderful message! 🥺🤯
It still blows my mind that people love Allotrope so much, and it absolutely tickles me to see messages like this reminding me that it's still a favorite. Thank you so much for loving it! 💙
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Just finished SKZ Encore in LA... I need Seo Changbin dick in my mouth right now.
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This is important!! Even if you are not queer, you can and should still participate! :)
Do you read fanfiction? Are you queer? Well then I’ve got the perfect survey for you!
Hi! I’m a student writing a research paper on the prevalence of queer couples and lgbtq+ representation in fanfiction and need participants for my survey. This project will be entered in a national (Very prestigious) research competition and will be judged by an academic jury. The more answers I get on this survey, the more accurate my research will be, so I’d really appreciate it if you would take the time to answer! 
https://forms.gle/8sae8vzQRERAzYiX8
Here are some reasons to partcicipate: 
Science and stuff
Force a highly prestigious academic jury to read more than 20 pages about gay fanfiction 
Better my chances of winning real-life money by writing more than 20 pages about gay fanfiction
Help expand a largely ignored academic field (fandom studies)
It’ll only take like 8 minutes (5 minutes if you’re quick)
Uhhmmm…
Please?
The only requirement is that you have some sort of experience with fanfiction or fan works (Whether that be writing or reading). You do not have to be queer to participate and all answers are completely anonymous
Reblogs are appreciated!
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Welcome home, starboy. <3
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BAEKHYUN  in the POWER MV (2017)
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Updated February 3rd, 2023. Includes: Changbin x f.reader supernatural AU prologue.
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softly-savage-mint-yoongi’s Masterlist (BTS, EXO, MONSTA X, Stray Kids, ATEEZ)
Updated: 3 February 2023 Warning: Mostly nsfw.
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Moonchild
Namjoon x f.reader Magic Fantasy AU Smut, angst, mild fluff and comedic relief. 1, 2, 3, 4
Moonchild moodboards: Namjoon Seokjin Yoongi Hoseok Jimin Taehyung Jungkook OC
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Bangtan Summer Series
Canonverse oneshots Iisted in fanchant order: Love Like Rain For the Aesthetic (+ aesthetic board) Love Like Whiskey Watermelon Glow Tiger Lillies at Sunset Your Galaxy
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Chocolate Ganache
Jungkook x f.reader requested birthday oneshot, established relationship. Smut. Fluff. Foodplay.
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Allotrope
Junmyeon x f.reader Idolverse, strangers to lovers. Smut, angst. Mild fluff. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7.
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Heat Seekers
Chanyeol x f.reader Dark Cyberpunk AU Angst, hurt. Slow burn, eventual smut. 1, 2
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An Adventurer’s Guide to Romance
Mini Masterlist
A collaboration between myself and @guardians-of-exo​! A series of related pocked-sized fics for an OT9 EXO! Please be sure to go give her blog lots of love!
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Alligator
Jooheon x f.reader Idolverse, established relationship. Filthy smut. Pining.
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Spookinktober Day 26
Changbin x f.reader Smut
Spookinktober Day 28
Chan x f.reader Smut
Spookinktober Day 31
Seungmin x f.reader Smut
Smoke & Mirrors
Changbin x f.reader Supernatural AU angst, mutual pining, eventual smut P,
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Blindfold
Yunho x. f.reader Idolverse, established relationship. Birthday smut. Blindfold kink.
Spookinktober Day 25
Yunho x f.reader Smut
Spookinktober Day 30
Jongho x f.reader Smut
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Spookinktober Day 27
Ten x f.reader Smut
Spookinktober Day 29
Jaehyun x f.reader Smut
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Smoke & Mirrors
Pairing: Changbin x f.reader Genre: Supernatural AU Prologue Date: February 3rd, 2023 WC: 4957. Warnings: cursing, conflict.
