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sunasrintarhoe · 2 years ago

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AHHHHHHHHH

i’m in love??

rocket, you are so sexy for this!!

this made me feel the things :’) i love writers who make you feel what the mc is feeling and you are definitely one of them! i could kiss you mwah 💋

Hyunjin: Age-Restricted (Part Nineteen)

Characters: Hyunjin x female reader (ft other skz members)

Genre/warnings: nanny!reader, ex-porn star/neighbor!hyunjin, generally inexperienced and painfully shy virgin!reader, fluff, humor, alcohol consumption, smut [very vanilla, protection is used wow!!!, hyunjin is just as nervous as reader lmao], if i missed anything lmk!!! (minors dni!!!)

Word count: 10,835

Summary: You think it’s luck when the new family you nanny for is so stupid rich that they rent you a fancy new apartment just so you can live closer to them. You think it’s luck when the guy across the hall is the most beautiful person you’ve ever seen in your entire life and makes an effort to talk to you. But that’s just about where your luck runs out, because Hyunjin is more out of your league than you could ever imagine, and you’re just some hopeless virgin who never had good luck in the first place.

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Your friends were never quiet, so it was odd seeing them sit together on the couch in Changbin and Kit’s living room without screaming at each other. They were speaking quietly to each other as they glanced around the space, but that was really it. You and Hyunjin sat in the plush faux-leather armchair that matched the rest of the furniture, with you half on the arm and half on one half of his lap as you just observed, finding it all to be very amusing.

Jisung was dead silent, staring directly at the couple as they re-entered the living room with drinks in their hands. There were mostly-full cans lined up on their coffee table that your friends were sipping, and you and Hyunjin kept yours in your hands.

“I don’t even think I’ve been here,” Jeongin commented from the loveseat beside Felix. He was also looking around but seemed considerably more normal about it.

It was the first time everyone had gotten together, and you were both nervous and happy about it. You also hadn’t seen Jeongin and Felix hang out with Changbin or Kit outside of them talking to the pair from behind the desk, so it was nice seeing Jeongin in normal clothes for the first time.

Now that you and Hyunjin were official – he wouldn’t stop talking about it, but neither would you – he wanted your friends to hang out together. He thought they’d get along well, but he also wanted to include Felix and Jeongin. The two bellhops had to request the time off, but they managed to make it. But he figured if you two were going to be together, it might be best for your respective friend groups to meet considering how close you were with your four friends and how close he was with his two.

And how close you both were with Felix and Jeongin.

Your four friends were definitely nervous as hell. Chan was trying his best to be normal and be the voice for the other three, but the younger boys were obviously a little anxious about being in Changbin and Kit’s house. They were nervous about meeting the pair for obvious reasons whether they wanted to admit it or not.

Jisung did admit it very openly already. He was nervous about meeting porn stars he was familiar with, and you didn’t see any shame in that because there was no shame in watching porn. To be fair, Jisung was also blatantly excited about meeting Hyunjin properly when he first arrived.

Seungmin wouldn’t tell you he was nervous and kept saying he didn’t care either way, but you could tell he was nervous. Minho didn’t say anything, but the fact he wasn’t acting like his confident and snarky self was telling. The way they were acting was much different than how they acted when they first met Hyunjin, and you and your boyfriend — you couldn’t stop using that word — agreed it must’ve been for one reason only.

Kit.

Both you and Hyunjin found it kind of funny and kept quietly giggling to each other, which would prompt Minho to give you a dirty look and ask what was so funny. You just told him it was nothing.

“Okay,” Kit sighed as she sat on the arm of the loveseat, beside Felix, “let’s just get this out of the way: we’re porn stars, you might’ve seen us, we don’t think it’s weird as long as you don’t make it weird. So, do we want to introduce ourselves? I’m pretty sure you’re Jisung.”

“Kittery,” Changbin whined.

But she was correct in her guess, and Jisung sat up straighter and his eyes went wider when she pointed at him. He was actually kind of star-struck realizing The Kat Valentyne knew his name.

It was obvious the couple noticed the quad’s discomfort, but they had been trying to skim over it up until Kit said something. But you kind of guessed one of them would address it eventually. You just didn’t think she would go so quickly back to normal conversation.

Just from mere guess, you figured Chan, Minho, and Jisung were familiar with both parties of the porn star duo. Seungmin seemed like the type to only really know Kit, at least in your opinion. But either way, you and Hyunjin could agree that it was her presence and energy that was more than likely making them all nervous. Changbin, despite coming across as very cool and confident, still had the ‘just some guy’ aura that made him approachable. He had a softness to him that you couldn’t explain. It was part of the reason you so easily opened up to him at the coffee shop before.

Kit, on the other hand, was very sweet and very much a girls girl, but you would never openly go up to her unless you were maybe drunk in a bathroom at a club. The aura she let off was intimidating. It would’ve made you ask “which one?” as you got down on your knees if she asked you to lick her shoe. You weren’t sure what it was about her, but you understood why your friends felt nervous and shy as they sat on the couch and tried to drown out their nerves with alcohol.

“What?” Kit asked. “You can literally feel the tension. I wanted to get it out of the way. Clear the air, ya know?”

“Wait,” Jeongin spoke up, “is that Jisung, though? I would’ve guessed that was the Minho guy.”

Minho almost choked on his drink before exclaiming, “Excuse you!”

“No, that one is Jisung,” Felix confirmed with a nod.

Kit let out a small happy gasp and clapped for herself, “Ooh, I’m good at this game! Okay, my next guess is that one is the Onlyfans guy!”

Felix’s eyes went wide as his eyebrows shot up, looking at his newest best friend in surprise, “Onlyfans?”

Hyunjin smacked himself in the face with his hand, letting it stay there while he groaned out, “This is already a mess for reasons I didn’t think it would be.”

You just snorted, “You wanted to get our friends together and thought shit like this wouldn’t happen?”

“I’m not judging,” Felix quickly added on. “I just didn’t expect…you to do that.”

“Assuming she’s even right,” Changbin snorted.

“She is,” everyone who was aware of the fact – you, Hyunjin, Jisung, Minho, and Seungmin – all confirmed at the same time.

Chan’s face was beet red as he smiled sheepishly and tried to laugh it off, “Yeah, uh…good guess.”

“Felix is totally right, though. No judgment,” Kit reassured him. Then she gestured between her, her boyfriend, and over to Hyunjin. “I mean, c’mon, who are we to judge?”

“I can judge your quality and angles,” Hyunjin shrugged before sipping his drink.

“We’re kinda used to pro-grade,” Changbin nodded in agreement before sitting back in his seat and mirroring his friend’s actions.

It was actually nice having Hyunjin’s little ‘secret’ – since it was only excluding you, apparently – out in the open. Some of the jokes he made about it were funny, and you liked hearing about what goes on behind the scenes. But he also just seemed so much more relaxed, even as he interacted with his own friends. He could say whatever he wanted and not have to care.

“Okay, to be fair,” Kit spoke up again, looking at Changbin, “if they could get over meeting The Jin–” she said his name with very disappointing jazz hands like she wanted to add the pizazz to his name but didn’t actually mean it, “--then they should easily get over us.”

“Actually,” Jisung slowly raised his hand, “I’m still not over it.”

You caught the way Minho stole a glimpse to the side to look at Hyunjin. He eyed him up and down before looking back across the coffee table at Kit and Changbin. It, for some reason, made you think of the first time your three ex-roommates met Hyunjin. They had known back then, too. His weird comment about Hyunjin’s throat popped into your head.

Suddenly, you both wanted to know what he said even more, but also didn’t want to know at all.

Even now, pieces were just starting to fit into place, no matter how small.

“Well,” Kit put on a warm smile and took a moment to make eye contact with everyone in the room as she spoke – even if they may have averted their eyes only a few seconds after, “I know we’re all pretty open about our experiences, so if you have any questions, feel free to ask. It won’t be weird.”

“Yeah, I actually have one,” Minho was the one to speak up. But instead of staying facing Kit and Changbin, his head whipped around to you, eyes narrowed. “How the fuck are you over it? You’re literally dating him!”

You looked down at Hyunjin, who looked up at you. One hand was resting comfortably on your waist with the other holding his drink. He seemed just as curious as Minho was, looking up at you and awaiting your answer.

Then you looked back at Minho and replied in a tone that implied you thought that made him less cool than his friends, “Because he’s only an ex-porn star.”

As his friends laughed and even yours chuckled, you didn’t notice the look of disgust he gave you before almost pushing you off of the chair.

If you closed your eyes, not only did the room spin a little bit, but you would’ve sworn you were back at Chan’s apartment. Kit was loudly playing Super Smash Bros with Chan, Felix, Seungmin, and Jeongin; Changbin and Minho were chatting together as they came back into the room with a new bag of chips; Jisung had been sitting on the loveseat with Hyunjin for at least the last 15 minutes asking him all sorts of questions; and music was playing with the lights dimmed in the background. And you felt like you took a hit of something with how absolutely giddy you were sitting on the couch in the middle of it all. Everyone was getting along. Everyone liked each other. You and Hyunjin were together. All was right in the universe.

God, you and Hyunjin were together. In your state that was teetering the line of heavily tipsy and falling into actually drunk, you were getting so smiley and giggly just thinking about it. You watched him talk with Jisung, his full attention on him despite all the chaos going on. He laughed at something your friend had said before taking another drink, his eyes crescent moons showing he was genuinely laughing. Even though he was just in some t-shirt and baggy Adidas track pants, he still somehow looked like a God.

“I don’t know if I’ve ever seen anyone look so smitten,” Changbin’s chuckle broke your eyes away from your boyfriend as the couch dipped beside you.

“I’ve been watching her stare for the last two minutes,” Felix chuckled from his other side, his controller discarded on the coffee table.

“You were just playing!” your eyebrows furrowed.

“I died a little bit ago,” he told you, still laughing. “You were staring for quite a while. I thought it was kinda cute, though. I was waiting to see how long it took Hyun to notice you.”

“Yeah, well…he’s just so…” you sighed and put your silly little lovesick smile back on. “He’s great.”

“Great, yeah,” Changbin nodded, laughing at how poorly you were articulating your thoughts but still finding it kind of adorable that you couldn’t find words for Hyunjin. “I’m glad you two worked things out. You’re good for each other. And I mean, you probably already know how in love with you he is, so.”

“He told me he is, but he won’t say the ‘L’ word in front of me because he’s afraid of making me uncomfortable,” you admitted like you were telling them the weather.

The pair seemed more than confused. Bewildered, more like it.

Felix leaned in toward Changbin to talk a little quieter to ask, “Are you… Do you…not– I mean–”

“Have you not told him you love him?” Changbin asked for him since the younger boy clearly couldn’t find a way to phrase it that didn’t sound, well, kinda bad.

You sighed deeply and rolled your eyes like the whole thing was annoying. Which it kind of was, at least your part of it. It sounded so cheesy and lame.

“So…I’ve never been in love before,” you admitted, also keeping your voice low so it was masked by the sounds of Kit and Seungmin swearing at each other, and the music, “so I don’t know, like…how to tell when it happens.”

“You told him that, though?” Changbin guessed.

You nodded with a hum, “We’re really working on communication.”

“Thank God,” Chan sighed as he suddenly turned toward the three of you. He was sitting on your left and was apparently out of the game from the way he put the controller down on the coffee table in exchange for his drink. “I mean, no offense. Why’re we talking about that, though?”

“_____ doesn’t know what being in love feels like,” Felix replied with a warm smile.

“Ooh!” Chan gasped like he was a girl in an early 2000’s movie at a sleepover, and he angled his body toward the three of you.

“Okay,” Changbin shifted a little on the couch, much like Chan had, “then let’s help you through this. How do you feel when you’re around Hyunjin?”

“Happy,” was your immediate response. “I feel…butterflies still. But I feel…mostly comfortable. I still feel nervous about some things, but I know I’m always safe with him.”

“That’s very important,” Chan nodded before taking a drink.

“To be fair, I’ve never felt more comfortable with anyone else,” you added. “So that’s also something. He’s good at making me feel more comfortable.”

“How do you feel when you’re not with Hyunjin?” Changbin wondered.

You looked back at him and plainly replied, “I wait until he calls me so I can see him again.”

The three started laughing, and Felix even squealed, “Ah, so cute!”

“Look, I dunno how to describe my feelings, okay?” you stated. “I just look at him and I think about him a lot, and I feel like I wanna start squealing and giggling, and my heart feels like it’ll literally explode from how much I like him. When I’m not around him, I want to be around him. I want to make him happy and make him feel loved and important like he does for me.”

“What about the porn star stuff?” Changbin asked. “That never bothered you?”

You paused for a second to think, eyes looking upward as you chewed on the inside of your cheek. You knew the fact Hyunjin slept with a lot of other people before you – and very publicly, at that – didn’t bother you, but there were aspects about it that made you feel insecure, but that wasn’t necessarily because of him. That was your own thing you needed to work on.

“lt doesn’t necessarily bother me, I just– …Something I’ve thought about before is, like, comparing myself to the people he’s slept with,” you admitted truthfully. “But I think that’s more of a me problem. I’m just anxious and insecure. I need to work on that and it’s nothing to do with him.”

“What if it affects your next job?” Changbin continued to press.

You shrugged, “I’ll find another. There’s gotta be one out there that doesn’t care.”

“What if it means you can’t be a nanny again?”

“I could work at a daycare. When would Hyunjin ever show up there? Or I could just work in another field.”

“But you love nannying,” Chan stated, seeming sad at the fact you’d give up working with children.

You turned your head and opened your mouth, but nothing came out. You didn’t have a rebuttal. You’d just give it up if you had to. If you wanted to be with Hyunjin, you’d give it up.

“But she loves Hyunjin more,” Changbin said for you with a smirk in his tone.

And when you turned your head, there was the smirk you suspected. He was sitting back in his seat now, bringing his can to his lips, “Really sounds like love to me, honestly.”

“Your feelings for Hyunjin have only gotten stronger over time from what I can tell,” Felix said. “Love gets stronger over time. Infatuation starts out strong and then fades away.”

“You thought you were just infatuated with him?” Chan snorted. “_____, you were basically incapacitated when he ended things. I think even a metal bat could tell you have strong feelings for him.”

“But I’m basically obsessed with him,” you stated in confusion. “Is that not infatuation?”

“Yeah,” Changbin scoffed, “and he’s obsessed with you, too. It’s still love.”

You looked back at Hyunjin again, processing this. All these feelings you felt toward him that made you feel like some giddy schoolgirl, the feeling like you could never get enough of him, the intense urge to always reassure him whenever he thought he wasn’t good enough for you because of his past line of work. All of it was love the whole time, and you were so afraid of it not being that.

Even with three people telling you it was love, you were still afraid to admit it and you didn’t know why. You were afraid of being wrong. But why? Did you think you’d wake up next to him in a week and decide you didn’t want to be with him anymore? You knew that wouldn’t happen. You knew you wanted to only wake up next to him and nobody else.

“FUCK– NO!”

The sudden yell had you looking at the screen, already knowing it was caused by the game – it happened back at the apartment far too often. You saw Zelda’s final smash, and Kirby was shot off of the map in a strip of bright light, and the game was over. Zelda’s victory screen played, but you couldn’t remember for the life of you who Zelda even was, but you sure as hell knew it wasn’t Seungmin from the way he whined and dropped his head back.

The screen changed to show all the players and their ranks. Zelda in first was Player 5, who was named CUNT. Right, that was Kit. Second was Player 2, who you knew was Seungmin. The pre-written name he’d chosen from Kit and Changbin’s list was ironically enough: kit. In third was whoever was named 2dad and played Dr. Mario. And then you kind of stopped caring because you didn’t know who was who.

“How did you get out before them?” Hyunjin called over to Felix, addressing him with a head nod.

Hyunjin had told you before that Felix is some insane gamer – well, at some games. He was still bronze in LoL and wasn’t allowed to live it down because it had been several years since he picked the game up.

“Kit targeted me again!” he laughed, pointing at the current reigning champ.

All she had to say about her win was, “Get fucked, idiots.”

If you wanted to know what you looked like when you looked at Hyunjin, it was Minho at that moment. He looked at Kit as she went back to the character selection screen looking like the human personification of heart eyes. Then he turned around toward the rest of you on the couch.

“I like her,” he nodded.

Changbin sighed, his eyes closing as he started to chuckle to himself.

“Another poor man lost to her charm,” he muttered before he downed the rest of his drink. As he crushed the can, he said, “Can’t blame him, though.”

“Alright, losers,” Kit stood with her own empty can, “I need another drink.”

As she walked toward the kitchen, you decided to get up and follow her. You missed Kit. You wanted to talk to Kit. You were surrounded by a bunch of men other than Kit. You needed to be around Kit for a minute.

“Hey!” she noticed your presence as she was bending over into the fridge. “Need another?”

“Yeah, but I also just wanted to talk. It’s been a minute,” you replied.

“Dude, I know! I missed you!” she grinned as she turned around, two drinks in her hand, and one she held out to you. “You have no idea how badly I wanted to hum Hyunjin out the window when he first told us about ending shit. He’s so emotional sometimes and only thinks with emotion rather than being rational.”

All you could do was smile and shrug. You knew he was emotional and that it had its downsides, but overall, you knew his strong sense of emotion was what made him, him. It fueled his inspiration in art, and was probably a big reason why his art was so great. It made you feel loved because he felt so strongly and just had to show it, even if sometimes it was a little too cheesy. Hyunjin was emotional, but it wasn’t entirely a bad thing.

Do I love Hyunjin? you asked yourself once again, like you had been doing ever since Hyunjin confessed.

“How’ve you been?” she continued, popping the can open. “What’s new?”

“Nothing, really. Started updating my resume the other day, and that’s about it,” you shrugged, opening your own drink. “What about you and Changbin?”

“Huh?” the man in question asked as he entered the kitchen as well, apparently also looking for a new drink since he dropped his can in the bag the pair used for recycling.

“You’re not entertaining?” she asked him, seeming exaggeratedly appalled by that.

“Well I was entertaining Minho’s little crush on you, so I was bragging about my amazing girlfriend to everyone,” he told her with a too-cute smile. “But now I’m not doing anything. I need another drink.”

Seungmin and Jeongin then entered the kitchen together, Jeongin talking about something while Seungmin nodded and replied with a lot of ‘yeahs’. The younger of the pair downed the rest of his drink before both of them discarded their empty cans.

