when pigs fly 15. this truly was a Friendship is magic
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you will only admit that you actually like kim leehan when pigs start to fly. for now, though, everyone else will just have to suffer the push-and-pull that happens whenever the two of you are near each other's vicinity.
note. i’m losing the plot a little can u guys tell 💜 (pretend u can’t) (i can fix this) (trust)
you will only admit that you actually like kim leehan when pigs start to fly. for now, though, everyone else will just have to suffer the push-and-pull that happens whenever the two of you are near each other's vicinity.
you will only admit that you actually like kim leehan when pigs start to fly. for now, though, everyone else will just have to suffer the push-and-pull that happens whenever the two of you are near each other's vicinity.
you will only admit that you actually like kim leehan when pigs start to fly. for now, though, everyone else will just have to suffer the push-and-pull that happens whenever the two of you are near each other's vicinity.
being the shoulder to cry on is no easy task - especially not for han taesan, who has lived almost half of his life painfully smitten over someone he is confident would never, ever think of wanting him as more than just a friend. he wonders if he will ever get out of this so-called "friend zone," or maybe he just doesn't get the deal at all.
pairing. han taesan x fem. reader
genres + warnings. friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, one-sided pining, eventual happy ending, slight angst + profanity, taesan is bad at feelings, reader is even worse
playlist. don't get the deal by beabadoobee; but i like you by boy next door; somethin' stupid by frank sinatra; about a girl by nirvana; disasterology by pierce the veil; if i'm james dean, you're audrey hepburn by sleeping with sirens
expected word count. 7k-10k words | teaser word count. 1.3k words
author's note. hey goisss... ive had this in the drafts for so so long but for some reason i started working on it again and im nearing the end so hopefully this will be out very soon !!! dont quote me on that tho live laugh love user hangup119's work ethic <3 ALSO btw this teaser is like a flashback kinda thing but the real story actually takes place in their college days
@onedoornet | reblogs appreciated!
IT WAS HIGH SCHOOL WHEN YOU RUINED TAESAN'S LIFE FOREVER.
To be more specific, it was during your last year of high school when he realized that there was simply no way he was ever going to win you over. Not now, and certainly not ever.
Because here’s the thing: Taesan was not a bad-looking guy, he’s far from it, actually. In fact, he had enough business cards from agency recruiters that could fit a whole shoe box, so his looks clearly were never the problem here. Was it his personality, then? Probably not that, either. He was pretty chill most of the time, and he had never really acted up around anyone unless it truly called for it. He always made sure that he wasn’t making a fool out of himself around you, and there were never really incidents that could have painted him in a bad light in your eyes. He had decent grades, so he wasn’t stupid either, which was one of your major turn-offs. And he was sporty—he participated in the school’s soccer team, and he even had a bunch of fans giggling over him whenever he so much as passed them by while chasing after the ball, so his popularity was pretty decent too.
Was he simply not… your type? But that couldn’t be—you were always making heart eyes at Park Sunghoon who was two grades above, and he was told all the time that he was basically a lookalike of the guy! Not to mention you were always at Jung Sungchan’s games, cheering his name even when the guy was literally being benched. Taesan never got benched. He was the star player of his soccer team. You fawned over Park Wonbin when he performed at the school’s talent show, but Taesan could also sing and play the electric guitar just as well. You squealed over Lee Sohee because he was sooo cute! but Taesan knew how to get real fucking adorable, too! He practically had all of their qualities combined into one, and not once did you ever look back at him.
And that’s when it hit him.
It was prom that night, and he was off at the corner drinking from a cup of water instead of jumping along with the fray and bouncing up and down to some Drake song when his friend, Kim Leehan, approached him.
“I’m not slow-dancing with you, Leehan,” he muttered, taking another sip of his bland water. “Piss off.”
Leehan raised his arms in response, smiling in a way that was just so Leehan-like of him. “Woah, woah, I get it. Someone pissed in your cup, or something? Literally and figuratively,” he laughed, leaning against the wall next to him. “Lighten up for once, ‘san. It’s your first and last prom, you know?”
Taesan only grunted in return.
“Look at you; so emo tonight,” Leehan said, defeated. He followed the other’s gaze towards the dance floor, where everyone is packed together like a can of sardines. “But you’re always so normal around Y/N.”
Taesan paused.
Leehan laughed again. “Hm, maybe not?”