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Well, fuck. “Maximum effort,” I say aloud, kicking a minuscule pebble from the walkway in front of me. I’ve been alive for nearly a thousand years, but I’ve never fucked up as royally as this. Not that I regret it! I think as a scowl settles on my brow. I did what had to be done, consequences be damned. I’m a man of principle after all, and I was protecting everyone. Doing my job to protect my home and my brothers. Yeah, I may have accidentally made a mess of things, but I shudder to think what catastrophic shitstorm would be occurring right now had I not taken the shot. It’s my own mess to clean up. Besides, I’ve still got my powers. Just before Chan was forced to banish me, he told me what to do. It makes my stomach flip uncomfortably to recall his face, just hours ago. The tears welling in his eyes and the way he scrunched his blood-covered nose and gnashed his razor sharp teeth to get the words out. “Changbin… brother,” he cursed under his staggered breath, “I hereby, banish you to the mortal realm.” I tried not to react much, aware it was probably coming, but it didn’t hurt any fucking less to hear it. My face tensed with a disappointed sneer, and I blinked away the wetness in my eyes. Chan looked at me with panic, “The only way you can return is to find a human born at exactly midnight on the first day of the year, and sacrifice them under the light of a full moon. You must do this to regain your place.” “The fuck does that have to do with anything?” I angrily snorted, entirely puzzled at his seemingly random words of wisdom, in a frenzied whisper as they may be. Chan closed his eyes, grinning just slightly one more time at my snarky attitude, “They are the purest souls.” I guess he had a point. In the here and now I close my eyes, and wonder if he can hear my silent message. It’s not his fault, he shouldn’t beat himself up over it, and I will fix this. No matter what it takes. With my shoulders squared, I start wandering. I’ve got no idea where I am, but the busy world around me and language I hear gives me a clue. Perks of being Numen, we know every language, so getting around shouldn’t be too hard. Now, I just gotta find the purest soul I can so I can get back home. At least that stunt I pulled didn’t let the worst of Evil out. __________ It takes minutes to find a nearby hospital, and I waltz and see a board with every doctor’s picture and name on it. There’s a man’s picture with ‘Labor and Delivery’ written under his name. Perfect. Finding the nearest restroom, I do a quick switch-er-oo and give myself an impressed thumbs up in the mirror. Easy-peasy, although I prefer my natural good looks. I try to take this whole mess in stride, and look on the bright side that I get to flex my powers a little more than I usually do at home. Sitting in my obsidian throne for damn near all eternity gets pretty boring. I follow the signs towards the ‘Labor and Delivery’ wing, but a tall woman in scrubs approaches me on quick feet with a stern glint in her eyes. “Where in the seven hells have you been?” she grits out, taking me by the arm. “There are eight, actually,” I mutter under my breath, but let her drag me along regardless. Gotta keep my cool. Briskly, she leads me through a set of double doors and I can feel the cold sterility of the walls creeping into my skin. A baby cries from somewhere down the hall and I realize I’m suddenly being shoved into a room with a human woman’s privates in my face. Holy shit, they expect me to deliver a baby. This is not the labor and delivery I thought it was. Something runs through me and I want to assume the feeling is terror as I look up at the nurse standing beside me. Where the fuck is Felix when I need him, or even Hyunjin. Two hours later I am absolutely exhausted. My powers are good for nothing in a delivery room, and I’m a little intimidated by the absolute power of human women. I’d have passed out like the man at her bedside did. The nurse gently shoves me into a chair and serves me a cold stare as she continues to move about the hall. For the first time since I came here, I breathe a sigh of relief. It’s my cue to ditch the hospital, too worried I’m going to get roped into more mortal shenanigans if I skulk around looking for the archives. I’ve seen enough for one day, thank you. I’ll just have to stick to the shadows instead. _____________________________ Two months pass similarly, although I am now completely terrified of anything and everything hospital doctors do. My search has been pretty shitty, too. I’ve searched hospitals all over the world and yet, nothing. It’s frustrating, but with a bit of luck- thank you Jeongin- the new year is only a few days away. So I wait at one of the hospitals, hidden in the shadows to see if any babies are born as the clock strikes twelve. None are, although a set of twins comes into the mortal realm two minutes after. I’m tempted to take one in that moment, considering it an offering that the mother was blessed with two babes. If I kill one, she would still have the other. I’ve warred with myself for the last two days, sticking to the corners of the mothers dark hospital room like a nightmare. Waiting for the right moment, reeling myself back into the shadows a moment later because killing one of these babies isn’t going to fix this. That is, until one of the masked nurses comes in to adjust the mother’s bed and sit with her since there seems to be no other family around. “They’re so beautiful, you did so well,” the nurse coos at the mother, who smiles in return. “You know, I am also a new year baby,” says the nurse, wiping down the mother’s forehead with a damp towel. “My grandmother always told me it meant I was lucky, and protected by good spirits.” I don’t realize I’m holding my breath as I listen to her. She was born on new years day, too. Could she…? “Thank you,” the mother sighs, looking towards her newborn babies where they lay swaddled in her arms. The nurse checks the clipboard at the end of the bed, “Since they were born so close to midnight, they’ll be healthy and successful.” “Another one of your grandmother’s beliefs?” the mother grins tiredly at the nurse. She nods her head fondly, “Of course.” The mother smiles again at her, “Were you born close to midnight, then?” Her question makes the nurse chuckle, “Midnight on the dot.” I’m so shocked I almost expose myself and fall out of the shadow I’m hiding in. Shit, fuck. Yes, I can go the fuck home! Okay, okay, I just gotta be cool. I gotta figure out how to do this. I can’t let this woman out of my sight. _______________________
A whole three months. That’s how long it’s been since I found my ticket back home.