“Nice game, Innie and Minnie,” Kit was grinning and giggling at her own nicknames for the pair. “Wanna make the next one more interesting?”

For once, Jeongin didn’t seem phased by Kit. But Seungmin was beet fucking red. It almost made you start giggling. You never saw Seungmin flustered except on a couple rare occasions when you first started getting comfortable with him. But that was years ago.

“Oh yeah?” Jeongin asked with an interested smirk. “How so?”

“Losers do shots.”

“Oh, so it’s that kind of party now?” Hyunjin asked as he sauntered in along with the remaining people in the living room.

Suddenly, said party had moved into the kitchen.

“Shots?” you immediately asked, perking up at the idea.

“God, don’t say shots around this one,” Chan groaned, nodding his head toward you as he went to grab a new drink from the fridge. “Once you get her started, she doesn’t know how to stop.”

You didn’t have a rebuttal. He was right. You liked to party with your friends and you had a hard time telling them no when they offered even more alcohol.

This, however, was new information to Hyunjin. His eyes went from Chan to you with a spark in them. Not that he was going to use this against you or anything. He would absolutely never. But he was a little interested in seeing what you were like properly drunk. Just out of pure curiosity. Would you become bolder, losing all inhibitions? Would your confidence boost to a place it should be in his opinion?

Though, if he got to decide your confidence levels, he’d turn you into a pompous asshole, probably.

Minho seemed to be the one to notice. Despite being under the influence – both of alcohol and Kit’s charms – he was still keeping sharp eyes on your boyfriend.

“Don’t get any ideas, pretty boy,” he warned sharply, pointing a finger across the room at him. Hyunjin’s hands immediately went up by his head in surrender. “The last time you had an idea, it sent my baby into a spiral, and if you do anything to hurt her again, you will be able to suck your own dick for your next adult film. That’s a threat and a promise.”

Kit let out an amused scoff, a few pairs of eyes going to her instead. Not Minho’s, though. His stayed on Hyunjin.

“I like him,” she stated, jutting her thumb toward Minho.

Then it was Minho’s turn to turn beet red, though he tried to pretend he didn’t since he was trying to be intimidating.

“I feel like that kind of video would actually do surprisingly well…” Jisung mused quietly, but mostly everyone heard it.

“Especially coming from him,” Changbin scoffed in agreement, finding the fact amusing. “Jin could shit in his hand on video and it would sell.”

Suddenly, Kit turned back to you, “Have you still not seen Jinnie in action? You must’ve when you found out, right?”

Every pair of eyes were on you now, invested in the answer. Now that the conversation had switched back to porn, obviously all of your friends were more inclined to listen. This shit was interesting to them since it involved literal porn stars.

That also meant Hyunjin’s eyes were on you. If anyone was anticipating the answer, it was him.

“I mean, Jisung showed me a video because I asked, but I only saw Hyunjin standing in the room,” you shrugged. “I was a little busy goin’ through it, so. Didn’t really want to watch him rail somebody. Or get railed. I don’t really know what the plot was, actually.”

“You watched porn with Jisung?” Minho asked, looking absolutely disgusted. You were sure you haven't seen him look more disgusted with you in your life.

“No, I watched Hyunjin stand in a room with Jisung,” you corrected.

“Why’d you ask if you didn’t want to see that?” Kit wondered, genuinely curious.

You couldn’t tell if it was a good or bad thing that everyone had been drinking because now all of you were being so much more open with each other for no reason.

“It was when I found out he used to do porn and I guess I needed to see it with my own eyes. I couldn’t believe that he was a porn star for whatever reason. Like, I guess I couldn’t believe I…sorta pulled a porn star.”

“Sorta?” Changbin rolled his eyes. “You had him fully obsessed with you since the day he met you.”

“Not the day we met,” Hyunjin scoffed, narrowing his eyes at his friend.

“What was that thing about ‘having a good feeling’ and ‘knowing vibes’ or whatever?” the older man reminded him before rolling his eyes again. “Shut the hell up, Hyun.”

The night carried on. The losers of the next round did shots, and you decided to play Smash that round because you knew you’d lose.

Chan was right. You liked shots.

Then Jisung asked if you’d do a shot with him so he wasn’t alone.

Then Kit wanted to teach you to properly do a tequila shot which included licking salt up her torso and taking a lime from her mouth. You might not have been down to do that in front of people sober, but drunk you was totally down and Hyunjin had to be the one to put his foot down. So instead you did a shot but she made you loop your arms and take them together.

“Party’s not over ‘til _____ overdoes it,” Minho said his usual slogan for when you guys used to drink on Friday nights.

That meant it was time to go home.

Chan and Hyunjin were DD’s that night and started having water about halfway through the night. So Hyunjin was well enough to drive the two of you back to The Brooke after everybody else left.

Hyunjin had also started asking you to drink more water, along with Chan and Changbin. While they did want to have a good time and get a good drunk-ness going, they weren’t looking for people to get blackout. They wanted to make sure you’d be okay later when you got home, as well as hangover-free in the morning.

But still, because of your state, Hyunjin asked if you wanted to sleep over so he could look after you just in case.

He lent you a baggy t-shirt of his to sleep in, and he changed into a t-shirt and some shorts before you both got into bed. You were in your underwear and just one of his shirts, and the alcohol in your system was making you feel much bolder and more confident. Any anxieties you may have still had left about intimacy with Hyunjin had gone out the window, and you had managed to initiate a makeout session that Hyunjin was perfectly fine with.

Up until you kept going further.

Hyunjin had no qualms with letting his hands explore your body. That wasn’t super new. He was fine with you starting to rut against his thigh while your tongues moved together. But when his hands gripped your bare waist and you took that as an invitation to try and take your own shirt off, he knew something was up. He simply pushed your hands back down instead of saying anything. He was afraid of hurting your feelings if he verbally denied you.

But you mumbled against his lips, “I think I’m finally ready.”

He had to laugh softly at that, breaking away from your lips, “Babydoll, you’re drunk. You can’t make that decision.”

You pulled away further to look at him, “It’s only mild now. And besides, it helps with confidence. So it’s better this way.”

Hyunjin looked deep into your eyes, looking at you very seriously as he held both of your hands to his chest, “_____, I need you to understand how much I want you and how insanely in love with you I am. Okay? But I cannot let you make these kinds of decisions under any sort of influence. We’re waiting until you’re sober and ready.”

“I want to lose it to you sober, too!” you pouted. “I’m just not as confident to do it then. Then, I’ll panic. But I’m brave now!”

His heart was beating a million miles a minute in his chest hearing that. You wanted to lose your virginity to him. This was something you had thought about and considered. You wanted him to take it. You trusted him to take it.

“I don’t need you to be brave, I just need you to be comfortable,” he chuckled, trying to ignore his own feelings for a moment just to make sure he let you down as gently as he could. The last thing he wanted was for you to feel unwanted or to just straight-up cry. “If you start panicking, we’ll work it out like we always do. So please wait to do that. For me?”

You let out a sigh, but he could tell it meant you were conceding. He smiled warmly at you and pressed a kiss to your nose.

“Are you sleepy?” he asked.

“Not yet,” you told him.

“Here.”

He shifted the two of you until you were laying with your head on his chest and one of your legs was swung over his hip. He laid on his back, staring at the two of you through the mirror above. The warm glow of the lamp made it easy to see and made everything seem so cozy.

In the silence, he went through things that happened at Kit and Changbin’s. Specifically, the question Kit had asked popped into his head.

“Have you still not seen Jinnie in action? You must’ve when you found out, right?”

You had seen part of it, but not the whole thing. Part of him wondered if now that you two were alright, if you ever got curious. Had you just lied at the party because you were embarrassed? Had you finished the video or even looked up a new one? Had you actually seen him before?

“_____?”

“Hmm?”

“Did you really only see that one part of that video?” he wondered, looking down at you.

“What?” you looked up at him in confusion.

He chuckled, “My film Jisung showed you. Did you ever go home and finish it by yourself?”

“No,” you replied truthfully.

“Have you…ever wanted to watch me?”

“I’ve gotten curious, yeah,” you admitted, going back to your original position. Even a little drunk, you felt flustered admitting this to him and didn’t want to look at him while you spoke. “Especially now that we’re okay again and you said you love me and everything. I don’t know, I’ve been more…curious, I guess. But I didn’t want to look you up unless I knew it was okay with you. It felt like some kind of invasion of privacy.”

Hyunjin was actually touched you didn’t look him up without asking first. And honestly, he wasn’t sure if he wanted you to – at least not yet.

“I don’t mind if you watch my videos,” he said slowly, “but maybe only after we’ve actually had sex first.”

He wasn’t sure why he felt slimy saying that, but he did. He even made a face even though you weren’t paying attention.

“Can I ask why? Not that I’m upset,” you quickly added. “Just wanna understand your thoughts.”

He took a deep breath before letting it out all at once, “I just… I guess I’m scared you’ll have these expectations of me. I don’t want to feel like you’re expecting porn for your first time. I know it’s about what you want, but if I am the one who takes your virginity, I want it to be sweet and special. Not whatever video of mine you watch.

“And I want you to see me for yourself first,” he smirked down at you before kissing the top of your head. “Don’t spoil the surprise, dummy.”

“I have literally had your dick down my throat already,” you reminded him, looking back up with him with your own teasing smile. “Who’s forgetting things now, huh?”

“I’ll take that reminder in the morning,” he smirked back before pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. “Go to sleep.”

You got comfortable on his chest again, but you still weren’t tired. Your mind was also wandering. You thought about him telling you that he did want you, and obviously that turned you on even more so you were currently just trying to ignore the throbbing between your legs. But, of course, your mind wandered. You thought of the short snippet of Hyunjin you had seen in the video. How he pressed the girl against a wall and said something seductive in her ear. You hadn’t necessarily thought about watching one of his videos until that night when you were asked, but now you decided you really wanted to.

“I’ll hold you to that,” he had said lowly in his counterpart’s ear, looking like he could devour her.

“Hyunjin?” you spoke up suddenly, your voice sounding somehow sadder and quieter than he expected. Like you were a child not wanting to disturb their parent.

“What’s up, baby?” he asked, gently stroking up and down the skin of your arm with his fingertips.

“Remember when we met and we said we would be friends and reach out and stuff?”

“Yeah?”

“You told me you’d hold me to it.”

“Where’s this going?” he asked softly.

“That was the line you said in the part I watched,” you explained in a quiet voice. You were worried this was going to open up another can of worms, but you needed to know why he said one of his own lines from a porno to you.

Hyunjin let out a soft sigh like he didn’t want to tell you something. And it wasn’t necessarily anything bad, but he was worried the way it sounded would’ve made things worse considering your original fear was that he was using you. He had just hoped this conversation wouldn’t have been brought up until maybe you were married or something.

“I kind of just…assumed people would recognize me, so I thought maybe you would, too, when I met you,” he explained, looking up at the ceiling. He was currently watching the way your fingers played with the material of his t-shirt. “When I first saw you, I just thought you were cute and I was kinda hoping to maybe…hook up with you. Which I don’t usually have one-night stands, but it had been a while and I mean, my neighbor was this cute girl around my age so what else was I supposed to do? I dug down deep for that porn star confidence and I guess that line was burned in my brain somewhere.”

He chuckled, but was also pausing to gauge your reaction. You let out a soft hum of a laugh, and that was good enough for him.

“But,” he continued, “you didn’t end up taking the hint to come knocking on my door later, so nothing came of that. You didn’t even really go out of your way to talk to me, actually,” he scoffed, finding your shyness amusing. “So I tried going out of my way to talk to you, and that’s when the crush started. I just thought everything about you was cute. And then I found out that you weren’t as experienced, and all I wanted after that was whatever you were comfortable giving me.”

It was silent for a moment, and Hyunjin was worried he’d upset you.

“Baby?”

“You were trying to use your porn star rizz on me?” you finally asked.

He laughed, but it was to cover up his sigh of relief that you weren’t upset. He was scared you’d go back to thinking he was using you, and while his intention at first was just to sleep with you, that all quickly changed.

“It worked because here we are,” he pointed out, holding you a little tighter.

“Not well enough because you still never got laid,” you snorted back. But then you lifted his head and looked at him with a ‘what if?’ face.

He rolled his eyes and pushed your head back to his chest, “Goodnight, _____.”

“I’m serious, though!” you insisted but kept your cheek against his chest. “I want you to take it. I just need to be less judgy of myself.”

“You shouldn’t be judgy. I think you’re absolutely beautiful and I lo– …I really like every part of you.”

“You already dropped the ‘L’ word once tonight.”

“Yeah, to get a point across so you wouldn’t think I was denying you. I don’t want to make you feel obligated since I know we’re not really on the same page there yet.”

God, that was gonna send you down that rabbit hole again. You already spent so much time wondering if you were feeling love or not. You over thought it constantly, and you were still scared you were wrong even after the reassurance from your friends. You wanted to talk to Hyunjin about it, but you were worried that he wouldn’t take you seriously if he knew you were still buzzed. So you just thought about it silently.

But you did eventually get tired, only focusing on Hyunjin’s fingertips on your skin. Your eyelids got heavier and your breathing got slower.

“_____?”

He hadn’t noticed you slowly falling asleep in his arms. He was too wrapped up in his own thoughts, wondering where you stood with him. You hadn’t really talked about the love thing since he first confessed, so he wanted to know where you stood now. He wanted to know if there was maybe anything that needed to be clarified or talked through. He knew you were essentially lost with all of that.

The soft hum you replied with told him you were barely awake, too sleepy to even form words.

So he just smiled to himself and pulled you in a little closer, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head, “I love you.”

You hummed again.

Hyunjin had learned you were a relatively light sleeper. You had told him you wake up whenever he moves, but you’re usually able to just go right back to sleep. You wake up if he doesn’t close the door quietly enough when going to the bathroom. You wake up over most things, but usually just go back to sleep within the next 60 seconds. But he figured because you were trying to sleep off the alcohol that you wouldn’t wake up when he left to go to the kitchen.

He barely slept. What sleep he did get was in a half-asleep state that didn’t feel refreshing at all. The clock said it was almost 3am so he’d only been laying in bed for a few hours. His mind had been racing ever since you fell asleep and he was left alone with his own thoughts. He thought over everything you two had talked about before you fell asleep, and that ultimately sent him spiraling.

He got some water, hoping it would calm him down. He just needed to sleep it off. He was only this anxious because it was nighttime and his emotions were higher. If he woke up in the morning and still felt this way, he could talk to you about it. You’d understand, anyway. He just had to get through the night. It was nothing to worry about right now, anyway. It wasn’t like anything was going to happen tonight. You were dead asleep.

He finished his glass and walked back upstairs to his bedroom. But upon opening the door, the lamp was back on and you were sitting up on your phone.

“Did I wake you up?” he asked quietly. “Do you feel okay?”

You nodded, “I’m good. Not nauseous. A little hanxiety but that’s it.”

He chuckled as he walked over to his side and got back in, “Why’re you on your phone?”

“You left the bedroom so I wanted to make sure you were okay when you got back,” you told him, locking your phone and looking back at him. “Where’d you go?”

“I…couldn’t really sleep,” he admitted, looking down at the duvet. “I’ve just been thinking a lot.”

“Do you wanna talk about it?” you offered, resting your phone back to charge on the nightstand before giving your full attention back to your boyfriend.

Hyunjin ran his fingers through his hair, letting out a deep sigh, “Honestly, I’m… I’m really nervous about taking your virginity.”

That genuinely surprised you, eyebrows raising, but otherwise, you tried to keep your expression neutral. Hyunjin was nervous about having sex with you? The tables really turned in a way you didn’t expect.

“I know it sounds silly since I used to have sex all the time,” he chuckled before you could figure out how to reply, “but I’ve just…never taken someone’s virginity before. And I know we both just kind of…assumed it would be me, but hearing you say before that it would be me and that you wanted it to be me, I just– I don’t know, it really hit me then. And, like, I know virginity isn’t even real and it’s just a social construct and whatever, but it’s a big deal to you and it’s a big deal to me. I know you said the thing about me making it perfect was just a joke but I really do want it to be perfect.”

He turned to look into your eyes, and you could see the fear and uncertainty of himself in them, “And I’m scared it won’t be everything you want it to be. I’m scared I’ll somehow ruin the trust you have in me.”

You scooted closer to him and held his face between your hands. You held eye contact with him so he knew you were absolutely serious.

“If it’s with you, I know it’ll be perfect,” you told him. “It sounds so cheesy and lame that I didn’t even wanna say it, but it’s true and you need to hear it. I know I can trust you. You always make me feel safe. You stop when I need you to. You guide me but you don’t push me. You can’t mess up anything. Yes, I’m nervous to lose it, but not because I think it’ll be bad. It’s just…being perceived. It’s all me stuff that I’m worried about. Absolutely nothing to do with you.”

“Well I’m worried about me…” he mumbled with a pout.

“Hyunjin,” you said his name a little intensely, trying to get him to understand how serious you were. “I wouldn’t have told you I trusted you to take my virginity if I didn’t mean it. I trust you. If I didn’t trust you that much, I wouldn’t have done any of the other things with you.”

He let out a deep sigh, his head falling back against the headboard and slipping from your hands, “I don’t know… I can’t shake the anxiety of it. I think this is the closest I’ll get to feeling how you feel.”

You both shared a soft laugh at that, and you got on your knees to straddle his legs so he had to look at you. You studied his face as his hands immediately rested on your hips, your hands gently rubbing over his shoulders. You weren’t sure you’d seen him this stressed before. You could see it all over his face and deep in his eyes. This was getting to him and it was kind of endearing how much he cared. Still, you didn’t want him to be this worried about it.

“Jinnie, I’m absolutely 1000% sure everything would be perfect just because it’s with you,” you promised.

“Because I’m a porn star?” he joked, gently rolling his eyes. “I just know what I’m doing?”

“Because I love you.”

His head snapped up and his fingers gripped your waist tighter.

You didn’t mean to say that. You just thought it and it came out before you could overthink it. You just…felt it. It felt right to say. You knew losing your virginity to Hyunjin would be everything you could ever want simply because it was him you were losing it to, because you loved him.

“You love me?” he asked, his eyes wide as a smile started to creep on his face.

Your cheeks felt warm as your fingers started to play with the ends of his hair, “I’ve been wanting to say something for a while but I was overthinking it because this is the first time I’ve experienced being in love and I don’t know how it’s supposed to feel so I’ve just been second guess–”

“You’re spiraling,” he chuckled, bringing a hand up to your cheek and gently rubbing your skin with his thumb.