Sometimes, it was both a blessing and a curse to be friends with someone like Kim Leehan.
“Stop talking about things you already know,” Taesan murmured, chucking the water cup into the trash can a few meters away. He placed his hands inside his pockets, looking straight ahead amidst the dizzying lights and the dispersed crowd now that a slow song started playing.
“Why don’t you go ask her for a dance?” Leehan suggested, signaling towards the dance floor.
“She’s literally holding hands with Yang Jungwon right now,” Taesan deadpanned. “Are you kidding me? How’d she get him of all people as her prom date?”
Scoring the smartest and the most popular student in your school has got to be the biggest flex of your high school career. Taesan had almost no complaints except for the fact that Yang Jungwon was your date instead of—him! Any moment now and he’d be losing his mind. Actually, scratch that, he probably already was.
Leehan hummed.
“Do you think,” he began, slowly, darting his line of sight between you who’s giggling at something Yang Jungwon said, before turning back to Taesan, the angstiest kid he’s ever known. “That, maybe, if you had just asked her out to prom with you… then maybe she’d have said yes?”
Finally, the gears inside Taesan’s head started to turn. Leehan smiled at the sight.
Taesan quickly scoffed. “No way,” he denied, crossing his arms. “Why would she go with me when she’s got Yang Jungwon as her date? It’d only happen in my dreams.”
He figured it out anyway. It wasn’t because he wasn’t as handsome as Park Sunghoon, or as sporty as Jung Sungchan, or as musically talented as Park Wonbin (though he’d beg to differ), or as cute as Lee Sohee. Heck, it wasn’t even because he wasn’t as smart or as popular as Yang Jungwon.
Maybe it was never because of those things that made you look at them instead of him.
Maybe you were just never interested in him at all.
And Taesan will have no other choice but to live with that fact forever.
Leehan’s smile dropped, and he peeled himself away from the wall. Just as he was about to leave, he stopped for a second just to say: “You’re so—stubborn.”
Taesan looked at him indignantly. “...What’s that supposed to mean?”
And then he was gone, rushing off to join the rest of their friends while Taesan stayed in the back, alone and miserable all because of his newfound epiphany. Though he supposed he was already miserable the moment you entered the venue with Yang Jungwon right beside you.
It was a time of new beginnings for Taesan; a time to finally move on from you.
Though, if only it was that easy.
Two weeks later, when you were working on a final project with him, you unexpectedly dropped the news that you and Jungwon have broken up. Because Jungwon was going to some Ivy League, and you were decidedly… not. You couldn’t handle the thought of being long-distance, so you decided to just cut things off with him since it can’t be helped, you know? And then you proceeded to laugh it off with that huge, idiotic smile of yours before continuing on with the project. Taesan didn’t know what was so funny.
Eventually, he had to share his water with you when you started sobbing hysterically inside of the library, hiccuping and all.
He admittedly felt awful seeing you cry over Yang Jungwon, your high school boyfriend of probably only two months, but most importantly, he felt awful because of the relief that suddenly washed over him.
…And what did that make Taesan?
So, really, maybe it was for the better that you would never look at Taesan the way he wished you would. That no matter how many times he has lent you an ear to talk to or a shoulder to cry on, you never bothered to stop for a moment and think that hey, maybe this guy likes me to some capacity, and maybe I should give him a chance. Because what kind of friend is he to feel relieved at the fact that you had gotten dumped by your boyfriend? That when your heart was broken, he could only rejoice at the fact that he now has a higher chance of getting with you once again even when it is so clear that he never once did?
How could he sit next to you and think such thoughts?
And yet, even when you keep jumping from one person to another, falling for someone, crying over another—Taesan will always be there for you when it all comes crashing down. A friend to cheer you on, to lift you up, to steady you—because that’s all he’ll ever be to you.
Han Taesan was only seventeen years old when you ruined his life.