Except… I can’t go home yet. I don’t know how to make this work. Although my desperation to be done with it is high, my power isn’t meant to be wielded without purpose. Certainly not to abduct someone in public. That would make me a criminal in their world and mine.
If this woman spends one more frustrating full moon working in the hospital until well after daybreak, I will commit to dragging her out of there. But I have principles, damned as I may be. I take pride in getting my way without trouble.
“Y/N,” another nurse whines at her as she walks out of a patient’s room tonight. “You said you would work for me this weekend. You can still do it, huh? Can’t you?”
My target stops, purses her lips and sighs, “Minji, I told you. I really can’t unless you can take my weekend shift next weekend. I have things I need to do, too.”
Minji whines louder, taking Y/N by the arm as she walks toward the next patient’s room,“I know but I can’t work the weekend! I can take any day shifts you want but not the weekend!”
A tall male nurse exits the room Y/N is standing in front of, passing her the clipboard, “I can work this weekend’s shift for you, Minji. But only if you work my Monday.”
Both women blink at him in surprise, followed by smiles, “Oh, Taejin you would do that?” Minji asks excitedly.
“Yes,” he nods. He makes a fist and gently shakes it towards the pair of women before walking away.
I think on it for a moment, bored of watching the interaction thereafter. The realization spreads across my face in a saccharine smile… there’s a full moon on Sunday. Today is what humans call Monday. That gives me one week to make my preparations and be done with this place.
__________________________
I ignore the anxiety creeping in the back of my mind. I’ve seen remnants of Evil lurking closer and closer, and I can’t help but worry I’m racing a clock before it figures out what I’m up to.
It knows I’m weaker here than in my realm, and I hate feeling like some kind of prey while it waits for the right time to strike. I worry it will take away the one shot I have at getting home.
So much so that here I am for the fifth time tonight, in her home, watching her. She can’t see me of course, and I war with myself over her privacy.
Why do I even care? I’m not human, and I’m going to kill her in less than a week.
She exits the bathroom with a towel spun up on her head, wearing nothing but her bra and panties, and the urge to leave her home and give her space washes over me once more. I pause, pressing up against the wall as she passes me, and catch sight of something interesting.
Scars. Everyone has scars, sure, even me. But hers… look out of place on her smooth skin. One that cuts diagonally across her chest from one side to the other, disappearing with the curvature of her left breast. Another, straight down her ribs from beneath the lace of her bra. There is one more pale marking across her hip, curling towards her back. Her skin is puckered as if there were previously a large hole at the back of her hip.
In the last three months I’ve been watching this woman, I have almost never seen her wearing anything other than the armor of her scrubs.
I’ve watched her go about her routine what feels like a hundred times. I know how she takes her coffee, and what time she takes her vitamins. I know that every Tuesday night she goes out for one single glass of red wine and reads by herself at a piano bar.
I know she has chronic neck pain and keeps a picture of her grandmother in her wallet that she stares at with a wistful smile when she’s having a hard time. I know she loves children, and has many friends at the hospital.