You inhaled deeply before letting it out in a sigh, “It’s just scary, I guess. But I know I mean it.”

“Love can be scary, but so are a lot of things we’ve done together,” he reminded you. He gently guided your face down to his, moving closer and closer. “Can you say it again?”

You giggled softly and told him, “I love you.”

“I love you,” he replied in a whisper before his lips were on yours.

Immediately, the kiss was passionate. Still soft and slow, but his tongue almost instantly slipped past your lips to deepen the kiss. His hands moved to your back to pull you as close as he possibly could, making you shift on his lap. He let out a soft groan at your movements against him, and the way it instantly sent butterflies in a frenzy in your lower stomach had you gripping his shoulders harder.

What if this was it? All this talk about losing your virginity to Hyunjin definitely had you thinking that maybe this was all leading up to something, and the more you talked about it, the more you wanted it to happen. It made you feel nervous and excited all at once. Like you wanted to throw up and also start giggling. It actually…kind of turned you on.

It wasn’t very long before you could feel Hyunjin’s semi starting to poke at your clothed core. You couldn’t resist ever so slowly making the smallest movements to rut against him. But he could still tell, letting out soft moans into your mouth. One hand held your hip while they ground down a little harder with every pass, and the other was cupping your jaw as your tongues and lips continued to move together.

Gently, he began moving you. He was rolling so he was straddling you, your lips never disconnecting. He slid the two of you down until you were laying down on your back with Hyunjin above you. He continued to slowly roll his hips into you, no doubt leaving a big wet patch on your panties. Your knees locked around his waist as your hands went to tangle in his hair.

“Jinnie,” you murmured into the kiss.

“Hm?” he hummed as his lips started to trail down your jaw and to your neck.

“W-want you…” you admitted, though it made your cheeks heat up and your voice was shaking even though you meant it. “Can we…?”

“What do you need from me, baby?” he asked like he was asking if you needed a glass of water. His lips left big, wet kisses across your neck in between words. “Do you want my fingers? Or my tongue?”

“No, Hyunjin,” you guided his face back up to yours and looked up into his eyes. “I want you…”

Hyunjin swallowed thickly. For a split second, he looked like he could’ve pounced. But it went away as quickly as it flashed across his face, so you wondered if you imagined it.

His expression was soft, almost like he felt bad for you.

“Not tonight, love,” he told you in a soft voice. “You were really drunk earlier and you might–”

“I’m completely sober,” you told him, refusing to break eye contact even though you were feeling beyond flustered having to admit any of this to him. “I’m making this decision with a sound mind. I want to do this with you. Right now.”

“Now?” he repeated. “You don’t want to have flower petals and candles and–”

“No. No theatrics. This is what I want. Just us in your bedroom at 3am. I want this. Right now.”

He seemed to be thinking it over. You wondered if he wanted to pull out all the stops. If maybe this had burst his bubble of how to make everything perfect. If maybe he was going to say no because his anxiety over perfection would get the best of him.

To him, all the theatrics were part of the perfection. Didn’t everyone want that big romantic gesture? The red rose petals across the bed? The candles? The lingerie? The music? Why would you just want him in a t-shirt and shorts on a random morning at 3am? What about this was romantic or perfect?

“Please?” you asked softly, trying to pull an answer from him. “I don’t want you to agree if you’re really not comfortable, but I promise I’m sober and I want this with you. I don’t want anything more than just you.”

He bit his lip, looking into your eyes and searching for any amount of doubt or uncertainty. He refused to go forward with this if you were even the tiniest bit unsure, but all he found was you looking back up at him with wide eyes that were so sure that you meant everything you said. He saw how much you trusted him and how much you loved him all in your eyes.

Truthfully, who was he to tell you what scenario for losing your virginity was perfect?

“Please tell me to stop if you want to stop,” he requested. “Even if you’re the tiniest bit anxious, we’ll stop or pause or whatever you need to do. Okay? You need to tell me.”

You nodded, a small smile tugging on your lips, “I will.”

Already, your heart was hammering in your chest knowing that this was it. But you wouldn’t tell Hyunjin that. He’d assume this anxiety was bad and he wouldn’t do it. But this, for once, was good anxiety. It was a healthy anxiety, you thought. Because of course any new thing would make you anxious, but you were with Hyunjin. You were absolutely positive you were in safe hands.

His lips reconnected with yours, and slowly, your hands began roaming each other's bodies. Hyunjin was making sure to take the lead, and he was going to lead slowly. He was going to make sure the entire time that you were comfortable, taking time to lead up to every next step so you could be properly adjusted to everything and nothing could take you off guard or make you too nervous.

His shirt was the first thing to come off, your hands immediately running over his warm skin. Then his shorts were shoved off. But he waited until almost last to even think about beginning to run his hands up underneath your shirt. He already knew how you felt about yourself so he was going extra slow with undressing you, waiting for you to either feel comfortable enough to let him, or waiting for a sign to stop.

You felt that familiar bad anxiety starting to creep up as his palms slowly moved up your stomach, pushing the shirt you’d borrowed up with them, “H-Hyunjin…”

“You want it on?” he asked, his hands immediately freezing in their place, just under your breasts. His face was just far enough away that he could look into your eyes. “I can leave it. Are you still okay?”

You nodded in small movements, “Y-you can take it off, just…don’t look at me too blatantly, okay?” you let out an airy, nervous laugh, but Hyunjin fully chuckled at your wording. “Don’t be obvious.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be sneaky about gawking at my beautiful girlfriend,” he promised through soft laughter as he kissed your lips again.

Hyunjin was the king of distractions until you were comfortable, though. You had already learned that, but you had forgotten until now. He kissed and sucked at your neck and played with your nipples under your shirt to get you lost in all the good feelings. You were so caught up in the stimulation and your soft moans that you didn’t even realize he’d pushed your shirt up until he was breaking away from you to lift it up and off your body. But, as promised, he immediately went back to kissing you instead of sitting up to finally admire your body underneath your clothes.

But he was sneaky, and fuck, did he think you were beautiful. He’d never seen you without some sort of top on, and now he wondered how he could keep you from ever wearing a top again. He understood why people had insecurities, but he almost became that person who scoffed and wondered how you could be insecure in the first place. You were so gorgeous and he wanted to physically fight whoever had made you think in your life that you weren’t.

“I didn’t think I could get more obsessed with you,” he chuckled as he kissed down between your breasts until he reached the center of your torso while hands kneaded the soft skin of your hips. “I don’t know how I’m gonna keep my hands off of you from now on.”

“You’re so annoying,” you giggled, looking up at him.

“Yeah, well, you’re the one who’s in love with me, so.”

Suddenly, you felt pressure on your clothed clit. Hyunjin was rolling small circles with two fingers and kissed you just in time to swallow your quiet moans. He could feel how wet you already were through your underwear, but he was going to make absolutely sure you were prepped enough before he even got your underwear off. He didn’t care how painfully uncomfortable he was getting in his own underwear.

He slid his hand underneath the material and tried sliding in two fingers, finding they fit pretty easily. He thrusted them slowly while skillfully rubbing your clit with his thumb. He may have been subtly rutting against your leg to get some relief of his own, but what else was he supposed to do when you sounded so beautiful and every small scrunch of pleasure on your face made his dick twitch?

Finally, he guided you to lift your hips for him to take your underwear off, followed by his own. He straddled you, continuing to softly but passionately kiss you while he expertly reached into the drawer of his nightstand to grab a condom. You could hear him rummaging around and you knew what was coming and it sent your heart leaping up into your throat. Was it going to hurt like you were told in sex ed? What if you didn’t like the feeling? What if you were just one of those people who didn’t like penetration like you’d seen online?

But you still never felt compelled to tell Hyunjin to stop. You told yourself you’d both figure it out if it came to that, because you knew that was what would happen. And everything would be okay.

Condom on, Hyunjin pulled away to tell you, “I’m gonna go slow.”

You just nodded in reply, keeping your eyes closed to prepare for whatever feeling may come next.

His hand cupped your cheek, coaxing you to open your eyes. When you did, he looked concerned, “Are you still okay?”

You nodded again, but this time vocalized quietly, “I’m okay.”

“Just hold onto me,” he told you gently, rubbing your cheek with the pad of his thumb. “It shouldn’t hurt, but just tell me what you need, okay?”

“Okay.”

He dropped his head back down to your neck, pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses there just in case you needed the distraction as he slowly pushed into you. For a moment, his hips stuttered and you heard him take in a sharp breath, muttering a soft curse to himself.

You were so tight. He thought he was going to lose his mind. Even with a condom, he could feel how absolutely wet you were, and the fact your walls were pressing so tightly around his cock was making him worried he was going to cum after the first full thrust.

Your eyes were closed – you were still afraid of making eye contact with yourself in the mirror above his bed – and your eyebrows were furrowed but it didn’t hurt. It was just…different. It was definitely a stretch that you weren’t familiar with, but that was the most uncomfortable thing about it.

Hyunjin let out a breath as he bottomed out inside you. He finally looked up to check on you, resting his forehead against yours. Even in the dim lighting, you could tell his pupils were absolutely blown out.

“Good girl. You’re doing so good,” he breathed, cradling your face between his hands. “Still feel okay? Doesn’t hurt?”

You shook your head, “Doesn’t hurt. Just…weird.”

He chuckled, “It’ll get better, I promise. Do you want me to move?”

You nodded. He slowly pulled back out, biting down on his bottom lip, before he thrusted back in with the same slowness.

While he was feeling absolutely everything, he could tell you were too in your own head again. You were waiting to feel whatever you thought you were supposed to feel, rather than letting yourself go to just be in the moment and get riled up. You were overthinking it, thus, not in the right headspace to experience what you were looking for.

As always, Hyunjin was the master of distractions. Passionate makeouts, sucking marks all over your neck and chest, playing with your clit, and of course, non-stop whisperings of praise.

“Taking me so well, like you were made for me,” he’d murmur as his plush lips explored your chest.

“My baby’s doing so good for me,” he kept breathing with his lips right by your ear as he picked up the pace. “So, so, so good.”

He wasn’t sure why the hell he’d keep talking to you when you clenched around him every single time, which slowly stole his sanity away. He was holding on by a prayer at this point, but thankfully, you were starting to let out soft moans, nails scratching lightly at his skin.

“Feel good, baby?” he asked with a small smirk.

“Y-yeah,” you whispered out, eyes still closed. “Feels s-so good, Jinnie…”

Back during his sex days, he was a man of hard and fast sex. He liked things rough and dirty. He could never imagine ever having an actual good time during slow and soft sex because he hated those shoots the most. He found them boring and he had the hardest time for a while trying to even get himself to finish by the end. But god, he was pretty sure holding you close while he thrusted slowly and deep inside of you was tied for first now. He couldn’t have been happier. He didn’t want the moment to end.

But it would eventually, because not only had he been ready to cum basically since the beginning, but you were feeling him in places you didn’t think anything could reach. You felt that full feeling that you’d seen and heard people talk about, and mixed with Hyunjin’s skilled fingers and his constant praise between his own moans, you weren’t going to last much longer either.

“You gonna cum, baby?” he asked in almost a coo.

You nodded in quick, small motions. He could see it all over your face. Your eyebrows furrowed and you were biting your lower lip. You were clenching more and more and harder and harder and it was driving him crazy. But he wanted you to cum first. He needed you to cum. God, he needed to feel you cum around him.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you,” he promised, his forehead resting against yours like it had been most of the night. He only moved to lean in enough to press a soft kiss to your lips. “Cum for me, love.”

“Hyunj-jin,” your whimper was so high and quiet that he almost didn’t even make it out.

“Yes, pretty girl?”

“L-love you,” you breathed between moans that got higher and higher in pitch. “Love you s-so much.”

“Say it again,” he panted. This was the push he needed. He wanted to hear you tell him that while he came. “Please.”

“I love you,” it was almost inaudible because you were right on the edge, and as soon as you got those three words out, your jaw fell open as you continued to look up right into Hyunjin’s eyes.

Nothing even came out of your mouth as you came the hardest you had in your life. He inhaled sharply as your walls clamped down around him, fluttering and pulsing as he helped you ride out your high, but that triggered his own. His lips crashed into yours, swallowing his moans in wet kisses as his lips gradually slowed. You were whimpering softly by the time he completely stilled, his softening cock still buried deep inside you.

He pulled away only to slowly leave soft kisses all over your face, brushing hair away from your skin that was coated in a light sheen of sweat. Your eyes closed as you caught your breath, and you wondered how you could even feel tired when you didn’t even do anything. Hyunjin did it all.

“I love you,” he murmured between kisses. “I love you so much, ____.”

“I love you,” you replied as one hand lazily raked through his hair.

He lifted himself up enough to really look at your face, chuckling as he brushed the back of his knuckles against your cheek. Maybe you were right about now being perfect. There was something so romantic about just holding each other close in the warm glow of his lamp in his bedroom.

“God, I’m so in love with you,” he smiled softly as he just watched you lay beneath him, still completely naked. Your eyes opened and you looked up at him, wondering what prompted him to say that, but a smile creeping onto your face nonetheless. This was something he could get used to. “You’re gonna be the death of me.”

————✧♡✧————-

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sunasrintarhoe · 2 years ago

Text

AHAHAVEJEVEKABJEBD

Personally, I am not a LeeKnow stan, but this- this is magic. To be completely honest, I love demon!skz fics so this was right up my alley, but fuck was it so good!!!!

@seospicybin I’m in love with your brain wtf

DON'T THEY KNOW IT'S THE END OF THE WORLD?

PART I

Lee know x reader. (s,a)

Chapters: Part II

Synopsis: Making a contact with an ancient object, you meet a demon who takes form of the man you desired and forces you to commit terrible acts to stop the world from ending. (14k words)

Author's note: I indulge myself with a spooky fic and demon Minho in it. Read with cautions and enjoy x

Based on an episode of Black Mirror. Content warnings: Violence, gore, mentions of abuse, assaults and graphic imagery. Reader's discretion is advised!

"Carving is easy. You just go down to the skin and stop." - Michelangelo

Oh, no! You're doing it again.

When you think you're talking in your head, you're actually talking loud enough for everyone in the room to hear. It's even worse that your voice is echoing in the big chamber of the empty gallery.

They seem to not care about it or pretend to because Kim has just walked in to check everyone's work. She's your friend from art school turns an art dealer and she has a way to control everyone around her.

"I told you to let us do it for you," she says, clicking her tongue at you and crossing her arms in front of her chest.

The gallery is having some of your pieces of art displayed for the exhibition tonight and you want to make sure that they're presented the way you envisioned it.

You carefully step down the ladder and stand next to Kim, looking at the sculpture you made of a man holding an arrow with an apple stuck at the end of the arrow.

You hear Kim dreamily sigh then look at you, "You're going to sell..." She pauses to emphasize the word she's going to say next, "Big!"

Money isn't the reason why you create these sculptures but you need it in order to keep being able to do this. You have no idea how expensive a block of stone is!

The reason why you made these sculptures is because this is what you love doing: envision your imagination onto a block of stone and you carve it to bring it to life.

Why did you choose stone as the medium? Because they're durable, stubborn yet resilient. It takes time to create one sculpture but once you've seen the result, you forget about the hard work behind it.

Kim puts her hand on your shoulder and snaps you out of your reverie, "Stop worrying about your sculptures," she says.

She turns you around to force you to face her and puts her other hand on your shoulder, "Go home. Get dressed. Put some color on those cheeks. Have a pre-party with a glass of wine or two."

Dressing up sounds like a lot of work, you'd rather stay in your dungarees and striped top, "Can I just wear these?"

It's like she has just heard someone dies, Kim's hand flies to her temple and screws her eyes shut for a second, "Trust me when I say that the people coming tonight wouldn't expect the artist behind these magnificent sculptures to look like Chucky," she says with a sneering smile.

She squeezes your shoulder and tilts her head to the side, "And that's me putting it the nicest way possible because you're my friend."

It's still a mystery how you ended up friends with someone like Kim, she's the opposite of what you are, an extrovert, a tolerable narcissist, she likes attention and is forthright to the point it's borderline insolent. You're so used to her audacious way of treating you and the blunt words that come out of her red-lipped mouth.

She's been like this even before you met her and you are the friend who likes to suffer in silence, you think that's why you became friends. Nevertheless, Kim treats you better than she treats anyone else for that matter.

That explains why the gallery staff are so afraid of her. It's always best to get out of her way unless she wants you to be there. You pick up your bag from the floor along with your jacket.

"I'll go then," you meekly say.

She grabs your elbow before leaving, "Go home," she says with a glare.

"Home. Not your studio," she says again, making it clear to you.

She knows you well enough to know that you like spending your days in your studio instead of your apartment. You sling the strap of your bag on one shoulder, "Go home. Get dressed. Come to the exhibition late," you repeat the things she wanted you to do.

Kim smiles and gently cups your cheek, "Good girl. Now go!"

Once you get home though, you spend hours just sitting in the emptiness that lingers in your apartment that is too big for one person to live in it.

This is why you prefer to stay in your studio, you like to keep your head occupied rather than being alone with your thoughts like this.

And your thoughts, they're mostly of unkind things and...

Your phone rings from inside your bag and steers your mind back to your head. Without having to look at it, you can tell who it is. There are no other people who call you daily except, well, if it's an emergency call.

"Are you getting ready yet?" Kim goes straight to the point.

"Uh... yeah, I just showered, I—" you jolt awake from lying down on the sofa.

"I'm having problems picking what to wear," you add a laugh in the hope of sounding convincing.

There's a wave of laughter from her end of the phone call before Kim talks to the phone, "Stop joking. Do you like it?"

You get completely confused because she suddenly compliments herself out of the blue, "Huh? What?"

You can hear her dramatic, low sigh and you can imagine her subtle eye roll as she's doing it, "The dress. The one I hung in your closet," she tells you.

You quietly trudge your way to the closet and open it to find the said dress.

"Yes, it's beautiful!" You hurriedly say, not wanting to let her get suspicious as she waits for a response.

"Aren't you lucky to have me as your friend?" she exclaims, sounding so confident with her words.

"I am the luckiest," you tell her as you observe the dress and already regretting hastily approving the dress as you notice it has a plunging neckline.

"I know," she brags and her smirk flashes through your head.