And for what it is worth, he is still in love with you.
you will only admit that you actually like kim leehan when pigs start to fly. for now, though, everyone else will just have to suffer the push-and-pull that happens whenever the two of you are near each other's vicinity.
in which you you’re always butting heads with kim leehan in your brother’s minecraft server, but everyone else thinks that you two just can’t keep your hand off of each other. which could be the case… though you highly doubt that when leehan enjoys blowing up your houses more than considering asking you out.
the six ways you fall for someone you can never have.
or, a boynextdoor series about royals and not-royals who don't get the happy ending they think they deserve.
pairings. boynextdoor x fem. reader
genres + warnings. historical au, royal au, angst + general themes of royalty, hierarchies, unrequited love, betrayal, jealousy, religion, class division, family feuds
initially was one (1) idea for riize's wonbin but then it tangled out into this whole big idea, now here we are! no update schedule and not published in order of list - just some swag and vibes and hopefully i will complete it. enjoy :)
main masterlist | @onedoornet | riize ver.
without a trace | myung jaehyun
the world must have been playing a cruel joke on you when the nation's beloved prince suddenly confessed his love for you.
prince!jaehyun x maidservant!reader
envy | park sungho
when sungho falls for the princess of the royal castle he works at, he does everything in his power to deny it. because how can he want someone and also want to be them?
servant!sungho x princess!reader
if only | lee riwoo
there was a difference between risking your life for someone out of duty, and risking your life for someone because you loved them. riwoo, your dutiful knight, finds the middle-ground.
knight!riwoo x princess!reader
losing dogs | han taesan
the answer should be obvious, but you still don't know what's worse: betrayal from your most trusted aide, or losing the love of your life.
spy!han taesan x queen!reader
mulberry | kim leehan
only do you ever see the prince of joseon within the confines of the royal palace, and only do you ever love him when no one else is looking.
prince!leehan x noble!reader
seesaw | kim woonhak
woonhak has always thought that princesses were graceful and kind, but when he actually meets one, he is faced with pompousness and arrogance. how can he ever get along with someone like that?
in which you you’re always butting heads with kim leehan in your brother’s minecraft server, but everyone else thinks that you two just can’t keep your hand off of each other. which could be the case… though you highly doubt that when leehan enjoys blowing up your houses more than considering asking you out.
in which you you’re always butting heads with kim leehan in your brother’s minecraft server, but everyone else thinks that you two just can’t keep your hand off of each other. which could be the case… though you highly doubt that when leehan enjoys blowing up your houses more than considering asking you out.
author’s note. sorry for the delay guys 😓 starting school next week so updates will definitely be slower this time around… i hope you enjoy todays chapter tho! see you all soon 💕
in which you you’re always butting heads with kim leehan in your brother’s minecraft server, but everyone else thinks that you two just can’t keep your hand off of each other. which could be the case… though you highly doubt that when leehan enjoys blowing up your houses more than considering asking you out.
demon!ji changmin x reader (no pronouns used, but original fic was f!reader)
love. — what is love if not your steady heartbeat in his ear when he thinks you should be afraid?
4.7k words, established relationship, demon/supernatural creatures au, mild angst, very minor humor, bit of fluff?, mentions of blood, so much intimacy (skinship, cheek/stomach kisses), mentions of insecurities, swearing, use of pet names (love, sweetheart)
read night terrors / peruse the collection post
a/n: this lowkey just became a character study of demon changmin
THERE WEREN'T MANY INSTANCES where you were afraid for Changmin, nor were there many instances where you were afraid of him. You expected that he strived to avoid either of said instances, especially regarding the latter. After all the two of you had experienced with one another, it seemed important to him that you could trust him and were not scared.
It was sometimes difficult for you to articulate to him that he did not frighten you. Part of that reason, you guessed, was simply the nature of his species. What was he but a mortal's night terror, a creature of evil? To him, you should have been sleeping with a stake beneath your pillow—or rather, you shouldn't have had enough trust to sleep next to him at all.
But several months under your relationship's belt was beginning to ease his concerns. The long drives up and down the state, chasing his strange assignments for work, had slowly become something he could look forward to. Sunshine or rain battering the windows, he would glance away from the dense fog outside to see you holding on desperately to the waking world, or feel your fingers curl around his hand when sleep stole you away.
Most of the time, it was hardly dangerous and you didn't mind tagging along with him. You'd grown used to the nomad lifestyle, seemingly content with spending a couple weeks in Moonstone Creek from time to time, and the rest of it with him.
You loved him; you always made that clear. The ring on your right ring finger was proof that he knew that and reciprocated.
There were always, however, doubts. Changmin always had doubts.
“—And I'll get that blueberry muffin creamer you liked yesterday, too.”
Changmin broke out of the bubble he'd trapped himself in at the sensation of your lips against his cheek. This mortal body he had flushed at the feeling, his hand swift to stop you from leaving just yet, like an instinct.