I know she silently lets her tears fall in her car when she’s driving home from a particularly hard day, just for the duration of the drive. And I’ve sat in her living room every night after she locks her door to go to sleep.
I’m not sure at what point I started feeling attached to her, although I don’t know if the attachment I feel is because of my mission or something far more troublesome. An unfamiliar emotion washes over me as I watch her scarred body move into her bedroom. Is it pity? No, that’s not right.
My skin prickles suddenly, and I turn to see the wisps of a presence dissipate into thin air.
Fuck. Guess I’ll have to figure out how to keep Evil from entering her home, too.
There’s a sinking feeling in my gut, and I’m confident it’s onto me. I don’t have a choice anymore, I have to protect her at all costs until the full moon.
_______________________
Throwing myself full tilt into protecting this woman is harder than it looks. For the last several days, I’ve grown to learn more about her than I ever wanted to.
I’ve learned her routine like clockwork, now that I’ve committed to never letting her out of my sight. It’s like I almost know her and I’m coming to find humans incredibly interesting. In just a few months, I now want to experience some of the things she’s experienced in her lifetime.
Even the things that swirl my gut with sympathy or sadness, like the look she sometimes has on her face when she twirls her chopsticks around her jjajangmyeon and looks around the emptiness of her apartment with a frown. She never takes more than two bites of her meal when she has that look.
I’m becoming addicted to these new feelings I’m experiencing, and logically, I can imagine they would only be more intense if I were actually experiencing them firsthand.
Evil has come and gone twice during these three days. I was able to fight it off last night without a problem. I snigger to myself in the corner of her living room, shaking my head at the desperation it’s clearly shown. Even if I’m not as powerful in the human world, I’m still a Numen King, and my powers are strong enough to deflect its advances.
Tonight is no different than the last few. We came back from the hospital, she took a shower, opened and closed her fridge with a sigh, and she bit her lip in contemplation before plopping down gracelessly on the floor in front of her couch with the latest book she’s into.
I silently creep from my shadow in the corner of the room to sit on the armrest of the couch, reading over her shoulder.
Before you have any ideas- shove it. I’m allowed to be curious about it. I’ve never read a book, so it’s a new experience. Besides, I’m invested now- I need to know how it ends. It’ll bug me if I never find out.
Around midnight, she finishes a chapter with a massive cliffhanger. I want to beg her to turn the damn page, but she looks at the clock and frowns. For a moment, she thumbs the corner of the page as if she’s curious to also sate her desire.
“I won’t be able to sleep if I keep thinking about what will happen.” she whispers aloud, with a shrug of her shoulders. Just as she’s about to turn the page, there’s a banging on her front door.
She leaps about three feet in the air- but I’m already pulling a sword from the shadows on my way to the door.
A man stands on the other side. The black holes of his eyes and his crooked smile give him away, and before she can gather the courage to come to the door, I’ve already gone through it and grabbed him by the throat.
We’re ripping through the air immediately, and I’m tearing at Evil with swords as much as it is tearing at me with bloodied claws.
“Give me the girl.” Evil cackles at me. It lunges forward in a plume of black smoke, but I twist out of reach easily and give chase back towards the apartment. The one disadvantage to aerial combat or racing- there are no shadows for me to move freely between.
Instead, I have to rely on other tactics- such as throwing a pair of swords and hoping Evil dodges rather than deflecting even one.
Luck is in my favor tonight, and I thank Jeongin for blessing me with it as the weapons careen past its form. The face of the corpse it’s using looks back at me to laugh, but the last thing it sees is my smirk before I’m gone.
“Made you look!” I shout as I emerge from the shadow cast on one weapon from the other in the moonlight. I grab both swords and swing their familiar weight towards my enemy, feeling the clean slide of them through the corpse. While Evil’s shell falls, I realize I can see Y/N’s apartment from here. I’d rather defend on solid ground where I have the advantage, so I use the distance between us to head back.
It lags behind me by several yards after it recovers, and the moment my boot touches the rail of the rooftop where Y/N’s door is, I reach behind me, manifesting and pulling my favorite sword from my back as I turn around. Just for show, I let about a dozen more blades conjure from my arsenal- and my black cords spring forth from my back just for effect.