In the background, you hear something is calling her and Kim answers with a shout, "I'm coming."

She dramatically sighs before talking to you, "Work is calling. I'll see you tonight, okay?"

"Yeah, sure, see you tonight!" You're more than relieved to end the phone call with her.

It's too early to celebrate as she hasn't ended the call yet and she always ends the call first. You have an inkling that she'll call your name.

Indeed, she is.

"Hey, don't forget to take your meds, okay?" She says.

That's probably the only yet the most endearing thing she does to you and what makes her your friend.

"Yeah, don't worry about it," you tell her.

It's time to fully assess the dress and you're in awe of how much skin you'll show if you're wearing this. Of course, you have the option not to wear but it all comes down to wearing the dress or facing Kim's wrath.

The former seems to be the safer choice and also because you're not a confrontational person, you like to avoid conflict.

Not wearing the dress means you're going straight into conflict and you don't want that.

With a defeated spirit, you put the dress on even though you have no idea how to move in such a tight dress. You summon up your below-average make-up skill for tonight and put some colors on you.

Not forgetting Kim's words, you take your medicine and wash it down with a long gulp of water. You give yourself a few minutes as you wait for the medicine to work while you sit on the couch holding a glass of water in both hands, staring out at the view from your apartment.

Kim insisted you take this apartment when you're okay with living in the studio. Not only that it's too expensive of a place to live on your own but a big place only makes you inexplicably lonely.

However, after seeing the view from up here, you feel like you're not part of this world in the most humbling way. Seeing the city and the buildings look like pieces of block makes you realize that they don't matter that much. They're all just... material things.

You sigh as you get hit by a wave of melancholia and you take it that the medicine is working.

Uncomfortable walking out of your apartment in your dress, you put on a coat as you leave the apartment with the sounds of your heels clicking against the floor.

The owner of the building passed away yesterday, there are so many guests visiting the penthouse where he lived. The first elevator that arrives on your floor is crowded so you skip on getting on that one. You patiently wait for the next one to arrive while clutching your purse in front of you.

A minute later, the other elevator arrives and the doors slide open, you see there's someone else inside. You believe he's been from the penthouse from how he dressed in all black.

You look down to avoid eye contact and step inside, standing at the back of the limited space while trying not to look at the man's face on the reflection from the mirror that walled the elevator.

Arrived in the main lobby, the elevator dings open and the man doesn't waste time but walks out with hands shoved inside his coat pocket.

You fix your coat before stepping out and you feel your feet kicking on something, it's clattering across the floor. You bend down to pick it up, something that you guess is a pocket watch.

Your first thought is that it belongs to the man and you look around to see if he's still around to give it to him, but he's nowhere. It's as if he's gone with the wind.

"Miss, your driver has been waiting outside!" The concierge informs you from behind his desk the second he sees you.

"Yes. I'm coming!" You hurriedly shove the pocket watch inside your purse.

As Kim instructed, you come late to the exhibition and it's already filled with people dressed so impeccably for the occasion. You take a deep breath before entering the scene that is the least you wanted to be.

You take your coat off and hand it to the girl handling the coat check, along with your purse. You feel naked even though you're not, but it's not just the dress, being in the crowd is not your forte.

The first thing to do in a situation like this is to find Kim. You avoid making contact with everyone you're walking past as you look for her in the crowd. It's not hard to spot her when she's always the center of attention anywhere she is.

"There she is!" She gasps the moment she sees you're coming her way.

She puts away her champagne flute and walks up to you, embracing you like the trophy you are, "My rising star!"

Kim puts her hand on the small of your back and smiles brightly while discreetly judging your look.

"Isn't she amazing?" She brags you off to the group of people she's talking to.

You can only sheepishly smile next to her and avoid everyone's eyes.

"She is the artist behind those magnificent sculptures," she adds with that saccharine smile of hers.

They're starting to throw praises at you and you can hear all of them talking at once, making you more uncomfortable staying in there.

You take a step back but Kim's hand does not allow you to escape, she glances at you and takes the cue.

"Excuse us," Kim says to everyone, "Enjoy the exhibition!"

Kim steers you away and pulls you aside, before you can comment on her choice of dress, she snatches the chance from you.

"You could've picked nicker shoes," she whispers through her gritted teeth at you.

You automatically look down to see your heeled shoes which you think match the dress you're wearing.

"I–I think it's—"

She cuts through your words, not giving you a chance to explain. She grabs you by the elbow, "We have no time to change it," she says, then steers you somewhere.

As Kim continues to brag you around like you're the art piece instead of the artist, you start to get that feeling that she's using you.

As a matter of fact, she used you to propel her career as an art dealer. Ever since you agreed to let her sell your art for you, her career took off.

You're more than happy to be of help but she does everything extra and she's been taking you to meet a lot of people that their faces started to blur and it's getting overwhelming that you need to get out of it.

"I'll just—" You barely finish your sentence when you walk away and find somewhere to gain some composure.

You keep walking until you find the restroom and push yourself inside, lock yourself in one of the stalls just sit on the toilet, and just breathe.

You hear the ruckus outside the stall and someone probably needs to use the toilet, you reluctantly get up to start heading outside.

The plan to leave unnoticed comes to a failure when Kim is already there right outside the restroom, "Where have you been?"

You take a deep breath to calm yourself and try to explain, "Kim, I don't think I can do this anymore. I—"

Then again, she never let you finish your sentence, "One more. I need you to meet your new potential buyer."

You grip the side of your dress and you feel like tearing it apart, "No, Kim. You know how I do with people, I don't— I just want to go home," you desperately tell her just to let you go when you're an adult and can do whatever you want.

Kim lets out an exaggerated huff and sends her fringe flying off her forehead, crossing her arms in front of her and you know what's coming for you.

"You think I'm doing this for me?" She asks.

Actually, yes. The initial plan is to sell your art but in the end, she makes it all about her.

"I'm doing it for you!" She says, turning it all on to you. She always finds a way to turn it all on to you, making you feel guilty and defeated.

Talking back to her means that you're saying yes to war and you don't want to fight a losing fight. You fist the fabric of your dress trying to suppress the anger brewing inside you.

"Just one more person," you meekly say.

Her face softens at the sign that you're once again giving her the power, "That's right. Just one more and I'll let you go."

You finally let go of your dress and you wipe your sweaty palm down the back of your dress as she guides you back to the gallery.

"All you have to do is stand next to me, smiling and explaining your art to people," Kim instructed like that wasn't what you've been doing all night.

Except that she forgot that you need to fake all of that.

Kim takes you to one of your sculpture displays and three people in suits have been waiting, talking with drinks in their hands.

"Hello, gentlemen," Kim says with an extra polite voice that makes you shudder at how fake she sounded.

"Heard you're looking for the amazing artist behind these beautiful sculptures?" She continues, presenting you like you're the one who's about to get sold, not the sculpture.

One of the three seems to be the one in charge with a stance that oozes confidence and power, a smirk that only someone who grew up with a silver spoon stuck to his mouth can master. He looks years older than you but his face shows no fine lines but that's just because he never had to frown in his life.

"I adore your art so much," he praises with a teeth-baring smile.

Kim turns at you and introduces him, "This is Nicholas de Ville from the de Ville family."

The way she enunciated his last name only means that this person holds importance and she expects you to impress him.

He holds his hand out next with an expensive, shining wristwatch decorated his wrist, "I'm Nicholas de Ville. You can call me Nick."

He may seem nice and polite because all privileged people learn manners but they only apply that lesson in real life occasionally.

You take his hand or else Kim will force you to do it. You shake his hand for a while and accidentally meet his gaze as you try to take your hand back.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. de Ville!" You say as politely as you can.

"Nick, please!" He insists with a smile.

"And the pleasure is all mine." He adds with a smile that says so many things and they send a chill down your spine.

Kim lets go of her hand and lightly touches you on your arm, "Mr. de Ville wants to know more about your sculptures so..." she quietly pushes you his way.

Nick courteously laughs and says, "Would you be kind enough to give me the tour?"

You consider it for a moment but seeing Kim's glare, you know you have no option.

"Yes, sure, I would love to," you answer with a strained smile.

"Great! Please, lead the way!" Nick says.

When you think the other two are coming with you, it's just you and Nick, walking through your sculptures and you explain each one without trying to bore him like Kim has taught you a few times.

"... it's inspired by the Greek mythology. The apple in the arrow means that when it comes to love, we know no rules, we follow our desires—"

Nick is too busy looking at you instead of looking at the sculpture you're tirelessly explaining to him. Guessing that he isn't interested, you stop talking altogether.

"I'm sorry if I'm rambling," you sheepishly say to him and keep looking at the sculpture.

"No, no, that's okay," Nick says with a smile and takes a stand close to you, also looking at the sculpture.

"Your art is as beautiful as you," he says.

You're getting uncomfortable at how close he is with his elbow brushing yours. You nervously swallow air and lowly mutter, "Thank you."

Nick takes it the wrong way. He takes it that you're replying to his flirtation when you thought he was earnestly complimenting you, he starts to place his hand on your shoulder.

You reflexively shrug his hand away but that only sends his hand down to your back where he can touch your exposed skin. As his fingers make contact with your skin, you take a step back until his hand drops.

"I'm sorry," you regret apologizing for something that you didn't do wrong.

He looks at you as if he didn't just do something wrong or touch you without your consent. You feel repulsed by yourself and take another step back, "I'm sorry, I just need to—"

You keep walking away, away and never looking back.

The musty smell and dust that hang in the air welcome you to the studio.

You take your dress off the first thing you do when you get there and put on any clothes you can find in the dresser, a black T-shirt and worn-out jeans.

You put your earrings inside your purse and the pocket watch you collected earlier spills out of it, falling onto the couch.

You're intrigued to see inside the locket to get a hint on who the owner is, you're trying so hard to open it with the strength you have but it won't budge.

Exhausted from trying to open the antique-looking object, you give up and walk over to the sculpture you're working on. You put the pocket watch down on the table next to your carving tools, then pick up a chisel and a hammer.

For every hit of the hammer, you feel like unleashing something that makes you feel lighter and lighter and makes you hit the chisel harder and harder.

You eventually get exhausted and take a step back, leaning against the table while looking at the unshapen block of stone in front of you.

You grope around for a bottle of water and take a sip, putting it down as you wipe your mouth after. Your fingers nudge something as you place your hand on the table, it's the pocket watch blinking under the fluorescent light.

It seems to be calling for you, inviting you to try and uncover the mystery inside.

Looking at the small chisel next to it, you decide to give it another try by prying it open with the chisel. You slip the sharp end in the crack and use your strength to push it open only for the chisel to slide to the slide, cutting the side of your finger.

You drop the pocket watch as blood drops from the wound onto the table. It's not the first time you injured yourself, you know what to do. You go to the bathroom, wash your finger under the running water then grab your first aid kit from the drawer.

After tending to your small injury, you decide to not continue working when you're angry. You take another sip of water and lie down on the couch.

With the quiet that hangs in the room, you slowly drift into sleep.

SEVEN DAYS TO THE END OF THE WORLD.

The darkness greets you even though you have opened your eyes.

Pretty sure you kept one of the lights on when you went to sleep but it's all dark now in the room, you can't see anything but lights that shine through the cracks of the blinds.

You slowly get up from the couch to turn the light on, carefully walking to where the switch is, and once you flip it, lights flood the room.

The first thing you see is the pocket watch that is now open, you walk over to the table and pick it up to see inside that it's just a normal watch but it doesn't have numbers on it like all watches have.

You close it and see that your blood tainted the lid, this time, you can easily open it without a hassle.

"Hello!" A voice says.

Surprised to hear a voice coming from it, you drop it back onto the table. A moment later, you laugh it off, thinking that you misheard it considering that you just woke up from sleep.

With hesitancy, you pick the pocket watch again and look at it. Your thumb wipes the glass cover of the watch.

"Hi, Hello, I'm Minho. I'm a demon. You anointed this talisman with your blood so now we're bound together and—"

It speaks again and in response, you hurl it across the room until it hits the wall and drops onto the floor. You stand there, frozen on your feet, and wonder...

"Look, I've got a whole introductory speech here," the voice says again, coming from the part of the room where the pocket watch is.

For protection, you stand behind the open bathroom door and look at the pocket watch talking like a lunatic you are.

"We got to work together," it says.

You whimper hearing the voice again and you know that it's real, you're not making this up.

"Can you pick me up? Just pick me up. Come on, pick me up! Please?" It demands.

You take cautious steps to get to where the pocket watch lies on the floor.

"That's it, come on. Come on. I won't bite, I promise. Come on," it says as if it could see that you're coming to pick it up.

You swallow air and slowly bend down to pick it up from the floor, holding the pocket watch in your hand.

"As I was saying, you anointed the talisman and the rules are you've got to carry out three human sacrifices over the next seven days or else the world is going to end," it speaks again.

That's a lot of information to take in, not to mention that you're already having a hard time wrapping your head around the fact that the pocket watch is talking to you.

"W-what?" You breathlessly say.

"If you want me to help you, you need to permit me entry."

Entry? That sounds like a bad idea. You just stand there and look at the pocket watch.

"Do you permit me entry? Yes or no?" It asks.

You shake your head and convince yourself that maybe it is not real.

"You have to say yes. Just say the word yes."

This is not real, you tell yourself out loud.

"Or let's do this, if you say yes, I'll... I'll stop, okay? I'll go away. You'll never hear from me again like this didn't happen." It persuades.

This is not real, this is not real, you chant in your head.

"Just say yes. Say it! Say it. Say it. Say it," it chants louder and it starts to fill your head, endlessly echoing.

You want it to stop so you impulsively say, "Yes."

The chants stop and the light flickers off, filling the room with darkness again. You whimper in fear as the pocket watch starts ticking in your hand.

You hear something deeply breathing a few feet from behind you. Curious, you spin around on your feet to see what it is, but you can't see it as it's lurking in the dark

However, you feel good about not being able to see it as fear creeping up inside you. You walk backward until you hit the wall behind you.

"Hey, come on, what's the matter?" The thing says as he takes a step forward, revealing his form to you.

The first thing you can make out the shape of that thing is two long horns on his head and two red eyes.

"All right. I lied about going away," he says in a deep, growling voice.

"My regular appearance is a bit too much for this realm."

He takes a step back and disappears in the dark. After a while, he takes another step to the front and has already taken a different shape. He looks normal now, as in looking like a human and not just any human, he looks like...

"I peered into your soul and apparently, this is a physical look you find appealing so..." he says with his arms spread out and a proud grin on his face.

"I don't know. Let me have a look!" He walks over to the mirror hung on the wall next to you.

He looks just like the sculpture you made, he has a sharp nose, chiseled jaws, and a hair color as intense as red roses go. You feel a mix of fear, awe, and confusion inside and it's getting overwhelming.

He leans close to the mirror and fixes his hair, "Wow!"

He seems impressed by how he looks, "Okay, isn't it what you want?" He turns to you.

Not getting an answer from you, he smiles, then says, "Uh... I mean, I can work with this."

You can only whimper with your mouth parted open, having a hard time wrapping your head around this situation. If it's happening or not, is he real or not, did you take your meds or not?

"You have to calm down so we can talk. Just talk to me!" Minho says, noticing that you're in a state of panic.

For a split second, you see his eyes flash like those belonging to feline creatures, gleaming like two marbles in the dark. You can feel cold sweat on your back as you slump down against the wall until you're sitting down on the floor.

He squats down in front of you and reaches for your head but you're quick to dodge away from it.

"You know, we have got to work together," he assures you.

It's not fair that he has a face that came from your imagination, it gives you a sense of familiarity that lures you to give in. However, you're not sure if you should be giving in to him.

You bang the back of your head to the wall, close your eyes, and repeatedly chant like it's a mantra, "You're not real. You're not real. You're not real."

But that is not enough to expel him. You open your eyes and still find him there. hand and a grin.

"Like I said, we have got to work together," he tells you again.

To give you the space to gather your thoughts, he walks around the studio while talking, "You marked the talisman. I don't make the rules."

With the lights turning back on, your eyes can easily follow his figure going around the room and looking at the sculpture you're working on.

His fingers slowly graze the rough surface of the carved stone and then he turns his head at you.

"Basically, we need to deliver three human sacrifices by next Friday or else it's..." he informs you again as if you haven't heard him the first time, "burning skies time."

You can feel anxiety rising inside you and your throat is closing up, making it harder for you to breathe.

"I sense you need convincing. Uh..." Minho walks up to you again and offers his hands to you.

You look at his hands for a moment before letting him help you to get up from the floor. You imagine your hands reaching for fragments of your imagination but instead of that, you feel his warm skin and firm grip as he hoists you up until you're standing on your feet.

If he's not real then how can you hold him?

He looks at you for a second to make sure you're okay then nods, "Let me show you how this will play out, alright? What will happen if we don't succeed," he says.

He walks to stand behind you and puts a hand in front of your eyes, "You ready?" He asks, his hot breath fans your neck as he speaks.

You're not sure what he's asking you to get ready for. You're not even sure if you're living the reality right now.

"Ready?" He asks again and once again his breath tickles your ear.

"3, 2, 1!"

As if you're being transported to another time and place, you open your eyes to see fire. It's the studio but it is on fire.

"This is what we're dealing with!" Minho says but you can't see him anywhere.

Fire is everywhere and you can feel the heat of it burning your skin and thick smoke filling your lungs that you start coughing, retching for air.

"Scorching wall of flame. It's agonizing death for all and so on," he continues.

You're flailing around to get air, walking to the window to open it only to find it hot to touch and you see that the whole city burns with you. You hear people screaming and sirens blaring everywhere but anywhere you look, it's just blazing fire.

You get away from the window until your back hits the table behind you and snaps you back to reality. Your head turns to the side and see Minho there, leaning against the table next to you.

"See, burning people they smell like... a burnt slice of meat on a griddle. It's better if you dissociate from it," he coyly says.

The images are so vivid that you feel the need to escape it, run away from here and so you do. You make a run to the door and he's already standing there next to it.

"If we're being honest, I don't want the apocalypse to come about any more than you do," he says.

You turn the knob and open it, running through the hall that leads to the exit door. Yet Minho is already there too.

"So let's stop it happening, you and me, mmh?" He says to you.

"All we have to do is deliver three sacrifices in seven days," he pops at the end of the hall.

You yank the door open and find him standing outside the door.

"It's only three killings," he says with a malicious laugh.