He wrapped an arm around your waist, and his face was level with your stomach from the chair he sat in. The hotels you usually stayed at on your routes always came with a desk and chair, so you could work on Moonstone Creek's finances or he could research. He pressed a kiss to your clothed stomach, his hand squeezing your waist affectionately. “Thanks, sweetheart.”
Your smiling eyes met his and you combed your hand through his hair once, twice. “I'll be back soon. You just keep your head in those books.”
He grumbled something against your stomach—‘I thought college was the last time I'd be pouring over texts’—and your laugh twinkled over his head. He hadn't even been paying attention to the texts he brought; really, his head was elsewhere today.
“That's your fault for being an anthropology major and for literally chasing down ancient artifacts as your main source of income.”
“That was so unhelpful.”
Another comb through his hair. He could melt. “Just being honest,” you sang amusedly. “Okay, but I should get a move on. All their pastries are gonna be gone, and their danishes smelled really good yesterday.”
He hummed. “Stay safe.” Another kiss.
Your hand settled at the nape of his neck. “I will. Love you.”
The words warmed in his chest. Just as you were pulling away, his grip tightened for a moment. “You have Clyde?” He couldn't let anything happen to you.
“Yes—” you patted your jacket pocket, “—Clyde’s where he's always been. And Bonnie?”
“You know she's not moving,” he said, cocking a brow at you.
You bit your lip through a small laugh and slowly moved toward the hotel room door, shoving your wallet and the room key into your pockets. “Okay. Happy reading then, love.”
“Unhappy reading,” he groaned into his hand, which was followed by your laugh and the door closing behind you. The corners of his lips lifted into a smile.
He counted a few seconds in case you had forgotten something, then went over to grab his phone from the nightstand. Settling on the edge of the bed, he pulled up the text thread he had between himself and Sangyeon.
sangyeon: okay so don't freak out [sent an image]
sangyeon: but i found this lying around my house the other day, and i asked lily abt it and she said yn was on the fence abt showing u
Changmin could recognize your handwriting against Lily's in the picture. The image was a clear scan of a piece of paper, who's centerpiece was that of a house. It was a roughly drawn blueprint of a cottage, something small, cozy, homely. The house, as you outlined, wasn't large at all, but with one full floor, an attic, and a porch. There were notes all around the house in your familiar scrawl, writing about the projected cost of each thing—typical of you to think about practicality, even in your fantasy house blueprint—as well as features you'd like installed, like a fireplace and a porch swing.
It reminded him so much of Sena's house in the suburbs in a way… had you thought about this while you were there? A place you could call home, some place to settle down eventually, and finally have a slice of normalcy?
sangyeon: lily said she coaxed it out of yn, which is why yn didn't want to share it and make it seem like she was forcing u into anything u weren't comfortable w
sangyeon: but i think that u love her enough to hear her out
sangyeon: idk… it's ur call ofc whether or not u want to have that conversation yet
Changmin always had doubts. He'd learned during his time on the mortal plane to slow down and feel the weight of another's emotions, and what inevitably came with empathy was insecurity.
You loved him; that was why his ring was on your finger and you would never bring up the cottage you confided to Lily about. You loved him, and knew that there was an unmistakable itch in him that could only be scratched when he was able to move, to not be chained to one place. But humans were different from demons, and your experiences were different from his.
He always had doubts that you might never be fully content with this life he led.
He sighed, massaging his jaw absentmindedly with one hand. Sangyeon had sent him those messages two days ago when you and he were driving to this sleepy town, tucked away at the foot of a mountain range. You'd been asleep when they were received, which was why you didn't see the notifications. Changmin could do as little then as he could now, and he basically replied to Sangyeon that he would think about it and talk to you.
At some point.
That was before he realized that it would be all he could think about. There was no word for 'selfish’ or 'selfless’ in demonic culture. It was either you did something to help yourself or harm yourself—usually, those who didn't act for their own benefit were thought of as weaker willed. It was difficult to dismantle methods of thinking like this in order to view the world and his interactions in a different way.
Changmin abandoned his phone on the nightstand so that he could step over to the window and shove it open. The lever was rusty and squealed as he cranked it counterclockwise to let in the fresh pine morning and the natural white noise.
Maybe this would help him focus on work or gain the courage to talk to you when you came back.
Changmin barely glanced up in time to see a blurry mass hurtling toward his face. “Shit.”
He dropped to the floor.