I can’t help it- I enjoy watching Evil think twice about fucking with me. It’s not getting through my defenses tonight.
It must have dropped the corpse somewhere along the way, as it formlessly undulates in the air in its natural smoky state. After a few seconds of the standoff, it flies off into the distance.
All of this happened in the span of seconds. Still high on adrenaline, I jump involuntarily at the sound of the door opening behind me. Standing there in her pajamas is Y/N, with a kitchen knife behind her back.
She’s terrified, but brave as she walks out onto the roof, “H-hello?”
My weapons and cords dissipate, and I soften. The urge to reach out and touch her cheek jerks me back to reality. What the fuck is wrong with me?
She tiptoes past me in her house slippers, checking down the steps to the street. When she finds nothing amiss- she relaxes. Confused mumblings spill from her mouth like whispered curses at some drunkard knocking on her door in the middle of the night.
She peers over the railing to see if anyone is below, but finds nothing there either.
Back inside the house, she replaced the knife and returns to the couch, “Definitely can’t sleep now.” She cracks the book open and aggressively turns the page to begin the next chapter.
I’m not as excited about it as I was before, now that Evil ruined our evening of reading. Y/N can’t settle either, rereading the same page three times before she gives up with a huff.
Instead, she moves to the kitchen and pulls out a tin of some dried herbs from the cupboard. She’s making tea.
She puts the kettle on and preps her mug, returning to the couch. The minutes pass quietly while she waits, and I watch her eyes slowly drift closed.
When the kettle starts to whistle lowly, she doesn’t stir. I wait for her to wake and get it on her own, but she’s already deeply asleep, and makes no move to get up when the whistling becomes annoying.
I move to the stove and turn it off, leaving the kettle to cool. I know enough about the superstition of wasted tea- so I pour the dried flakes back into the tin and close the lid.
I can’t do too much, or else she might get suspicious. Gotta do the bare minimum so she doesn’t burn her house down in her sleep or call upon more bad karma- that’s the last thing I need while I’m trying to keep her from dying before Sunday. The thought makes me bite at my lip with some uncomfortable emotion.
Moving back to the couch, I settle on it beside her. She looks peaceful. I lean my elbow on the back cushions, resting my head in my hand as I study her features. Her neck is exposed, elongated as her head rests on the back cushion. Her lashes barely touch at her cheeks and she breathes deeply, evenly.
My mind wanders, curious about her. What kind of life has she lived, where is she from? How many lives has she lived before this one? Has she ever watched someone die?
Her lips pout then, and a murmur slips past them. She shifts in her sleep, suddenly turning toward me unconsciously as she pulls her feet up and snuggles deeper into the cushions.
I hold my breath, ready to bolt if she gets too close. Well, closer than she already is. The proximity is too much, and I can feel her warmth and her breath fanning against my chest, barely an inch from me.
And yet, I cannot make myself move away. If Chan were seeing this he would be scolding me. I ignore the thought, selfishly allowing my curiosity and desire for human experiences cloud my better judgment. If we touch, she’ll be exposed to a world she doesn’t deserve to be part of. She’ll see everything, and she’ll see me.
The heart inside my chest is beating strongly, and I can feel my skin heating- both signs of carnal attraction. I might not be human, but I know enough about some things.
Before I can get too invested in the thought, I force myself away. I take the blanket draped over the armchair in the corner and lay it over her sleeping body. Involuntarily, I smile at her subconscious reaction as she clings to it and curls into an even tighter ball.
Closing the door behind me, the cool night air feels refreshing against my skin. This is nice. Naturally settling on her pyungsang, the stars are impossible to see in the middle of the city. Falling snow would be just as nice to focus on, but I’m looking up at a cloudless January night sky instead.
_________________________
It’s Friday. Finally. I sneer at myself and how… human that sounds. As if I work a mundane job and can’t wait for the weekend.
No, for me it means I get to spend two days outside of my least favorite human place- the hospital.
It’s never easy to tail Y/N at the hospital, either. There are too many people for me to walk comfortably- lest I accidentally bump someone and then poof, my whole existence becomes public.