You rush to climb down the steps trying to escape what you know is like trying to get out of your head, it's inescapable.

"Animals don't count. You have to do humans," Minho informs at the base of the stairs.

You hurriedly unlock the iron gate and pull it open, running into the street in the middle of the night but of course, he's already there too.

"We can do like one kill a day but I'm good with one kill in two days and—"

You decide to go the other way from where Minho is standing and just aimlessly walking to avoid him. You know the neighborhood but not as good as when it's at night.

You walk down the stairs that lead to the riverbank, feeling more afraid of Minho instead of being mugged at night.

"That is fewer people than die falling off ladders in the same time period," Minho magically appears on the stairs, leaning against the railing.

"You'd be less lethal than a ladder," he adds with a sly smirk.

Your eyes are watery either from the cold wind or the anxiety taking over you. You sniffle before talking to him, "If I talk to you, you're real so I'm not going—"

You walk away before you can finish your sentence and walk along the riverbank, hugging yourself.

"Well, we started conversing already so that ship has sailed."

You can't believe that he's still following you when he knows exactly why you are trying to get away.

"No, it hasn't," you persist when you know he's right.

"Oh, oh yes it has," he talks back with a mocking tone.

You stop on your track and grunt in frustration, bending down to pick whatever is close to you.

Minho stops walking as well and says, "Don't worry. We're a team. I'm on your side, you know?"

He takes a step forward and keeps talking, ignoring that he's the reason why you're so frustrated.

"Let's just get kill number one under your belt, mmh?" He says in a softer tone.

You turn at him, your finger pointing right at his sharp nose and sternly tell him, "You can stop it because I am not killing anyone!"

You take a deep breath to calm yourself down and try to face him again, "You're not real so I don't why you keep talking to me," you snarl.

Minho coyly smiles at you and calmly responds, "That's what I'm here for. Moral support!"

He takes even a closer step to you and lowers his voice, "So, just hold on to that rock and hit someone with it!"

You get confused by what he said, "What rock?"

He eyes your hand on your side, "The one in your hand, love!" He answers.

You don't even realize you've been holding it until he pointed it out. The moment you know, you can feel its weight in your hand.

You gasp in surprise and glare at Minho, "I'm not doing what you say."

You hear footsteps coming from under the bridge and turn around to see a middle-aged man, "Are you alright, Miss?"

But Minho sees it as an opportunity, he stands and looms behind you, whispering evil things into your head.

"Mmmh... yeah," he hums in victory.

"He's perfect. No witnesses. Talk about beginner's luck," he whispers to you so close that it feels like he's living inside your head.

You feel his hand resting on your shoulder as he further persuades you, "Just one quick pop to the head and you're done."

For a second, you wanted to do what he said just so he could stop bothering you. However, the conscience in you is talking you out of it.

You walk toward the man and try to seek help from him, "Please, make him stop!" You say, gesturing to Minho who's standing right next to you.

The man looks confused by what you said and asks, "Make who stop?"

Disoriented by what's real or not, you keep looking back at Minho, then at the man, getting pushed to where you hit your limit.

The man walks up to you, feeling more concerned for you that he asks again, "Is everything alright?"

The relentless demon he is, Minho stands close next to you and whispers, "Would it help if I told you I can see into this man's soul and he absolutely deserves to die?"

This time you know it's his way to get what he wants, to get you to do the deed. You look away and hastily shout, "Shut up!"

Yet Minho keeps talking about the man as he's giving you a stare, one that you're way too familiar with, and convinces you that he thinks you're crazy.

"He has a wife and a daughter, you want to know what he does to them?" Minho's words hold intense hatred in them like you can feel the bitterness of it on your tongue.

You look at him to see if he's just tricking you to kill the man, "Don't trust me? Well, get a load of this!"

Minho covers your eyes with his hand again and this time, images of the man abusing his wife and daughter over and over again that you can't bear to watch anymore.

He snaps you back to reality again and says, "You'll save them both from years of pain, shame, and guilt."

Fueled by the rage from what you've seen through Minho's vision, you launch yourself at the man and hit him hard on the head, sending him tumbling to the side and into the river.

You stand there watching his body sinking into the water until the air stops bubbling to the surface of water and that's when you're certain that he's dead.

The man is dead.

Despite the shock, you manage to walk away while still carrying the rock in your hand, and once you realize you've been holding to it long enough. You throw it into the river then break into a run back to the studio.

You vomit everything into the toilet bowl once you're back in the studio, retching nothing but saliva and air.

Minho is standing at the doorway of the bathroom as he says, "It takes some used to but a couple more of that and I'll be out of your hair," he says.

You flush the toilet and sit on the bathroom floor, looking at him with teary eyes and the shock that hasn't left your body yet.

He pulls out the pocket watch and shows you that the Roman number written inside has gone one line, "See? One line has gone which means one sacrifice registered. Two to go."

You get up from the floor and drag yourself to the couch, feeling so drained by whatever has driven you to do unimaginable things, one that you thought you'd never done in your life.

Morning has passed but you can't find the energy to live for the day.

You're lying down on the couch watching the sky turn brighter with every hour passed. It hasn't sunk in yet what you did last night. It feels like a dream but at the same time, you can still feel the weight of the rock in your hand.

Minho has been quiet but you know he's lurking in the room and he decides to interfere by standing in front of you.

He tips his head to the side and asks, "How long are you going to stay like this?"

He then sits on the other end of the couch and says, "Well, you have to, at least, do whatever it is you do as a sculptor. You can't have people getting suspicious."

How come he takes it lightly? How did he get so calm after telling you to kill a man and watch you doing it?

"Fucking shut up!" You shout at him.

Talking to him makes everything unbearably real and it makes you recollect what happened last night. The guilt, the disgust you feel for yourself, the blood on your hands, you can see everything now under the daylight.

"I killed a man," you croak, saying it hurts that tears start to crawl out of you.

"I've killed someone," you meekly say with a tear rolling down from the corner of your eyes.

"Yeah, but that was hours ago," Minho nonchalantly says.

"I keep feeling the crack of his skull on the rock," you pause to sniffle and turn to look at Minho, "I did that."

But he wouldn't get what you feel because he's not a human in the first place. Minho is a demon.

"It's your fault. You're not even—" You stop talking because it's no use to talk to an entity that knows no compassion.

You brush your hair to the back and deeply sigh. Turning your head at Minho again to ask, "Why is this happening to me?"

You use the heel of your hand to press on your eye to stop crying, "I'm not a bad person."

"No, no, no," Minho quickly denies.

He moves to stand behind the couch and leans close to you, "It wouldn't work if you were. It has to be someone corruptible," he explains.

Your forehead wrinkles and forms a questioning look on your face, trying to make sense of what he said.

"If you think about it, what's happening here, it reflects really well on your character," he says with a smile.

What he said only assures you that you are a bad person. What you did is the reflection of what you truly are, a bad person.

You nod and wipe your wet cheek with the back of your hand. You get up to sit on the couch and grab your purse, rummaging inside to pull out your phone.

"What are you doing?" Minho asks with a panicked voice.

You dial the police line on your phone and show it to him, "Calling the police."

He jolts on his feet and sits next to you on the couch as you hit the call button.

"But why?" He asks.

You can hear the dialing tone ringing so close to your ear, "So they'll arrest me," you simply answer.

Minho nervously chuckles, "Then you won't be able to do the other sacrifices," he reminds you to rethink your choices.

"Good!" You shortly respond, trying to stay in your right mind this time.

"Then the Apocalypse will happen and billions will die. I know, I know, I get it. You don't want blood on your hand but if it saves billions..." He's babbling, desperately trying to stop you from turning yourself in.

The way he puts it that way, he makes you choose the lesser between the two evils.

"Hello, police department, may I help you?" The operator speaks on the phone.

Kill three people who deserve it or save billions of innocent people?

You find yourself hanging up the call and putting your phone away, once again failing to do the right thing.

"See? You're a good person!" Minho says as he exhales in relief.

To be honest, you don't know what's good or bad, right or wrong anymore. It's one big blur to you.

You feel frustrated once again, you feel like a failure but on the bigger picture, you're trying to stop the world from ending.

But can you really save everyone?

You can't wait to dwell on everything in the comfort of your apartment. Before you can do all that, you need to set boundaries with him. You face him and look him right in the eyes, "I have six days to kill two more so please, give me a break for now."

Minho gets quiet for a moment before nodding in agreement, "That's fair."

Feeling the need to wash yourself from whatever it is clinging to your body, you get a shower and take your meds to help you decompress while sitting on the end of your bed in your bathrobe.

"I don't know why you take those pills," Minho says as he enters your room.

You quietly sigh at him and say, "Can you at least give me a few minutes until it's working?"

"Want to wash it down with wine?" He offers, showing the bottle of red in his hand.

You shake your head, "I can't drink alcohol after taking antidepressants," you answer, not sure why bother answering him.

"That sucks!" He says and puts the wine bottle down on top of your dresser, "I was thinking we could celebrate our first kill."

You feel a little faint at the mention of the word kill and celebrate being put in one sentence. You climb onto the bed and pull your duvet, "I need to rest."

Minho appears at the end of your bed, looking down at you with his dark, wide eyes, "That's right. We have a lot to do tomorrow."

"Can you turn the lights out for me?"

"Certainly."

The room turns dark but you get a newfound comfort in it.

"Goodnight," Minho's voice caresses your ears like a spring breeze.

You don't want to get used to this but you feel inexplicably at ease that there's someone else with you in this vast emptiness.

"Goodnight, Minho."

SIX DAYS TO THE END OF THE WORLD

You jolt awake to the sounds of your phone ringing on your bedside table and you know who it is without having to look at the contact name. Your fingers are tapping the phone screen as you squint your eyes to make sure you hit the accept call button.

"Yeah?" You ask as you put the phone on the side of your face while you're lying on your side with your eyes closed.

"You're still sleeping?" Kim asks, noticing the sleep in your voice.

"Mm-mmh," you hum in answer.

"You know what time it is?"

"I don't know. Nine or ten?" You wildly guess by how badly you want to go back to sleep.

You hear her sighing from the other line of the call, "It's almost 2 in the afternoon," she says.

You force your eyes to open to check the time yourself and see that it is indeed two in the afternoon.

"Oh?" You innocently gasp.

Realizing that may piss her off, you hurried to shift the conversation elsewhere, "Yeah, uh... why are you calling again?"

You fear that she's going to be mad about you abruptly leaving the exhibition or worse if she knew about Nick. You hold your breath, anticipating her answer.

"Oh, yes, I have good news," she says with a smile that you can feel from your end of the line.

"You sold four sculptures, darling!" She squeals.

That's exciting news but you don't have it in you to participate in that excitement, yet you feel relieved you can properly breathe at ease.

"That's... That's great!" You meekly say while raking your hair to the back with your fingers.

"I've been calling you since yesterday, you know that?"

"Oh? I, uhm..." You take a moment to think of an answer.

Summoned a demon? Found out that you have seven days to the end of the world? Killed someone to stop it?

"I needed—"

"Never mind!" She rudely cuts you off, "Guessing from how tired you sounded, you must be going straight back to work, huh?"

The sculpture is still a chunk of unshapen stone but yeah, you worked on it just a bit. Well, a work is a work.

"Yeah, I-I did," you sputter your answer yet thankful that all of her guesses are off the mark.

"I'll come with the paperwork tomorrow. For now, you can rest now or work some more, knock yourself out," she says, couldn't care less about what you're doing now that you've made money and she got to feed on a few percent of it.

"Thanks, Kim!" You say, because it's better to always be on her good side.

"Oh, come on! We both working hard," she kindly refuses but you know she feels entitled to this.

"Let's have a dinner to celebrate," she suggests.

"Yeah, yeah," you half-heartedly answer.

"Talk to you later, okay?"

"Okay."

"Bye!"

You don't even bother to say it back knowing that she'll hang up right after she said her bye. Since you've woken up already, you sit up on the bed and pull your knees up, hugging your feet as you gather your thoughts.

In your peripheral vision, you see a flash of red from the doorway of your room. You turn to look and see Minho standing with the side of his body leaning against the doorframe.

The all-black outfit he's wearing makes his honey skin glow and his hair look like a blazing fire under the sunlight. He smiles once he notices your eyes are on him.

"Morning, sunshine!" He sweetly greets you with a smile that is a little unsettling but a whole lot attractive.

He crosses his arms in front of him, exposing the veins coiling his forearms, "Oh, wait, it's way past noon," he says with a grin.

Looking at him only reminds you of the responsibility you're carrying on your shoulders: saving billions of people from being incinerated.

"Are you always like this or...?" Minho asks, breaking the silence that hung in the room as you think of the dire situation you're in.

Minho approaches you and stands at the end of the bed, "You can't stay in all day. We only have five and a half days left," he reminds you of the time-sensitive quest you're in.

The only way to save those billions is by killing three people. That's the only thing on the pro list, there are just too many cons, mainly on the killing part. The only good thing that comes out of it so far is that you only need to do two more killings.

God! What have you become?

"What should I do?" You hopelessly ask him even though it's a bad idea to ask a demon such a question.

"Just carry on as usual so the people around you don't get spooked," he answers.

It's you and him, him and you, there's no one else you can seek help from.

Minho is right. You can't just sit here and watch the day goes by or else the thing you've done would come to a waste.

You slowly scoot over to sit on the edge of the bed and rub the sleep of your eyes, not ready to face the day when you know you only have six days left to stop the end of the world.

"And while we're going on about the day we can decide who to kill next," Minho adds.

The devilish grin looks beautiful on his sculpted face but everything he says sending a chill down your spine.

"Oh, an old lady!" Minho exclaims as an elderly lady enters the elevator.

You silently watch as he scoots closer to her and smells her head, "She smells like... oh! She's sweet."

You silently groan in the corner watching what he's doing.

He places his hand on the lady's shoulder and says, "She can't stop thinking about the end though. She can't wait for it to come."

He looks at you with that wild grin plastered on his face, "You'd be doing her a favor."

You lightly shake your head at him to make him stop playing around the poor lady but he doesn't get the clues.

"She dreams of death. Even now—"

"Shut up!" You say through your gritted teeth.

The old lady turns to look at you, "What is it, my dear?"

You quickly put on a smile for her, "Oh, nothing," you politely say.

Minho walks up to stand next to you again and whispers in your ear, "Just do it. No one will miss her."

"Shut up!" You whisper back while throwing daggers with your eyes at him.

"She's nearly dead already!"

Thankfully, the elevator dings open and shoots his idea down as you step out of the elevator.

"We need to start to pick someone!" He persists as he follows you walking in the lobby.

Minho is such a nuisance.

It's hard to ignore him when he keeps talking, making remarks about everyone he sees, and constantly around you the whole time.

It's when you're working on your sculpture that you get to immerse yourself in your work and disassociate from reality.

All you hear is the slamming sound of your hammer on the chisel and pieces of stone falling onto the floor. Looking down at the mess you made, you spot one particular piece of stone lying close to your feet. You stare at it for too long you get the recollection of that night.

The weight of the rock in your hand, how you bashed someone's head with it, and the splashing sound of the man falling into the water, all of that vividly playing in the back of your head.

You stagger backward and drop your chisel onto the floor, the clattering sound echoing in the spacious studio.

"I've been meaning to tell you this," Minho appears from behind the sculpture, startling you.

"We should order food," he suggests.

You put away your hammer and take off your mask, walking to the mini fridge to get a bottle of water.

"You're a demon. You feed on..." You think for a moment to finish your sentence as you unscrew the cap of the bottle.

He snatches the flyer stuck to the fridge door and asks, "Pizza?"

You close the fridge and walk over to the couch, plopping yourself down before chugging some water into your system.

"You need to eat so you can—"

"Kill?" You finish his sentence.

Minho scrunches his nose and sits on the armrest of the couch next to you, "I was about to say think but yeah, that too," he says.

You untie your pinafore and throw it aside, he isn't wrong to say that you need to eat. What's the point of saving the world if you're going to die of starvation?

You let out a sigh and grab the flyer from his hand, typing the numbers on your phone screen.

"Cheese pizza, please? With a lot of pepperoni!"

How can you believe that he's a demon when his choice of pizza topping is like a toddler's?

"Good evening, Miss!" The concierge greets you as he sees you enter the door.

"Hi," you greet back, impatiently wanting to get back to your apartment to dwell on your fate again.

"Miss Kim came by and dropped something for you," he informs, taking out a big envelope from your mailing box.

There's a faint sound coming from the small TV tuned to a news broadcast when you come to the desk to collect it.

"Here it is, Miss," he slides the big brown envelope across the shiny surface of the desk. There's a note on top of it which you immediately recognize as Kim's.

You open to do a quick check on what's inside when you hear a glimpse of the news from the TV.

"...man found dead in the river has been identified as Ben Watson, a financial officer of a bank company, leaving a wife and a seven-year-old daughter who has been notified about his tragic death..."

You glance at the small screen and see the photograph of the man you killed that night. You can't possibly be wrong about this when you remember the horror on his face as you lifted the rock before swinging it hard to his head.

"Is there anything wrong, Miss?" The concierge asks.

You snap yourself out of your daze and put the envelope close to your chest as if someone about to steal it from you.

"No, no," your voice is quivering in panic at the sight of the man you killed.

"Thank you," you abruptly the conversation with gratitude and walking fast to the elevator.

The warm water doesn't work to calm you down when you're tainted inside. You feel filthy, inside and out. You feel sick seeing your reflection in the mirror.

You've been holding your medicine in your hand but you need something stronger, you ditch the pill and run to the kitchen.

You pull out the wine you have in the kitchen cabinet and drink it straight from the bottle, chugging it like it's water. You gasp when you stop drinking, taking the bottle with you as you sit on the sofa while you're still in your bathrobe.

"This is how you're going to end the day?" Minho asks, taking the bottle of wine from you to take a sip.

"Can you stop talking about killing for just—" You choke on air as anger bubbles up inside you.

Minho holds his hands up in defeat and leans back on the sofa next to you, "I'm just saying..." he meekly says.

The silence only resides for a minute until he speaks again, "Look, the earlier you get it done—" he stops talking when you shoot him a glare.

You take the bottle of wine from him and take a long gulp, a drop of wine escapes the corner of your mouth, dripping down your chin.

You aggressively wipe it with the sleeve of your bathrobe and recline on the sofa, looking out at the city lights that look like pinpricks in the dark of the night.