A gleeful and tinny laugh like the rattle inside an aluminum can filled the room. The spike of shock in his heart was replaced very quickly with red, hot annoyance.
“You have got to be kidding me,” he grunted, clambering to his feet, eyes narrowed on the pixie who had invaded his space. “Don't you fuckers ever knock?”
The pixie was only about a foot and a half tall, its translucent, membranous wings fluttering at the speed of a human eye's blink. This one in particular had a pair of orbs as dark as the lowest circles of Hell for eyes and two racks of jagged teeth lining its gums. The pixie buzzed around the room, careful to remain out of Changmin's reach.
Fuckass supernatural mosquito….
“You hide your true form, demon,” its voice crackled like tin foil. “Naughty, naughty.”
Changmin's nostrils flared. “What's it to you, imp?”
“The darkness that lies deep within you—I can smell it—hear it.” The pixie zipped around the room over Changmin's head, and he gritted his teeth, attempting to clamp his hands around it. It squealed in delight, black eyes going wider and wider as if it could gaze straight into his soul. “What if we open the door, demon? Ah—I smell a human in this room!”
He stiffened. “You’re only smelling my human form,” he bit out.
“Must you need a reminder? I can smell your true form and I can smell lies.”
Changmin stumbled back as the pixie flew directly in front of his face, then fluttered out of reach before he could snatch the piece of shit out of the air. The organ in his chest continued to hurtle toward overdrive—the pixie could smell you. The pixie could smell you. “I will rip the wings from your back if you even think about touching my human,” he growled.
The pixie gasped, clapping its tiny, pale hands. “Oh-ho! The claws become you! Won't you show a little more skin, demon?”
His eyes turned down to his hands, palms turned upward, the tips of his fingers turned an ash gray. Where his chipped fingernails had been, now sat a full set of dagger-sharp claws. He hadn't even realized he'd transformed them.
“What color does a pixie bleed?” Changmin lunged for the pixie with his claws outstretched.
The pixie dove out of the way, the claw just barely missing the edge of its leg. “Does your human taste divine?”
“None of your fucking business.”
“Not very fun are you, demon?” The pixie whizzed past his ear, behind his head—Changmin whirled about on the ball of his foot.
He slammed his palm forward, claws denting the plaster, nightstand digging into his thighs. As the pixie rose up toward the ceiling to stay out of harm's way, Changmin climbed onto the bed, determination coursing through his veins.
“Would you like a riddle?”
Changmin swiped his hand, relishing in the splatter of clear liquid that glittered in the air—blood. The pixie's eyes widened, this time in fear. “Why would I want a riddle?”
A tremble marked the pixie's voice. “Twin halves of old, sealed by a third / like matches, they will spark the world to burn—” Its words were cut off as it swooped out of the way, its clear blood trailing behind it as Changmin's breathing grew heavier, eyes narrowing. “To save three—”
A loud crinkle, akin to a dozen small bones being crushed. A shrill shriek, nails on a chalkboard. A demonic smirk as he clutched a fragmented wing in his clawed hand.
“You were saying?” he taunted, bringing the flailing pixie close to his face. Changmin couldn't deny the rush of deep, animalistic satisfaction that purred in his chest at his caught prey. Whatever this pixie had in mind for you would never come to fruition.
“You're a fool to not heed my warning—” it spat, its agony spilling in glittery globs, “—such actions are so true to your species, my liege.”
The impact of the title came accompanied by a flurry of something bright yellow and fuzzy thrown right into Changmin's face. Alarmed, he dropped the pixie and scrambled to claw the dust out of his eyes and mouth. He spluttered and spat the substance onto the hotel room floor; upon hands and knees, he tried desperately to get ahold of his bearings.
What the fuck was this stuff?
He could hear the blood pulsing in his ears, feel the transformation taking place. There was energy going toward places on his body to grow extremities he hadn't seen in years.
No, no, no—
Changmin gagged on the pixie's dust, its acrid taste a reflection of the bitter effects to show. He screwed his eyes shut—willed his body to take control of itself. When his hands went over his head, he swore at the feeling of the twin horns curling out of his crown.
Every one of his once-human senses were dialed to eleven. Voices and car motors and leaves crunching bombarded his ears; the intricately disgusting layers of odors in the carpet separated themselves beneath him. The sensations overwhelmed him from disuse. He held his head in his arms, panic weighing down and around his bones.