I can’t go walking around here without a disguise, and I refuse to do that again. There aren’t many shadows to hide in, either, because humans like to keep hospitals insufferably bright.
Think positively, Changbin, I chastise myself in my best fake-Chan voice. Stupid.
Y/N is about to get off work, and hopefully she will stick to routine. The convenience store on the way home from the bus stop for a cold six pack and cup ramyeon, followed by her usual shower and diving head first into her book. We might finish it tonight.
To my pleasure, she does exactly as I predicted. The beer was even on sale tonight, which put her in an exceptional mood. “It’ll taste even better!” she whispered to herself with a laugh, and I’m confused about how the monetary value of a beer can enhance the flavor of it upon a human tongue. I want to try it.
It doesn’t matter in the end, as her cheery mood is infectious, even I am impervious to the magic of her. But my good mood leaves me at the door when we get back to her place. Something isn’t right.
It doesn’t seem to perturb Y/N as she unlocks and pushes her way through the door with casual indifference. She immediately sets the beer in the fridge and leaves her food on the counter, stripping off her layers one by one as she heads for the bathroom.
She screams when she flicks on the lights, and I’m there with black cords at the ready. To my surprise and annoyance, rather than Evil in her bathroom, it’s an arachnid.
I relax a fraction, and she tiptoes off to find something to deal with the tiny creature. A sound comes from the living room, and I turn around in mild confusion, knowing she went into her bedroom.
Her book is on the floor, out of place from where we left it last night. The room is full of a thin haze, similar to what I think is cooking smoke. I see it contorting itself into a thicker mass of darkness. When it’s done, Evil is standing in her living room at the opposite end of the couch.
As we stand off, I can see Y/N go back to the bathroom out of the corner of my eye with a cup and a sheet of paper.
Evil chuckles darkly, curling its sinister tendrils of smoke out from its center. I match each one with a black cord of my own, pulling two small swords from my realm. I have to get Evil outside somehow. Or else Y/N will get involved getting caught in the crossfire.
It moves then, like a whip towards her. Striking hard, but met with the burning ends of my cords for each blow. Angered by my defense, it charges me with a disembodied scream.
It’s going to be tough to fight in such a small space, especially without bumping into the human I’m desperately trying to protect. I can’t risk my cords touching her either- she’d be sliced or burned. I’m going to have to rely on good old fashioned swordsmanship. A pair of Hwando feel most comfortable in my grip, and there’s a nostalgic feeling I get every time I wield them- something from my human years more than a millennia past.
The feeling is short lived as Evil strikes at me again, and I move toward the door, keeping Y/N behind me as she takes the spider outside. My cords leap out the moment the door swings shut behind her, forcing the menace back. The force of it against the wall shakes the apartment.
It doubles its efforts- and a tendril escapes to shove me back against the wall this time. The force of the impact knocks a frying pan from its hook. I’m briefly distracted when Y/N comes back inside- and my cords are once more too risky to use.
She looks at the pan on the floor, and Evil lunges toward her again- but I lunge toward it, and one of its smoky arms knocks a lamp from the side table as we go careening over the coffee table.
Y/N screams, frightened by the disturbances, and she grabs the pan from the floor, shouting to be left alone.
Her voice calls to Evil, and once more it shoves me back into the floor and manages to rip one of my swords from my hand. I sheath the other and manage to pick my head up enough to see the shadow cast from the shade of the overturned lamp- and I’m there.
I leap from it just in time to feel the painful bite of steel through my stomach. In my panic, my hands grasped the one thing I should never have touched.
Suddenly Y/N is standing in front of me and her eyes are filled with surprise and terror as she meets mine for the first time. Her skin is warm beneath my palms where I grip her shoulders, and her mouth sputters to say something until she looks down to see my own sword protruding from my body. Luckily the pan in her hands protected her from the sword, but she drops it to cover the scream that erupts from her mouth.
Evil cackles from behind me, but all I can see is Y/N. The panic in her face, and suddenly the pain is numb. I feel like I’m burning up, and my vigor is renewed as I turn and pull another sword from my realm- slashing at Evil with it as I push Y/N behind me again.