"I'm crazy..." you sadly remark.

Those words remind you of a sobering fact that what people think of you: crazy.

Ever since you were still an art student, people often found you talking to yourself in class, always in your little world with your imaginary friend. That leads you to this solitary life because normal people avoid crazy.

"People are right about me. I'm crazy," you state again, and saying it out loud makes your heart aches.

Minho turns his head and looks at you with his dark eyes that weirdly provide you warmth, "You're not crazy."

But why would a normal person kill a person because a demon told him to? You don't even know if he's real and not a product of your imagination.

"I'm a murderer..." you say with a heavy sigh and an even heavier heart.

He scoots closer until he sits close next to you, his shoulder bumps with yours on the big sofa that could fit five people. He looks at you and gently says, "Yeah, but not a crazy one."

Minho has a way of looking at bad things positively. You chuckle at the irony of his words. You can't tell if you should be happy that you're not crazy or sad that you're indeed a murderer.

He slumps down on the sofa to be on the same level as you, also turning his head to look at the view, "Want to know something?"

Instead of answering, you take a sip of the wine. You know he'll keep talking even if you refuse him.

"This is actually my first assignment," he shares.

He drops his hand on the space on the sofa, merely inches away from yours, "It's more of an initiation, sort of earning my wings."

You look at him and get a little taken aback by the proximity you can see yourself in his eyes. You almost forget what you were trying to say to him, "What are you trying to say?"

You look away because he looks exactly like the one you envisioned on your sculpture, divinely beautiful that it's hard to comprehend.

"I'm saying that I'm new to this too," he answers.

Again, you can't tell if you should be happy or sad to know that. Strangely though, you find comfort in his words.

You look at his hand splayed so close to yours and it evokes the curiosity in you that needs to be fed. You gently flip over his hand and gently slip your fingers on the spaces between his fingers, you can feel the warmth and the roughness of his finger pads on each finger.

Minho is real, he's real, you perpetually assure yourself.

You glance at him and he's looking at you, your eyes meet in a tender gaze.

"Are you real, Minho?"

You're aware of how much that question weighs. If the answer is no, you know the insurmountable pain you brought onto yourself.

He slowly blinks and you can see his dark lashes fanning out so beautifully. His crimson-red lips open and says, "I'm as real as you want me to be."

Words aren't enough to convince you. With the despair filling your heart, you lean in and innocently put your lips on his. It's a kiss that feels more than just a physical act, one that you didn't know you needed.

After getting the reassurance that you need, you pull away. However, the hand lingering on your jaw tells otherwise. He touches your face with just his fingertips yet it's enough to send a tingle inside.

Slowly, he leans in to kiss your closed eyelids ever so softly and before you know it, he brings your face closer to place a tender kiss on your lips.

And for the first time in your life, you feel the warmth no one has ever given you.

FIVE DAYS TO THE END OF THE WORLD

"You wake up early!" Minho says as you dress up to get ready for the day.

You ignore his words, continue collecting your things around the room, and put them into your bag.

"Are you trying to match your clothes with me?" He says, looking at your all-black outfit while sitting on the headrest of the sofa.

This morning, you woke up on the sofa still in your bathrobe and a blanket covered your body. The first thing you remember is you kissed him last night and somehow, it convinces you to keep going with the quest.

However, you still feel conflicted with what you do. You need to make sure of one thing.

"How about this handsome fucker?" Minho asks, pointing to the other person riding the elevator with you.

The man looks indeed handsome, he dressed so impeccably when it's only ten in the morning. He catches you looking and smiles at you.

You politely smile back and look away only to face Minho who's standing on the other corner of the elevator.

"He'll be losing his hair at the age of 32 and spends the next 29 years taking it out on his wife," he whispers even though no one can hear him but you.

The taxi ride to the hospital only takes fifteen minutes and you know where to go right away from the array of flower arrangements outside the separate building from the main hospital.

"Please tell me you're not doing what I'm thinking?" Minho asks in a concerned voice.

You wish to be able to shut him up for a few minutes until you can find what you're looking for. The hall is packed with people in black attire to what you can safely assume are the guests of the mourning family on the two funeral services being held by two different families.

You read the sign that leads to the Watson family yet pretend to be the one visiting the other family. Before you can sneak into their funeral service, you see someone taking the daughter outside.

"This is a bad idea!" Minho panickly says.

It's kind of alarming to hear because it's the first time he sounded genuinely concerned. You follow where the little girl is being taken and turns out, she's being taken to the park outside, probably to avoid her feeling overwhelmed.

"You're not a relative. People will get suspicious of you!" Minho nervously whispers.

You come over to the two men chatting and kindly ask for a cigarette even though you don't smoke. You stand at the other side of the door and take a drag of the smoke to be seen convincing.

"I know you're worried..." Minho sighs.

He stands next to you with his head hovering close to your ear. He takes a breath before talking, "She's not in mourning. She's not not mourning," he says as you both quietly watch the girl sitting on the bench and drinking a juice box.

"Happy that it's finished but sad that he's dead. But it has finished!" He emphasizes the last word.

You take another drag and accidentally do it excessively, sending you into a coughing fit.

"You spared her another five years of it. A lifetime of therapy," Minho explains, "a lifetime!"

You look at him to see if he meant what he said. He's a demon after all, the vision he forced you to see could be misleading, a trick to make you do what he says.

He looks back at you and smiles, "She's a mom at 29. A nan at 57," he shares.

See? He knows how to comfort you even though you don't ask for it. You give up on pretending to smoke and stab the cigarette butts onto the big ashtray. You shove your hands into the pocket of your jacket and start walking away to the parking lot.

"Why are you telling me this?" You curiously ask.

He nonchalantly shrugs as he walks next to you, "I just thought you'd like to know."

"Did you see that?" Minho shouts as he leisurely watches TV with his feet up on the couch.

You pretend not to hear him and continue sculpting, hitting the hammer harder, louder to drown out his voice. As if he read your mind, he appears behind you and places both of his hands on your shoulders.

"You should see this!" He insists, steering your body and making you watch the TV.

It's a broadcast of night news about climate change and he magically changes the channel to show news about nuclear testing.

"It's manifesting. Do you understand?"

Minho keeps switching the channel to show you every bad there is happening in the world, everything that shows the sign that the world is close to ending.

You lightly shrug him off and say, "We got this kind of news a few years ago but—"

Minho holds you by the shoulders and shakes you awake, "This is real. We don't have much time and you're the only one who can stop it!" He reminds you of the harsh truth.

Somehow that only makes you question why you have to be the one to bear such responsibility. Billions of people on earth and they chose you?

"I'm not ready yet. I'm—"

"Don't you want to see that little girl live her peaceful future?" Minho asks.

This is where you know he's being the demon he is, using your weakness to his advantage and making you give in to the temptation.

It's not so much a temptation when you have no other options, it's killing or being engulfed in flames on Friday. You muster up your courage and think of something to do.

The first killing was what Minho said it was: a beginner's luck, the man happened to be there and an abusive bastard, even in his grave, he shall not rest in peace.

This time, you plan to do it meticulously and without mistakes. You walk to the kitchen and pull open the drawer, taking out a knife you occasionally use to cut your sandwiches.

Minho shakes his head in disapproval of your choice of weapon, "You're not a knife person," he concludes.

You look at him, demanding an explanation behind that haste conclusion.

"It's messy. You could hurt yourself," he explains.

That sounds right. You put the knife back into the drawer and look around the studio to find potential killing weapons.

Minho leans into your side and whispers, "Let's choose something that is more you!"

You look at him and see that he's eyeing the table full of your sculpting tools.

You pick up the medium chisel and show it to him to seek his approval. You meet another disapproval as he strongly shakes his head.

"It's too specific. They'll know it's you. You're the only sculptor living in the area," he gives you an insight into how the devil's mind works.

You must admit that he just saved you from making a mistake. You pick another weapon that you're familiar with but also gives you the upper hand to do the killing. You pick up the hammer and turn around to show him.

A smile rises on his face as he nods in approval, "That's you! You're a basher!"

You bring the hammer close and observe it, it feels good around your hand since it's a tool that you work with most of your life.

"You've had the practice now. It'll be easier this time," Minho says with a sinister smile.

You want to believe his words so much but the nerves get to you. Your breathing becomes erratic once you realize what you're going to do with the hammer.

Minho puts his hand on the small of your back and holds you steady, "Liquor courage! That's what you need! Booze!" He suggests.

"I don't keep any alcohol in the studio," you meekly say.

Considering that sculpting involves a lot of sharp objects, it's wise to not keep anything that would dull your focus.

"Also, I just took an antidepressant an hour ago," you inform him.

"Oh, shit!" He curses and leans his body to the back, against the table.

Minho crosses his arms in front of him, then rubs his chin as he thinks of something. He then leers at you with a smirk dancing on his face, "Well, do you want a drink?"

There's a bar a few blocks away from your studio.

You got here in need of liquid courage and there's plenty of them here. You plan to only consume enough alcohol just to calm the nerves but not too much to lose your focus.

It gets you anxious to step into a new environment. You decide to go straight to order drinks.

"Whiskey, please?" You say to the bartender with a handlebar mustache.

Bartenders tend to remember the faces they have seen and yours must not have registered into his memory bank. He puts away the cloth he's holding.

"You want ice with it?" He asks.

"I'll have it dry," you answer since you came here for the alcohol, not for refreshment.

"Easy, love. We have work to do," Minho reminds as he props a hand against the countertop.

Knowing that one drink wouldn't be enough and you don't want to bother the bartender again for a drink, you decide to double.

"Make that two, please!" You hurriedly say before the bartender starts making your order.

"You don't have to get one for me," Minho grins at you.

The bartender takes another glass with him to finally fill them with your choice of potion.

"I didn't," you whisper back at him.

You immediately pay for it and bring your drinks with you to the empty spot in the corner of the bar, hidden behind the pool table.

You slowly sip your drink and feel it running through your system, stripping a layer of senses off of you, making you less aware of your surroundings.

"Okay, you see anyone tasty?" Minho asks as he sits next to you.

He cranes his neck looking for the next human sacrifice among the people who are enjoying their concoctions. His finger points to the guy with a beanie and drinking a pint of beer.

"Oh, that one perfect!" He exclaims.

He stacks his hands on top of the table and leans forward as he further speaks, "Burglaries. Mostly target the elderly. What do you reckon?" He turns to you for opinions.

The alcohol is not quite there yet so you take a longer sip. You feel the alcohol burns your throat and you wince from the bitter aftertaste.

"No?" He asks as he looks at you.

You know he's asking about the human sacrifice, not the alcohol but the answer is the same, "No."

Minho moves on. His eyes are pacing around the room to study people and check their backgrounds with his evil power.

He taps your shoulder as he finds his next candidate, "See that girl with the pints?"

You can easily spot the girl with curly hair, carrying two pints of beer in her hands.

Minho leans in close to your ear to give his intel, "She went on holiday when she was 12 years old and saw her sister drown in a swimming pool."

He suddenly lowers his voice as he tells you the rest of the story, "She could have pulled her out but she just stood there and watched."

Maybe it's true that people are the scariest.

They may look ordinary and good and all yet inside, lies this darkness that they buried deep inside them. If Minho hadn't told you, you would have taken her as a pretty girl with a nice smile and nothing more.

Minho pulls at the sleeve of your shirt and points to another guy, talking to his friend by the pool table. You're about to wave him off again until the guy turns his head and you know who it is.

"How about him? He likes to secretly film girls by drug them and once he—"

"Sent a girl into overdose," you finish his sentence.

Everyone knows who Tim Shaw other than a student in our faculty and more importantly, people know what he likes to do to innocent girls yet no one dares to make him take responsibility for what he did.

Until one night, he drugged a girl and left her on the cold floor of a club, unconscious. There's no evidence that he drugged her or it was he drugged, ended up with him getting dropped off of all charges.

You have one more drink to finish and you gulp it in one go, wanting to use this opportunity to get back for what he did to that poor, innocent girl.

Minho triumphantly smiles, knowing that you have set a target on Tim's head.

"I think we have a contender," he concludes.

Tim is exiting the bar and you take it as an advantage.

You don't need to lure him out, you wait a minute before you follow him outside to not seem conspicuous. Once you're outside, you look side to side to see where Tim is going.

"Perfect location. No witnesses," Minho answers as you both find him turning to the back of the bar.

Tim seems to hear your rushed footsteps and turns around to see you. He seems to be taken aback and you doubt that he'll recognize you. Being crazy has its advantages, you're off the asshole's radar.

You nervously laugh as he looks at you. You quickly think of something to say, "Oh, my God! It's really you, Tim!" You say with fake enthusiasm.

"I'm sorry but who..." he gets all defensive.

"I'm—" You don't know how to explain yourself other than 'the insane one from art school'.

"Oh, wait, you're that girl, the sculptor, the... uh," he brakes before he can say the infamous title of yours.

"The freaky one?" You playfully say.

He bursts into laughter and nods, "Hey, don't get me wrong. I like freaky," he says.

Minho points to the carts of empty bottles and gestures for you to use them instead of the hammer inside your bag that weighs your shoulder the longer you're carrying it.

"I was just getting a drink but it doesn't feel good drinking alone," you lie even though that's how you prefer to enjoy your poison.

"Yeah, I bet," he says with a grin that showcases his whitened teeth and malicious intent.

"How about drinking at my place?" He offers.

"Home turf. Even better," Minho comments, appearing behind you.

You don't want to seem desperate to be with Tim because honestly, you're just stalling to find the perfect opportunity to kill him. It's time to put what you learned from Kim into practice.

"I, uhm..." you rub the back of your neck and shyly smile at him, "I don't think that's..."

As you pretend to consider his offer, he's secretly checking you out. His eyes travel up and down your body, you bet he thinks of lewd things even though you're dressed like a bible salesman with the same outfit you wore to the funeral service.

He takes a step forward and smiles at you, "I live not far from here. You can easily crawl back here if you think I'm a bad drinking partner," he seduces.

Tim must have thought you were as gullible as the other. Oh, he has no idea the surprise you have for him!

"If you don't mind, yeah," you say with a low giggle.

"Okay," he says with a triumphant smile.

His house is indeed only two blocks away from the bar and he keeps boasting about how he owns a house from his inheritance and the rising price of property these days.

"Please, come in!" He lets you into his house.

You step on a crumpled beer can as you enter the living room and are horrified at the amount of trash littering the place.

"A few friends and I watched a football match last night," he concisely explains.

He takes off his jacket and hangs it on the coat rack, "How about we drink in my room?"

You uneasily glance at Minho and he nods. You look back at Tim then put on a fake smile for him, "Yes."

He leads the way up the stairs and you follow him, climbing the steps with the hammer getting heavier and heavier inside your bag.

Tim turns around and sees you being hesitant, "There's no need to be shy now," he says with a lopsided grin.

You respond with a smile, keeping your head tilted up, and continue climbing up the stairs.

"Now!" Minho orders.

"Hit him with the hammer now!" He says again so close to your ear.

Your head snaps in his direction and hisses through your gritted teeth, "Shut the fuck up!"

Tim catches you talking and looks over his shoulder, "What's that?"

"Can't wait to see the bedroom!" You lie and add a giggle to sound convincing.

He smirks at you before pushing the door to his bedroom, "Come on in!"

His room is less messy than his living room in which he helplessly tries to make it seem tidy by flattening the pile of his duvet.

"You can sit down here," he says, patting the space next to him on the bed.

"You're not really going to have sex with him, are you?" Minho asks as he quietly watches you from across the bed.

A deadly glare is enough to answer him and he immediately refrains from pressuring you.

"I was just checking," he adds.

It's when you're in his bedroom that you start to fear Tim, not when you know what he is capable of. But at the same time, it fuels your hate fire, it reminds you of the reason why you need to eliminate scum like him.

"You keep your alcohol in your room?" You ask.

It's obvious that he took you here for different intention. He's taking you here for the sole reason that is to ruin your life.

"Oh, yeah, the drinks," he smacks his lips together and awkwardly paces in the room.

He reaches for the portable speaker on top of his dresser and turns it on, "You can wait for the drinks while listening to music," he says.

You nod, "That sounds nice!"

He gets out of his bedroom and heads back downstairs. While he's doing what you believe is spiking your drink with substance, you think of a plan on how you're going to kill him.

First, you take the hammer out of your bag and practice your swing. You get panicked with each second passed and haven't found a way to catch him off guard.

The footsteps on the stairs signal you that he's on his way here. You decide to do the classic way by hiding in the back of the door, planning to strike him from behind.

You see his figure entering the room, carrying two glasses of drinks in his hands, "It's your lucky day because I found a bottle of—"

Without thinking, you swing your hammer hard and hit him right on the side of the head. It's a weak blow and you can see that from how he's staggering backward, still conscious.

There's no turning back now that you have done it. You come charging at him, attacking him while he's still disoriented from the first blow.

He collapses onto the bed and not giving him time to recover, you keep hitting his head with the hammer with blood splattering the bed and wall with every swing of the hammer going onto his head.

You whimper as blood gets on your face and see that Tim is lying cold on the bed, dead. However, you land another blow just to make sure you've done it and leave no room for mistakes.

"You're good, you're good," Minho says from across the room.

That's when you stop and take a step back. It feels like your soul has left your body, you suddenly feel drained and the hammer drops onto the floor.

You look at the mess you made, the bloody mess and dead body, your life that is once far from all of it. Your throat suddenly closes up and you find it hard to breathe.

After a moment, Minho gets to your side to say, "You can't have that lying around," he's eyeing the bloody hammer lying on the floor.

With your mouth gaping for air, you bend down to pick it up and shove it back into your bag.

"Cleans anything you touched," Minho instructed.

You take a handkerchief from inside your jacket and use it to wipe surfaces you probably made contact with even though you're sure there aren't any.

You leave the bedroom after wiping the handle of the door and make a turn to the stairs when you hear the front door creak open.

You peek from the top of the stairs and someone is turning the lights in the kitchen.

"Get out before he sees you," Minho whispers.

It's bad when he needs to whisper like that even though no one can hear or see him, but you. The adrenaline is still pumping and you make the most of it by bracing yourself to make a run down the stairs and to the front door that is only a few meters away.

You take a deep breath before quietly descending the stairs without making any noise. You can feel your heart beating in your ear yet you keep going as the door is only a reach away.

You successfully land on the base of the stairs when your bag accidentally hits a flower pot, sending it breaking into pieces on the floor.