When the transformation was complete, he was left in haggard breaths. His arms shook as he pushed himself onto his hands and knees, then to brace against the hotel bed.
The pixie was gone, naturally, and likely escaped out the window from where it came in.
Changmin splayed his clawed hands beneath him on the white sheets.
He shook his head, attempting to clear his mind and reign in the sensations to focus on the most important ones. Everything else could be background for now; all he needed was—was that.
There—it was faint, but approaching by the second. Humming.
It was a soft, familiar sound that curled around his taut spine with the tenderness of a lover's caress. A heartbeat followed, slow but steady and sure. The pattern was also familiar, accompanied by leisurely footsteps and the smell of dark coffee and pastries.
If he could just focus on those sensations in particular…
Then the thought hit him like a truck.
That was you. The voice, the heartbeat, the footsteps.
You would return at any moment and see him in this state. Changmin could practically feel the fear that would roll off you in waves (or was that his own?), and he lunged for the bathroom.
He stumbled into the dark chamber, fearing the reflection he'd find in the mirror should he turn the light on. The door slammed shut behind him and that darkness enveloped him.
There was your heartbeat again—ba-dum, ba-dum, ba-dum—still faint, but becoming clearer.
Slowly, he raised his head up to face the mirror on the bathroom wall. The dooming sense of acceptance dulled his own reaction.
Twin horns, onyx in color, curled out from the tufts of his hair, hard and unmistakable. His skin had taken on the grayish tint of his kind from the black blood that now ripped through his veins. There were the claws, of course, and the slim, wiry tail speared at the end with a sharp spade and a mind of its own. Fangs, jagged and like small knives, peaked their points out past his lips, and he snapped his mouth shut to keep the forked tongue from tasting air. His eyes had become that of a predator's, the pupils dark as night and slimmer in shape—all the better for a deeper field of focus.
In Hell, the consistent lack of bright light made it so that pinpoint eyes were sought after; it was better to see in the dark and pick apart the deep shades of red, black, purple, and blues. And, well, any sudden movement.
Changmin didn't know why he tried to fool himself into thinking keeping the bathroom lights off would change anything.
Your heartbeat was coming closer, louder. His breathing was beginning to even out as he matched his own to the sound of air rushing through your trachea, then exhaling through your nose.
He could get himself back to his human form before you got back. He could do it—he swore he could.
Focus.
It required so much focus and energy, but… but he could do it. He could do it before you saw him like this, before that calm heartbeat became erratic, and you became afraid—afraid of him.
His breathing deepened as he sucked in a lungful of oxygen. In… out.
Going from demonic form to human form in the mortal plane would be easy.
It should have been easy.
Seconds passed, and your footsteps approached from down the hall. There came the crinkle of a paper bag, shuffling of cardboard, as you shifted things in your hold to grab the room key from your pocket. The aroma of the pastries and coffee you brought back wafted into his nose, but not with the strength that your scent permeated every one of his senses—
Why couldn't he shift back?
He curled his hands into fists on the counter, frustration making his fangs scrape against each other.
Why wasn't he able to shift back? It was supposed to be easy—
The door outside clicked open and fell shut. “Changmin? Hey, I'm back.”
He stilled. The words to call back to you were lodged in his throat, unable to form upon the accursed forked tongue in his mouth. Panic seized him by the ribcage and he suddenly found it suffocating to breathe.
There was silence on your end, and he could hear your heartbeat slowly begin to quicken. “Are you—are you okay? The wall's dented, and the—and the sheets…”
Your footsteps arrived before the bathroom door, and at the same time he heard the door handle jiggle, he slammed his hand against it to bar you from coming in.
Changmin could feel your leap of fright; his shoulders sagged with regret. It probably wasn't the best idea to do that. “Don't—” he cleared his throat from the grittiness there, “—don’t come in.”
Your heartbeat calmed then, after hearing back from him. “I won't,” you promised. “Is everything okay?”
I look like a monster. Some dumb fucking pixie made it so I can't shift forms. And I can't lock the stupid door because my nails are too long.
But you didn't need to know all of that.
He hung his head, attempting to feel that tendril of power in him that he could grapple onto to trigger the transformation. Nothing. “I'm… I'm fine,” he choked out. “I—”
The corded necklace that was hidden beneath his shirt swung out into his view. His half of the pendant was not pulsing with life like yours was; it was connected to your heart, after all. But he curled his fingers around it nonetheless, his ears singling out your pulse.