Only this time, the feel of her warm hand in mine and her eyes on my back makes me feel grounded and invincible.
I barely remember what happened after I laid eyes on the horrifying smoke of my enemy.
__________________________________
I awake, feeling like I slept for a thousand, much needed years.
The last thing I remember was being stabbed by Evil with my own fuckin’ sword. What the hell transpired after that…?
Sitting up with some discomfort, I find myself in a bed- specifically a bed I recognize, with a blue comforter and a wooden frame.
I peel back the linens to check the damage and it doesn’t even register that I’m shirtless when I spy the stitches neatly holding my skin closed where the hole used to be. It’s bruised, but I’ll probably heal up completely in a day or two.
The light coming from the open bedroom door is interrupted by a shadow, and then a woman appears in the door frame. She’s wearing leggings and a hooded sweatshirt about three sizes too big for her, and there’s a mug clasped between her hands.
“Y/N…” I mouth out on a dry, hoarse whisper.
Her relaxed posture straightens, and she approaches the bedside, “How do you know my name?”
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[SKZ VLOG] Changbin 5
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seo changbin boyfriend headcanons
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genre: fluff
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this soft boy, oh gosh here we go...
he makes my heart skip a beat so this gonna be fun
changbin. the man, the myth, the legend
he's an amazing guy, what can i say? respectful, loyal, genuine... god it's so hard not to fall in love with him
idk as a boyfriend he is just the sweetest guy you could ever ask for. he technically acts the same way with you if he was just besties. the main difference is, once he's your boyfriend he tones up the affection to 100%. no holding back anymore
this man is SO TOUCHY
physical affection is totally his thing. he finds himself just wanting to touch you or hold your hand or anything like that because he just needs that contact
he's not ashamed of any pda. he doesn't care who's watching: he's kissing and cuddling and squishing your cheeks no matter who is watching! he's cute like that
even if the other members were to make fun of him for being a massive softie with you, he literally couldn't care less
"you're just jealous that i'm in a happy relationship"
he's so petty lmaooo
btw i mentioned cuddling... yeah there's gonna be a lot of that
changbin works out a lot. he's got a lot of muscle on him, so his chest and arms proved to be a perfect pillow give me one chance changbin ONE CHANCE IM BEGGING so it only makes sense to snuggle into his perfect body and enjoy having his arms wrapped around you
he likes doing spontaneous things with you. it's always a fun time around him. you're always getting up to some sort of mischief
also loves spoiling you omg
he doesn't make a big deal out of it but damn he buys you so many quality gifts because apparently he can't help it??
will talk to you about anything. usually when he speaks to you it's very casual and general chat. he's very comfortable talking about anything with you. if you want to talk about anything important or personal, he's very attentive and provides you with any support you need
for him, he's a very open person, especially if he has his trust in you. there are not a lot of things he would keep from you. how he views it is: he wouldn't date you if he didn't trust you. and with that, he can know in his heart that he can be vulnerable with you if needed because the mutual love and trust is there
likes to spend his nights just relaxing and unwinding from his busy day at work. there are occasions, of course, when he will stay late at night in the studio or bring some work back to do at home. he tries to make time for you but there are some things he can't help. he appreciates how supportive you are of his career, either way. and he always makes sure how much he loves you for being so kind to him as his partner
above all, he wants to be a source of comfort to you. and he sure does a good job at it
dates with him would include:
gym dates - i mean this goes without saying but if you MUST be told again, changbin loves/lives in the gym. he would love for you to share that part of his life, even if you aren't particularly keen on working out. he also proves to be a very good personal trainer so there's a plus! working to improve himself with you makes going to the gym even more of a joy for him. he would appreciate you joining him a lot and finds it all the more fun to workout with you
food date - a bit of a contradiction, i know. changbin not only loves food but also likes to taste and try different types of food. he loves going to different places in the city to try street food or other snacks that he wouldn't usually get by himself. makes for a fun experience with you <3
late night walks - changbin loves the outside but especially at nightime. he also thinks it's romantic going out for a walk in the dark with the city lights lighting the way. it's a good opportunity to have deeper talks with you as well as check out any nightlife
overall, he's the sweetest guy you'll ever meet
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