"Tim?" The man calls.

He looks at you with confusion drawn on his face, "Who are you?"

It's too late for you to break into a run as he sees your face and officially makes him an eyewitness. You can't leave an eyewitness, at least, not until you've done all three human sacrifices.

Is it necessary to kill him though?

You can think and consider as much as you want but it all comes down to the one question: kill or end the world?

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sunasrintarhoe · 2 years ago

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sunasrintarhoe · 2 years ago

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Hi guys, i know y’all are probably waiting for me to update fanilty, but unfortunately i don’t think i’m gonna.

It was my first series that i started because i wanted to test my writing skills a bit and i was really surprised at the response i got. it was great but the longer it became, the more i noticed that my writing style was changing and i hated it. i became really insecure about my writing and when the fall semester hit, i decided that taking a break to focus on my degree would help me gain my confidence back.

that worked until i started writing chapter 8 and i hated it. it was cringey and poorly written and i couldn’t see myself posting it, but i also couldn’t rewrite it because i couldn’t think of any other way for the chapter to go.

i’m really sorry that things had to end this way, but for the sake of my love of writing, i decided that i am going to end it where it is. i may come back to it, I may not, but i figured that letting you guys know is better than nothing.

with that being said i’ve also decided to discontinue finding reason. i’m just not into stranger things the way I thought I was.

i may start a series of one shots for wednesday, but that is on the back burner. right now i’m focusing on compiling some fic recs for you guys to make up for some of the disappointment. So that may be up sometime next week.

Thank you for supporting me. I’m so sorry for disappointment I may have caused and I hope you can forgive me.

#elliot euphoria #euphoria #elliot x reader #stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader

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sunasrintarhoe · 3 years ago

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in my “in love with xavier thorpe” era

#xavier thorpe x reader

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sunasrintarhoe · 3 years ago

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hi, guys!! i’m not dead lol

i just wanted to hop on real quick and give an explanation for my absence.

i’m in my final year of college!! so that means i have a lot going on and there’s a whole bunch more pressure on me not to fail any of my classes. with that being said a lot of my attention is being put towards school. i have a lot of free time this weekend so i’m thinking about posting part 8 of fatnilty or part 4 of finding reason. both of which are already planned out. i didn’t expect be this busy, but my major is very specific and i have so little time to learn a lot. thank you for you patience and support, i appreciate it.

if i do decide to write this weekend, i will be writing the last three parts of fatnilty or three parts of finding reason (i haven’t decided how long that’s gonna be yet nor have i decided [redacted] ) i’m sorry for the radio silence!

also i’m debating on starting a recs list so lmk if y’all would want that!!

#elliot euphoria #euphoria #elliot x reader #stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson

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sunasrintarhoe · 3 years ago

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Hey, I'm sorry to bother you again but is the next part out or not? No need to rush I'm jsit wondering. Have a good day. :)

just updated!!

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sunasrintarhoe · 3 years ago

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For All the Nights I Lost to You p.t. 7

pairing: elliot x reader

warnings: talks about sex, infidelity, slut shaming

a/n: this is more of a filler chapter considering how short it is, but i wanted to get something out before school starts up again. i appreciate the support and love that you guys give this story, but please be mindful when you ask about updates. i am in my last year of college so i’m extra busy right now. i don’t mind kind questions about updates, but it makes me not want to update when people are rude. anyways i hope you enjoy this chapter!

word count: 1773 :((

Part 6 | Part 7

I don’t own this gif

“-and that is why he is one of the most prolific writers in history.” Everyone clapped for your classmate as she sat back down. Not you though.

You couldn’t stop thinking of Friday night.

The feeling of Elliot’s hands, rough and calloused from playing his guitar, gliding down your body. Goosebumps left in their wake. The taste of his lips against yours. The sound of his moans as he thrusted his hard, throbbing c-

“Y/N!” You flinched and focused your vision to see your teacher looking at you concerned. “Are you okay? I've been calling on you for the past three minutes.” You smiled sheepishly.

“I’m sorry… I’m just tired, I haven’t been sleeping well.” You weren’t lying. You hadn’t been sleeping well at home, but she didn’t need to know that your parents had been arguing in the kitchen every night for the past few days. The constant yelling and harsh words kept you up way past midnight.

Usually the arguments were about money. How your dad was spending too much money on you, how you needed a job because the amount of money you required was getting to be too much, how the grocery bill was too high because you ate too much. Then they’d move on to house work. How your dad never made you do chores, how your room was always dirty, how you refused to clean up after yourself. Then, if you were lucky, your mom would leave, slamming the door behind her as she paced off to her car.

But if not, they’d move onto the next topic… You.

She’d scream about how you were taking up too much space, but she’d also be upset about you never being home or talking to her. “She lives here for free and she’s ungrateful!” or “She’s probably fucking that boy or that girl or that dumb fucking-“ She’d call Jules a slur.

More than once you wanted to go down there and make her apologize. Especially when your dad would trudge back upstairs into his bedroom, only to sob as soon as the door closed. It hurt you to hear him cry. To know that this was only happening because you existed.

The bell rang, signaling the end of period. You got up with a soft sigh and made your way out of class. You could feel people staring as you walked to your locker. It made you uncomfortable because you had no idea why.

When you would ask Elliot, he would just shrug and say something flirty that would convince you to let him eat you out in the girls‘ bathroom.

You knew something was up, no one had ever paid attention to you, but now it was like you’re the center of attention.

Right before you made it to your locker and spotted Rue talking to Lexi. You needed answers and if Elliot wasn’t gonna tell you, she was going to. You grabbed her arm and pulled her towards an empty classroom. “Wha- Wait! Where are we going?”

“We need to talk.”

She didn’t question you further and let herself be pulled in to the room.

“What is going on?” You asked firmly. Rue tried to play stupid. “I don’t know what your talking about…” She said sheepishly, she knew you would believe her. You groaned, “Everyone is fucking staring at me for no reason and my own boyfriend won’t tell me why and I know he knows something.”

Rue sputtered, “Wait. Boyfriend? When did that happen?” You looked at her confused.

“I thought- hmm.” You frowned. He hadn’t asked you out or said anything about your relationship. “I thought it was implied when we had sex…” You said quietly. The more you thought about it, the worse it got.

“Y/N… Sex is sex. You even said so yourself, sex doesn’t equal love…” You froze, you did say that.

But you thought Elliot viewed you the same way you viewed him. You thought it meant something to him. “I… I did say that… Fuck… I’m so stupid…” You wanted to cry, but you just face palmed.

“You know what, that’s not what I wanted to talk about… Why is everyone staring at me? I know you know something.” You put your hand down. Rue froze this time.

“I… I can’t tell you…” She said slowly. “Elliot said that it would be better if we let it blow over before we tell you…”

“What?… Are you fucking serious?” You were confused. “People are staring at me like I’m some freak show and you don’t want to tell me why.”

Rue just sighed, “No one’s staring at you like that. It’s just drama. You wouldn’t even want to know about it.”

You groaned and turned around, “If you’re not gonna tell me, don’t talk to me at all.” You told her while walking to the door, you stopped right before touching the handle. “And tell Elliot that he can suck a fucking chode. I’m not letting him use me to get his rocks off anymore.”

You walked out the door, leaving Rue alone. “Fuck.”

“What?!” Elliot was- shocked? Angry? He didn’t really know. You thought he was using you? What the fuck?

“Yeah… She said, and I quote ‘tell Eliot that he can suck a fucking chode, I’m not letting him use me anymore.’ Which is honestly fucking ridiculous because wasn’t she doing the same thing to you?” Rue scoffed.

“Rue Rue, I’ve been initiating everything, She’s not using me…” Elliot face palmed and Rue looked at him wide eyed, mouth gaping. “Are you two are together? Like together together?”

Elliot furrowed his eyebrows, ”Yes…No… I don’t know. I honestly shouldn’t be all over her like I have been…” Rue wanted to scream. “Did you like ask her out?”

Elliot shook his head, “I thought it was implied… I didn’t think it was necessary. She never said anything, but now that I’m thinking about it she never said we were together either.” Rue groaned loudly, “It wasn’t! It’s never implied!”

Elliot groaned this time. “I guess… We’re not together. It was just sex…” He paused.

“I gotta talk to her.” “No, stop. She’s not ignoring you because of that… She wants to know why everyone is staring at her…” Rue grabbed his arm.

He sighed, “I can’t tell her yet. I have to fix it first.”

“You know Maddy will never believe you… She just sees you as that junkie that broke me and Jules up… You need to tell Y/N.”

“So this has to do with Maddy.”

Both Rue and Elliot jumped and turned around slowly. “How long have you been standing there?” Rue asked nervously and you gave her a fake smile. “Long enough. I was coming to apologize because I overreacted, but I heard you talking about me.”

“Fuck…” Elliot swore under his breath. “It’s nothing. Someone told Maddy that you and Nate were all over each other and theremayormaynotbeavideoofyouandNatealmostmakingoutgoingaroundtheschool…” Elliot blurted, he wasn’t intending to tell you, but looking at your upset face made him crack.

You gawked at him. You could feel tears well up in your eyes. “Is that why everyone keeps pointing at me and whispering? Because they think I was fucking Nate Jacobs?”

You hated the thought, Nate was a dick and quite frankly was sort of lacking in the department. Maybe you deserved it though. You were acting like a slut.

“This is just… great… I’m going to class…” You moved to walk away and Elliot reached out for you and you stopped. “Let’s walk together, I’m going that way anyways.”

You gave him a small smile. “Nah, I think it’s better if we stop walking together, don’t want people to get the wrong idea…” Elliot frowned, “What are you talking about?” You shrugged.

“We don’t want people to think we’re together right? I mean it was just sex.”

You didn’t wait for a response and walked away, leaving Elliot to watch you walk away.

“She heard me, didn’t she?” Rue stepped up beside him, ”She definitely heard you…”

“Fuck me.”

You were crying.

You didn’t know why you were crying. You said so yourself that sex can be meaningless, so why did it hurt so bad to hear him say that?

No matter how hard you tried, the tears wouldn’t stop. Your head was hurting, but your chest was hurting even worse.

You walked past your class and into the restroom to lock yourself in a stall.

Did it really not mean anything to him? Did he not want to be with you like you wanted to be with him?

You picked up your phone to call your dad.

The phone rang once before he picked up. “Hey sweetie, I’m just now headed into a meeting, what’s up?” Your dad answered cheerfully, but quickly switched his tone when he heard your shaky breaths and sniffling. “Y/N, what’s wrong?”

“I-I need you to come pick me up, dad, please…” You tried your best to keep yourself from crying. He sighed, “I can’t, I’m literally walking into a meeting, I’m so sorry, baby… Call your mom, I’m sure she’d be happy to do it.” This made you sob.

She hated you with a passion. She wouldn’t do it. “Dad, please, you know she hates me, she won’t do it.”

Your dad sighed again. “All you can do is try… If she doesn’t do it, I’ll go right after my meeting to pick you up, okay?” You shakily agreed and said your goodbyes before looking for your mom’s contact.

You felt almost scared to call her. What if she didn’t pick up? You had to try.

Pressing the call button and holding the phone to your ear felt like running a marathon.

The phone rang a couple of times before the call connected. You could hear heaving breathing on the other side. What the fuck?

You stayed quiet for a bit before hearing a loud moan and skin slapping. Holy shit, was she cheating on your dad?

You moved your phone from your ear and began screen recording the call. The noises were loud enough that you could still hear them even without the phone on speaker.

You felt like throwing up. In a way, your dad deserved it, he did the same to her… Your thoughts were cut off by another loud moan.

“Oh my god! You’re so big! Fuck, Nate!”

Your eyes widened. Nate? Nate Jacobs?

“Fuck, You’re so fucking tight.” He groaned. Yup that was definitely Nate Jacobs.

You hung up the phone and ended the recording. What the fuck were you gonna do?

#elliot euphoria #elliot x reader #jules vaughn #elliot fluff #euphoria #elliot x jules #elliot x rue #elliot x y/n #elliot x you #elliot imagine #rue bennet #rue x jules #nate jacobs #nate jacobs x reader #euphoria imagine

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sunasrintarhoe · 3 years ago

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When is part 7 of all the nights I've lost you out?

its in the works!!

i’m going back to college soon, so i haven’t had a lot of time to write. hopefully it’s out by sunday, but honestly, it’s a little unlikely.

i’ll try my best!

#elliot euphoria #euphoria

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sunasrintarhoe · 3 years ago

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Epilogue; In every lost soul, the bones of a miracle

The last, last part of the a/b/o Billy Hargrove fic! It's optional, and you can read it or you can ignore it. This was basically written bc I wanted to give the two a chance at a happy ending and bc the timeline + logic of it all is fucked anyway- So, domestic fluff between the two, as well as a hint to a crossover and a slight S4 fix-it- enjoy :)))

Thanking my beloved beta reader, @mysyerious for reading through and checking all the previous parts and pushing me to write the epilogue! ily babe <3

Tagging! @a-marie-a @greenlit-mess and @no-te-lo-voy-a-dar

Masterlist/ Prev Part

You woke up with a gasp, fumbling at your chest and arms- and you felt… nothing? You looked down at yourself, expecting to see blood and torn skin and clothes but-

You furrowed your eyebrows and gingerly poked at your chest. You glanced down at your shoulders, seeing the blue shawl nestled firmly on them. Not a hint of blood covering the soft fabric.

And now, the shawl seemed to… glow? What the fuck?

You were dead. Definitely dead. You would have thought the afterlife was more than whatever this golden place was.

This must be some pre-death hallucination, right?

You were dead. Fuck. You had taken Billy’s place- and you had died. The last thing you remember seeing was-

A soft, mournful sound left your lips involuntarily.

Billy’s face- covered in dust and cuts- hovering above you, begging you to open your eyes. Sandalwood scent, the one you had missed so much, engulfing your form. The Billy who had seen your last moments was the Billy you knew and loved- not the one that had called you a beta-

“Breathe, child. Breathe.”

A gentle voice. A familiar voice. You took in a deep breath. Your body shaking. Had you been hyperventilating? A choked sob tore past your lips. You were dead. And you- you left him there. Alone. But you couldn’t just have him die- Oh Billy-

A soft sigh. Warm arms wrapping around you. The scent of… nothing? There was no scent-

“You are safe, child.”

You- You knew this voice. You knew those hands.

“Mrs. Freyrdottir?” You asked, your words muffled, as your face was pressed firmly in the crook of her neck. “Are you dead too? Did the thing get you too?”

She pulled away from you, and you could see that she was wearing what seemed to be a golden dress like armour. Her blue eyes softly glowing in an ethereal way. The colour reminiscent of the glow of your shawl-

“Frigga?” you whispered out.

The pieces clicked together. You were dead- and Mrs. Freyrdottir was here- Mrs. Freyrdottir, whose name was the same as the Allmother’s- the queen of Asgard-

You gaped at the golden-haired woman- goddess sitting on a chair next to the bed you were in. She smiled serenely at you, her hands neatly folded on top of each other on her lap.

“Welcome to Asgard.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. You were well-versed in Norse mythology. And you knew for a fact that if you were in the Norse afterlife, you would have had to be in Valhalla, not Asgard-

“But I died in battle? And I thought mortals weren’t supposed to be in Asgard?”

“That was what was supposed to happen, to you dear child. You had come into contact with me, which should have been enough to place you in the glorious halls of Valhalla for you to fight another day. But-”

Frigga- Queen Frigga reached to pat your head. You blinked at her, confused. But?

“I convinced Odin to have you brought here. Not as a deity, but as something else.” She pulled her hand away from your head and waved her hand. You watched as the room dissolved into darkness- as stars and constellations you have never seen covered every inch of the place. To you, it seemed as though you were suddenly in the middle of space. “Ascending mortals into constellations is something the gods of Olympus prefer.”

What?

You looked at her dumbfounded. What the fuck? She gestured at a particular set of stars- glowing blue and bright. However, the constellation felt… incomplete. As though something was missing.

And somehow, you knew. Maybe it was the throbbing at your neck. Maybe it was something you hoped for-

“It’s Billy too, isn’t it?”

“Yes, dear child. The constellation will only be completed when William joins you here.”

You nodded. You truly hoped that Billy would get here- decades later maybe. After he got to make use of the chance you had given him. You hoped that he would build a pack for himself. Maybe get hitched to someone else-

Hell, you just wanted him to be happy.

~ ♥~

But it seemed as if fate didn’t want him to be happy. You watched as Billy went down a spiral- overtaken by grief. You watched as he thumbed through your half-finished album. You watched as he took daily trips to the quarry, each day, him getting closer and closer to the edge.

You tried. You tried to interfere. But there was a limit to what you could do- being newly… reborn, and lacking the magical abilities that Frigga had. You did get some nifty abilities but they weren’t much. The best you could do was- manipulate the wind so that it would mimic your fingers running through his hair. Press a ghost of a kiss onto his forehead when he whimpered in his sleep.

You heard him whisper- about how sometimes, he hated you. You weren’t hurt by his words. Because the expression gracing his face was too fond- too affectionate- and too fragile.

You saw him stand up to his dad. Protect Lucas and Max. Develop a half-truce with Harrington. And you watched.

You watched as he sat at his bed. You watched as he wrote the letters. And you watched as he placed yours atop your gravestone.

And you watched, tears rolling down your face- Queen Frigga holding your hands, as Billy tipped backwards and fell-

With Frigga’s help and guidance, you had reached your presence back to Earth- and had wrapped your scent around your beloved bonded-

To your utter grief, you would be seeing him much earlier than you had hoped.

~ ♥~

Billy was dreaming. He had fallen. He had imagined your scent surrounding him. Maybe it was some sort of pre-death hallucination. Or something he had imagined. And he had heard your voice- It’s going to be alright, Billy.

He was dreaming. He was sure of it. Because he was on a silken bed, and something warm was holding his hand. His hand, which was still covered in the soft fabric of the fingerless gloves he always wore.

And when he sat up and opened his eyes, he was sure of it. He was dreaming. Because you were there. You, with his courting gift to you glowing in an ethereal manner settled on your shoulders. You, whose eyes widened when they locked with his own. You, who were in a type of clothing he had never seen before.

Billy breathed out your name.

You smiled at him, teary and sad- and Billy felt his eyes flutter shut when he felt your fingers, as gentle and loving as when you were alive, cupped his cheek.