Ba-dum, ba-dum, ba-dum...
“... Changmin? Can I do something to help?”
He needed time. Fuck, he just needed to wait this stupid pixie dust out. His first thought was to send you away so you wouldn't see him at all. The next was a counter to the former—he needed your pulse. That was his anchor.
The energy was slowly seeping from his bodily stores to sustain this form in this realm. Maybe if the pixie dust didn't wear off, he could tire his body into transforming.
Your voice came out even softer. “Hey, what's going on, love?”
His forehead hit the door, eyes fluttering shut. “I'm not… I don't look like myself right now.” The self you're used to, at least. “A pixie came into the room and—and it did threw something at me to force me to transform.”
“Into…?”
There was a light thump sound from the other side of the door as you leaned against it. Your warmth radiated through the wood, and the little monster inside him leaned into it. “My demon form.”
Changmin loathed the silence, your held breath. The acceptance washed over him in a deafening wave like his head was being held underwater.
“Okay,” you exhaled, finally. “That’s okay… and so you're not able to turn back, is that it?”
His eyes couldn't help but narrow. “You're not scared.” The scent rolling off you wasn't that of fear.
“Why would I be scared of you?”
Changmin's breath shuddered. There were plenty of reasons for you to be scared once you saw him. This body was made to harm. “I can hear your heartbeat.”
“I'm not scar—”
“I could hear it from the street, Yn.” He didn't know what to do about the leap in your pulse, the way that steady ba-dum, ba-dum, ba-dum tripped over itself. Something at the back of his mind urged him to continue—to tell you everything and convince you to be scared. “I can feel the heat from your blood and smell the hotel soap on your skin.”
A beat passed. “That doesn't scare me.”
If you were anyone else, he would have laughed in your face. Foolish, foolish human. But you weren't just anyone else, and he couldn't get your terror out of his head.
When he didn't say anything for a moment, you murmured, “Love, can I come in? Can I see you?”
Changmin swallowed. “I don't want to scare you.”
“I know—but I trust you.” Your hand warmed the door handle on the other side, the soft clink of his ring against the metal echoing through the material to reach him. “Do you trust me?”
(If demons ultimately were motivated to do things that would help them, then he should open the door. To his brethren, a human willingly walking into his clutches was a mark too easy not to lose. But the reason they would want you to come in through the door was nowhere near the same reason he wanted you to.
If demonic culture didn't have a word for selfish or selfless, then what was this?)
He leaned his weight off the door.
With his body mostly hidden behind the slab of wood, he carefully cracked the door open, his claws wrapped around the outside, so you would be fed his demonic form gradually. You'd seen the claws before when he'd gouged a siren's eyes out. But your eyes drank in the ashen skin around his features—death incarnate—from the slits of his irises to the spirals of ebony piercing out of his head.
Your heartbeat took off, galloping wildly as he revealed more and more of himself while you stepped into the bathroom. The thunderous rush of your blood echoed in his own ears; it was a tantalizing sensation.
There was a nervousness to your movements. Your lips were tight, hands slightly shaky. But above all else, your eyes remained tender and worried, and he might have fallen to his knees if he wasn't clutching the door.
“Do you want to close the door?” You asked.
Even now, you wanted to accommodate him. He gave a small nod, but added, “Can you—can you turn around?”
You dipped your head once, then turned your back to him.
(So much trust… When did he earn all of this? From what did he deserve to have your back to him in this context? He could slit your throat in a blink, but you would throw yourself into Hell if he asked.
If demonic culture didn't have a word for selfish or selfless, then what was this?)
Changmin closed the bathroom door and swallowed everything into darkness once again. He could hear your shallow breathing; you were trying to keep it steady, because you knew he could hear it as clear as a bell, but it wouldn't fool him.
He took a step closer—then faltered, as he reached a hand out for your shoulder. He retracted his hand to his side. “You can turn around.”
Eyes watched as you slowly turned your body back around. You were fidgeting around with his ring, twisting the dark metal back and forth, as you lifted your eyes up and down his form.
There was that catch in your breath again. Changmin's shoulders were so tense, he couldn't decide if that was from how high-strung he was or from the energy steadily being spent from his body. He'd probably last about another hour or two before collapsing.
The bathroom was deafeningly quiet, with only your breaths and heartbeat keeping his insecurities company. He wanted to shrink into the collar of his shirt under your gaze, eyes blown wide as the moon. As you soaked him in, his eyes roved over your face—searching, searching, searching.