“Billy Hargrove-” you said, and Billy furrowed his eyebrows- because you never spoke in his dreams “-you absolute fucking idiot.”

His eyes snapped open, and a snarl twisted on his lips. He gripped onto your wrist.

“Me? I’m the idiot?” He loosened his grip slightly when he saw you glower at him. “I’m not the one to throw myself at a fucking monster-”

“You were going to-”

“Yeah, but that was my choice! I was prepared to die-” Billy saw the tears gather at the corner of your eyes. He let go of your wrist to wipe at your eyes with the pads of your thumb. “Babe- if I didn’t do that, the monster would have won- I deserved to die.”

Billy didn’t know what he was saying. He was rambling. This was the first time he was speaking to you- the first time since he possessed him. But was he even really speaking to you? Or was he in some sort of adrenaline induced hallucination?

“Billy.” You said, nuzzling into his hand. “Billy. You didn’t deserve to die, not like that-”

“And neither did you!” He hissed out. “But you did! And now I’m in some weird fucking hallucination where I’m talking to you to get over my guilt before I actually die-”

Before he could say anything further-

You were pulling him towards yourself, and you were pressing your lips to his-

Oh.

You- you felt the same. You still smelled the same- the same scent that brought him comfort when you were alive, the same scent that brought him grief later. And even through the saltiness of the tears- his or yours, he didn’t know- you still tasted the same.

You were climbing into the bed with him, your limbs cocooning around him- almost smothering him with your scent- your warmth- you.

“It’s okay, Billy.” You pressed your face into the crook of his neck, biting down at the tender flesh. He let out a sound at the sharp stinging sensation- “We’re okay. I’m not leaving you again.”

He wasn’t dreaming. This was all… real? But he was dead- You were dead-

Then again, he had been possessed by a creature, so he guessed stranger things have happened.

And at this point, he didn’t care about what had happened- what was going to happen- because he was with you now.

That was all he cared about.

~ ♥~

“This is still trippy as shit, babe.”

You snorted out a laugh as Billy moved his arms about in the Asgardian robe he was wearing.

It had been a couple of days since you and Billy were reunited. And the two of you had spent those days in the chambers Frigga had given you in her side of the palace, away from the… Asgardian politics and royalty.

The shocked expression on Billy’s face when he realised that Mrs. Freyrdottir- the one who he had jokingly flirted with- was a literal goddess- It was pretty funny seeing him tuck his head into the crook of your neck to hide away. But it hadn’t taken long for Frigga to coax him out and embrace him- and you had watched as she angrily whispered to him-

In those couple of days, you and Billy were inseparable- his hands on you at every moment, regardless of where you were or who was watching- He was there. And you honestly didn’t mind. His sandalwood scent, thick and heavy, was on you- covering you completely.

The servants in the palace, as well as those of seemingly more noble identities had looked at the two of you, him in his leather jacket, and you in your own clothes- clothes, which you chose to wear- with blatant distaste. But they had all flinched and backed off when Billy lowly growled at them, his teeth bare and eyes flickering golden.

You had learnt from Frigga that Asgardians, as well as most non-human species didn’t have secondary genders and that there would be gossip- that there would be disapproving looks-

Not that you or Billy cared.

In those days, you had told Billy about what had happened. How basically, the two of you had been hand-picked by Frigga to be brought to Asgard- How she had been fond of the way the you chose him and he, you. And that later, when both of you were ready, you were to go into the main throne room to meet the Allfather to become acknowledged as the keeper of the constellation you were assigned to.

Which was where you were headed to now, cladded in outfits more fit for Asgard.

“I know, Billy.” You moved to loop your arm with his. He pulled you flush towards himself as the two of you were walked by the guards. “But hey, after this, we can actually use superpowers or some shit like that.”

Billy rolled his eyes. And the two of you were stopped in front of a set of large golden doors.

This was- This was intimidating. It was one thing interacting with Frigga, whom you had met back in Hawkins, but it was another thing meeting Odin.

You reached to grasp at Billy’s hand, which was soft due to the fingerless gloves he wore, and you squeezed.

He gave you a sideway glance before giving you a smirk.

“Relax, babe.” He whispered, shifting so that his hand was more firmly grabbing yours. “We’ve died before. What’s the worst thing that could happen? He kill us?”

“Billy!” You whispered back, gently bumping into you. “Don’t say that-”

Before your beloved bonded could respond, the doors opened, and-

You squeezed his hand once more.

Into battle you went.

~ ♥~

“So, spirits of choice.” You said, and Billy relaxed into your gentle touch as you fiddled about with his hair. “I guess that fits us.”

Billy hummed noncommittedly as he tilted his head back so that the back of his head was nestled nicely on your lap. He blinked up at you, flinching back momentarily when you flicked his forehead.

“I was braiding your hair, Hargrove- you messed it up.”

“You can always do it again- It’s not like we have anything else to do-”

“We do, though, babe- we have to fill out paperwork for that prince-”

Billy groaned before turning his head to nuzzle at your thigh. You made a small surprised noise at his actions, but didn’t make a move to stop him.

Choice. Of course. Mrs. Freyrdottir- or uh- Queen Frigga probably knew about how you chose him first- at the Byers’ home, after his fight with Harrington. She probably knew how he chose you- to court you- to go against his dad’s ideology of alphas only belonging with omegas. And well, you chose to save him that night in Starcourt, and he chose to follow.

He nipped at the flesh of your thigh and your fingers carded through his hair, tugging gently.

“I don’t regret taking your place, Billy.”

Billy scoffed. And you gave a sharp tug of his hair in response.

“And I don’t regret following you.”

He glared up at you, and you matched him. But then, you were swooping down to press your lips onto his forehead. He closed his eyes and let your familiar scent- the same one he had thought he would never experience again-

“We’re here now.” You murmured, your lips hovering above his forehead. “And we have all the time in the world- literally.”

And Billy let himself hope once again.

~ ♥~

Your role as spirits- or personifications- of choice was fairly simple. You didn’t really have duties, except maybe having tea with Frigga or teaching the royal who is both prince and princess about the secondary genders of Midgard-

Loki, was her name when you and Billy first met her. Billy had bristled at the faint, yet noticeable scent of winter- of the freezing cold- and you had stiffened slightly too, but when he didn’t react to his own scent, you and Billy had shared a look- Asgardians didn’t have scents.

Loki had a scent that both Billy’s inner alpha and something instinctive inside you reacted to.

You decided to not pry.

You watched as Billy took a drag of his cigarette- which he had gotten into Asgard with a little help from the mischievous royal. His earring swaying slightly as his rolled his shoulders back.

He exhaled, a puff of smoke escaping his pretty lips. Then he raised an eyebrow at you, the lit cigarette in between his fingers. He gestured towards you, offering you it. But you shook your head, and he simply shrugged, focusing back on leaning against the balcony.

Billy looked good- sure, he looked as attractive as when both of you were in Hawkins, but he looked well. Golden curls shiny and smooth- blue eyes nearly sparkling. His demeanour less aggressive yet assertive as ever. You like to think it’s because Neil wasn’t here. And that this was who Billy was supposed to be, carefree and open-hearted.

You watched as he took in another drag of the cigarette, but before he could exhale-

You grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him towards you. Slotting your mouth against his, letting the smoke from his lips spill into your mouth and into your lungs-

When you pulled away, the smoke leaving your lips as you laughed at Billy’s dumbfounded expression, his hands were immediately at your waist, pulling your hips flush against his. His eyes flickered golden, and his tone dropped to a sultry one.

“Do you want me to fuck you here? Where people can see us?”

Oh, his inner alpha was out for play.

His inner alpha, which had taken complete control over Billy the night he woke up in Asgard, curling up around you protectively, muttering lowly about how badly he’d missed you. Snapping at your every attempt to leave- to get water or food- and forcing you into the makeshift nest he- an alpha, who shouldn’t make nests- made.

His inner alpha, which had crooned to you- how the scents of other omegas and alphas sickened him- and how he adored your scent- how he adored you-

His inner alpha, which had been the one to spill to you that the night you died- he had gone to your room and had seen the nest. Who had been the one to sob into the crook of your neck that he had laid in the small nest hidden in your closet- Who had been the one to mutter to you- half asleep- that betas could exhibit both omegan and alphan traits- and that he was sorry-

His inner alpha, which had apologised to you for not being the trustworthy alpha you thought he was- and that he didn’t deserve the nest you had made-

That night when the two of you had been reunited, you had promised yourself that you would try nesting again- because- maybe it was alright for you to do so?

You didn’t answer him. Instead, you opted to kiss him again, linking your wrists at the back of his neck.

Just when his tongue threatened to slip into your mouth-

You pushed yourself off of him, and bounded off, back toward the chambers the two of you were gifted, thanks to Frigga.

“Come and get me, alpha.”

And he was hot on your heels.

~ ♥~

You and Billy didn’t have much power in terms of abilities. Only subtle ones. Both of you could manipulate seawater, to an extent. Both of you could look into specific choices- the selfless ones- the ones deserving of compensation.

When that first happened, Billy had freaked out when he saw your irises and pupils completely disappear, your eyes turning an iridescent blue- the same colour of your shawl and his fingerless gloves. But you had been fine, and Billy had calmed himself down.

That ability- the ability to observe choices- was what led Billy here, looking at the dying body of one Eddie Munson, who had chosen to be a distraction. Playing ‘Master of Puppets’ by Metallica-

Munson may not have liked him, but they had come across a mutual understanding- They both had immaculate music taste.

He would have passed this- passed his death, because although this was a selfless choice, he couldn’t interfere with life and death. That was a rule for staying here-

But then- he saw one of Max’s friends holding back someone- Someone with a bond mark on their neck- and even without knowing their scent, he knew they were an omega- An omega about to lose their bonded. He could hear the desperate, pained screaming-

Maybe Billy was getting soft. Maybe it was because he knew what it was like, losing a bonded in such a brutal way. Maybe- you looked up at him, your eyes bleary with sleep, and he simply pressed his lips to your head- maybe it was because he had you now, but that he didn’t know if that omega would have the same blessing he did.

There was something he could do though.

Billy had been trying to save it for later but- every century, he and you could choose to go against the set timeline to bestow a ‘miracle’ (He had laughed when he heard that, because- him? and miracles?) two times. Once for each of you.

“Baby. Babe. Wake up.” He nudged at your side, and you blinked a couple of times before sitting up, alert. “Munson’s about to die.”

“What?” He watched as your eyes turned completely into the glowing blue. “Holy shit.”

“You know the miracle? I’m going to use one.”

“Why? I thought you didn’t really like him.”

He couldn’t tell you that Munson’s omega reminded him of himself- back when you had died. So, he instead opted to tell you a lie. He licked his lips.

“That fucker has good taste in music.”

~ ♥~

Eddie Munson was out of the Upside Down- nearly torn apart by those demo-bats- but he was- he was alive. Henderson and his bonded nearly smothering him with their combined scents as well as their warm bodies-

‘Don’t go somewhere your bonded can’t, Munson. Have fun, build memories and get the fuck out of that shithole.’

Eddie could swear that he heard Billy Hargrove’s voice as he laid there, preparing for death- saying his goodbyes- but… That couldn’t be, right? Hargrove was dead. But then again, it would have been pretty weird for Eddie to hallucinate the alpha’s voice-

But he couldn’t bring himself to linger on that- not when his lovely omega was in his arms, crying in relief.

He looked up at the dark skies, eyes fixating on the blue stars making up a constellation he had never seen before-

~ ♥~

You shuffled about the numerous pieces of clothing and pillows about, furrowing your eyebrows when nothing seemed right. Maybe it was the lack of familiarity? The lack of your blue lamp. The lack of you Earth clothes? The fact that the bed was not one you had spent time after time patching him up in?

God, you missed your possessions back on Earth.

But- you guessed that you would make new ones here. New clothes with his scent and yours. New trinkets and pillows with new memories-

But you still had the clothes the two of you had died in. His leather jacket, and the comfortable top you had on that night- and those two were the central part of the nest. With the garb from Asgard and cushions being scattered haphazardly around the bed.

Billy, your beloved bonded- your dear alpha- was currently out to have a tussle with Loki- with her offering to teach him how to properly use the magic woven between the threads.

You curled up in the centre of the nest, face buried into his leather jacket, tired from the constant visions of Hawkins as well as your overwhelming worry for Max.

You could sleep a bit, right? Billy would crawl in on his own.

And so, you let your eyes flutter shut.

When you stirred, Billy’s arm was wrapped tightly around your waist, his face buried into the back of your neck- and you were about to turn to him to speak to him but-

You felt his chest rumble at your back- a purr echoing through the room- a purr you had never heard this loud-

And you opted to stay silent, basking in his happy sound.

~ ♥~

“I can’t take it.” You said, dropping a book onto Billy’s lap. He looked up at you from his spot on the arm chair and raised an eyebrow at you. “We’re saving Max.”

“Alright.”

“Glad we’re in agreement then.”

You watched as Billy’s eyes were engulfed by an iridescent blue- the same blue covering his hands- and you watched as he grimaced.

“Yeah, Max- she’s not in the best condition- God, what was she thinking? Trying to fight him- A fucking idiot is what she is- At least her pack��s there to help-”

“It was her choice, Billy.” You said, pulling at his sleeve. “And she did see both of us die right in front of her. Maybe she blamed herself too.”

His face flashed with something more… vulnerable. Something slightly guilty- before disappearing into a slightly more neutral expression.

“That’s fucking stupid. It wasn’t her fault. Everything was my choice- and yours.”

“And this was her choice.” You repeated, pointedly staring at him. “And I think- her decision to become bait- deserves to be compensated. She gave everything to try and save Hawkins. She doesn’t deserve… this.”

“I wanted to keep her safe.” Billy muttered, and you plopped onto his lap, gently cradling his head. “But of course the little shit went around poking at things she shouldn’t- And I specifically asked Harrington to keep her safe too-”

~ ♥~

When Max woke up, she woke up to El’s hand in hers, and the scent of rosemary and lime alerting her to the fact that Lucas was here too-

How- How was she awake? From the look on both El’s face as well as Lucas’, both of them didn’t expect for her to wake up either. Her body was aching-

‘It’s a shame we didn’t get to spend more time together.’ A voice- and a faint scent familiar to her. ‘Live. Enjoy life- Hold onto the people you love. And- and none of this was your fault, Max.’

El was holding onto her hand, and Lucas was holding the other, both of them looking rather teary eyed- The album- the one she had smuggled into her room after Billy’s death- the one with your handwriting, the one filled with photos of you and him, and sometimes her-

She looked out the window, a sliver of the night sky visible through the curtains- and Max could see blue stars glittering, and she felt-

She felt that everything would get better.

~ ♥~

After a while of staying in Asgard, you and Billy had been given the all clear to go back to Earth. And you were thankful- Asgard was beautiful, yes, but- you missed home. You missed the familiar winds, the intermingling scents of other people- and you missed the atmosphere overall.

And mostly, you missed the clothes- the robes and half- medieval shit you were wearing were getting… boring.

That and you really liked seeing Billy in denim and leather.

So, with the blessing of the King and Queen, as well as both the brash farewell from Thor and the tentative one from Loki, you were gone.

And you were here, the Californian heat beating at your head. The sun, bright and hot and glorious, in your eyes. You were currently sitting on a beach towel, your toes wiggling under the soft sand.

A call of your name- You looked up to see Billy, golden locks slightly wet from the seawater, his entire torso exposed, with a surfing board in held under one arm. His fingerless gloves glittering and gleaming under the sun.

You grinned as you saw him walk over to you, chest puffed out pridefully, steps confident and with purpose. You preened at the way people would stare at him- because your bonded was pretty, and you knew that- and he had your mark on him-

You stood up from your place on the beach towel and skipped over to him, wrapping your arms around him to press a chaste kiss on his cheek. His skin was slightly salty from what you assumed was the sea.

“Baby.” You cooed out, cupping his face in between your hands. “You were amazing!”

You laughed at the cocky expression on his face, as well as the fact that you felt his hand snake around your waist-

You were around a decade or two late.

But the two of you were finally here now. To visit the sea he had spoken so much about. To visit the place you had promised to come together that night on the quarry.

It had taken the two of you a while, but you were finally here.

~ ♥~

Several decades later, Hell’s Kitchen, NYC

“Billy, babe- you sure this is the right place?”

Your bonded clicked his teeth as he pulled his visors down slightly so that you could see his blue eyes clearly.

“Baby, don’t you trust me?”

“In terms of addresses? No. I still remember the time when we got stuck going around the same place over and over-”

“That was the fae’s fault-”

“Excuses, Hargrove. Excuses.”

Billy rolled his eyes at you before popping his visors back on. He unwrapped a piece of gum and put it in his mouth, and then he offered you a stick. You took it.

You knocked on the door. Once. Twice.

“For fuck’s sake-” Billy started, only to be cut off by the door swinging open to reveal-

A brown-haired man- an omega, smelling of cinnamon- wearing a pair of red glasses stood in front of you, and you scanned his form. He seemed fit- and very bonded- as seen by a mark on each side of his neck.

“Come in. You must be the backup Loki had been talking about?”

You nodded.

“They nodded. And yeah.” Billy nudged you and pointed at the stick. Oh. “We probably are. Haven’t seen Loki in a while though.”

Before the man could continue, he was gently nudged aside by-

“Hargrove?”

You blinked several times. And beside you, you could feel Billy stiffen slightly. You immediately linked your fingers with his.

“Harrington?” Billy said, blinking at the older omega. His other hand reached up to remove his visors. And then- he laughed. “You’ve gotten old.”

Steve Harrington, with his eyes still as brown as several decades before, glanced at you and Billy- both of whom still looked the same as the day you’d died-

“And- And you haven’t.”

A small silence. Nostalgic, melancholic, and somehow companionable ensued.

“Could you all do this inside?” A gruff voice asked, and you glanced over behind Harrington to see another man, dark hair and dark eyes, with a scowl on his lips. You could smell the hint of lavender coming off of him. “Those monsters are still a fucking thing-”

“Watch your language, kid-” Harrington started, and you could tell from his expression that the words tumbled out of his lips before he could stop them.

“Watch it-” Billy said, pointing a finger at him-

You rolled your eyes affectionately at your bonded and tugged your shawl on your shoulders tighter around yourself. You gave Harrington a pointed look to move away so that you and Billy could walk in.

And he did so.

“What’s this about monsters? And what can Billy and I do to help?”

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