At last, you tried for a soft smile. “You don't scare me.”
“I don't?” But he couldn't smell fear on you, couldn't make out any clear displays of it. He'd looked for them all. Your heartbeat had calmed, but your expression had never lost that something.
(Was this love?)
You stepped forward once, and then again, until you stood with your toes touching and noses almost brushing. You shook your head and reached up to brush your thumb against his cheekbone.
So warm… so gentle.
His fangs gleamed in the dark when his lips parted. “You've been through so much,” he croaked. “Don't I look like them?” Them, the few creatures who had made you go on the run in the first place? Did creatures like him not haunt your waking world and nightmares? How could you bear to sleep next to him at night?
“If you're trying to convince me you're a monster, then it won't work.” Your fingers trailed down the plane of his face and he reached up to grasp onto you before you could retreat. “Does it hurt?”
At that question, he could help the small, raspy laugh that bubbled out of his chest.
“What?” You asked, the corners of your mouth lifting upward.
“It's no—” he shook his head, his tongue darting out to ship over his lips. His fingers rearranged around yours and held them close to his chest, his thumb finding the familiar characters of his name wrapped around your digit. “—nothing. I just… you still care.”
Confusion flickered over your face, but was swiftly replaced by something softer. “Of course I still care.”
“I could hurt you.”
“You could have hurt me a long time ago.” But you haven't.
Changmin swallowed again, relishing in the warmth that radiated from your palm wrapped in his. “No, it doesn't really hurt,” he whispered. “I just can't sustain this form for very long.”
Your eyes shone. “How long?”
“A couple hours at most,” he said, fangs grazing his lip. “I'm trying to wait out the pixie dust—”
“Pixie dust? Aren't you supposed to be flying?” Your grin was flooring, but he managed not to falter. At his deadpan expression, you patted the back of his hand. “Sorry, don't get your horns in a twist.”
“Yn—”
“It was right there; I had to.”
Even he couldn't suppress the curl of lips for long. He just… Hell, he just loved you. Even if he now had slits for pupils and knives for teeth, nothing could mistake the blatant fondness in his features. His eyes could be pitch black, but he would still find a way to express silently how much he adored you.
You pursed your lips, the mirth leaving your face for a second. “Do you need blood? How long until the pixie dust wears off?”
“I'm not sure, but I'm not taking your blood.” He sent you a pointed look when you opened your mouth to retaliate. “It's like you have a death wish from the amount of times you've offered me blood. I'm not dying, sweetheart.”
“You could be…”
“Technically, I'm undead—”
You rolled your eyes. “Okay, whatever.” Your nose wrinkled up for a second, and then you were wrapping your arms around his waist and pressing your face against his shirt. “You’re still Changmin to me. You're still the guy I'm in love with.”
His arms came around your form and he tucked his face into the crook of your neck, careful to keep his horns from hitting you. He suffocated himself on the feel of your skin, the subtle bump in your pulse just beneath the surface. Despite everything, you still trusted him enough to put his teeth so close to your scars. You didn't run away from him, from the true him.
(Was this love?)
He wanted to hold you here forever. His human. “I love you.”
Your body tensed in surprise, and it nearly chased him away until you squeezed him tighter. He felt your lips against the place his human heart would have been. Changmin always had doubts, but you were so good at calming them. “I know.”
And haven't you always known?
Changmin had known, too, even if he'd searched long and hard for the doubt. All this time of sharing your space, your warmth, your company—he knew.
a/n: pls remember to reblog + comment if u enjoyed!
in which you you’re always butting heads with kim leehan in your brother’s minecraft server, but everyone else thinks that you two just can’t keep your hand off of each other. which could be the case… though you highly doubt that when leehan enjoys blowing up your houses more than considering asking you out.
author’s note. plz don’t make this flop like woonhaks post 😖😖😖 dattebayo!!!
in which you you’re always butting heads with kim leehan in your brother’s minecraft server, but everyone else thinks that you two just can’t keep your hand off of each other. which could be the case… though you highly doubt that when leehan enjoys blowing up your houses more than considering asking you out.
author’s note. and first chapter out!!! sorry it feels like a filler rn but its all just exposition hehe… the real deal will start in ermmm probably chapter 3 IDK I DONT PLAN ANYTHING 💔
