#also to be clear this is not directed at AUs that are meant to be unhealthy

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

the after party

fratboy!Jaehyun x f!reader

summary: Jaehyun realizes he's going to need to put some real work in to try to win you back. What, he didn't really think it would be easy to win you back, did he?

word count: 6.7k

warnings: profanity, angst, hurt, violence (a fight), drinking alcohol

a/n: THIS IS A PART 2! Read part 1, when the party's over, for context and catch up on more of my fratboy!Jae au!

dividers from strangergraphics <3

taglist! @chishiyapologist @hyunniebuns @cryingforjae @myfavoritedelusion @urlocalbeaner5 @ynzyy @seoksoop @ive-cool

Jung Jaehyun never thought he was stupid before this break up— could he even call it that? He always just figured he had one of those brains that wasn’t quite meant for academics and his strengths laid elsewhere. For a while he was able to convince himself that this was true. But then everything with you happened…

He’d gone and effectively ruined what could have possibly been the best, healthiest, most wonderful, most amazing relationship of his life just because he was a fucking idiot who didn’t know how to properly handle his feelings. Well, no, not an idiot for that reason alone, but more of an idiot because he said horrendous thing to you as a shit defense mechanism. He couldn’t chase after you, he couldn’t watch you leave, he couldn’t reach out, now, he could barely hear your name being said. He watched helplessly as the pictures of the two of you disappeared from your instagram, how one by one your friends all removed him from their following, how you blocked him, how soon enough he was like a ghost who had never even been a part of your life at all. A cautionary tale you’d one day share with your kids when you met the right man. He hated it. He hated it so much.

Every night he laid in bed, staring at his ceiling with a torturous pain in his chest that didn’t subside no matter how hard he cried, how loud he screamed into a pillow, no matter how much he drank, or how much he wrote about it. His actions, his words, the look of absolute pain and betrayal on your face haunted him unlike anything he’d ever experienced before. Every time he laid down to clear his mind, there were your tear filled eyes staring at him in horror as his own voice echoed in his head, “what the fuck makes you think you’re so special?” How could he have asked you that?! How could he have spoken to you like that?! You’re the most special girl on campus, in the country, in his life, on the face of this planet! He hates himself for saying that! 

Six weeks have passed of feeling like this. Six long weeks that pass by in a very numb, dull manner. Every day without you is bleak. He misses hearing you talk, he misses kissing you, he misses just being near you. It’s too much for him. Sometimes he’ll catch glimpses of you across campus and go running over to you, ready to fall to your feet and beg for your forgiveness, but one of your friends always sends him a glare that scares him to his core. It’s enough to keep him away from you.

It’s not just your friends that don’t let him forget. Haechan doesn’t make himself shy to drunkenly shout, “Jaehyun, I hate you!” It happens at every frat party Nu Chi hosts. It’s the only time Haechan even looks in Jaehyun’s direction since everything went down. It’s the only time he talks to him or yells at him or acknowledges him. Haechan has made it very obvious whose side he took in the breakup and it’s very obviously not Jaehyun. The other guys are at least more subtle with their disappointment and disapproval. They can pretend to have conversations with him in front of his face while also simultaneously talking about him behind his back. He’s caught Johnny and Taeyong doing that multiple times. 

After 6 weeks of feeling like shit, Jaehyun decides it’s time to at least try to talk to you seriously. Maybe he doesn’t go about it the best way, scratch that, he absolutely does not, but he’s ready to try. He doesn’t want to go home for Thanksgiving break and explain to his family that he fucked up the best relationship he ever had. He’s determined to get you back if it’s the last think he does. 

Jaehyun remembers your schedule for the semester and walks over to your dorm when he knows you’ll be home. In one hand he’s got a bundle of flowers, and in the other he’s got a box of your stuff that you’d left behind. Right, so… maybe returning your stuff wasn’t the best move, but maybe it would open the door to conversation somehow. At least, that’s what he was banking on. 

He knocks, his heart pounding in his chest as he hears shuffling behind the door. There’s quick stomping behind the door and then Ari opens it. He feels disappointment just flood his body, but he keeps his smile on his face. “Hey Ari, is she uh, is she here?” 

He can hear you whisper angrily, “tell him I’m not here!”

Ari recites robotically, “she’s not here.”

Jaehyun nods slowly, shame flooding his body. You don’t even want to see him. That stings like a damn smack to the face. He clears his throat, “well, I brought her things back. I brought her some flowers too. Could you… could you tell her that I’m really sorry? I know I fucked up, but I’d really just like her to know that I didn’t mean anything I said. I would never.”

He can hear you scoff, it sounds close, you must be standing on the other side of the door and he feels his heart pound in his chest. He’s never felt like this before, so nervous and anxious of what someone might think of him. Being around you has never made him feel anxious, yet here you are, 2 feet away and he feels like a kid with a crush all over again.

“Tell him he can fuck off and that I never want to see his stupid fucking face ever again,” comes your harsh whisper. A black garbage bag lands beside Ari’s leg, “and tell him to take his shit too.” Fuck… it was one thing to imagine the level of anger you held toward him, but to hear it hurt unlike anything else.

Ari grabs the bag and thrusts it toward Jaehyun, “she said this is for you.”

Jaehyun takes the bag, feeling a sense of desperation. You’re so close, he’s right here. All he wants to do is talk. He just wants to talk to you and apologize, that’s it. He wants you to know that he didn’t mean anything he said and he would always have a special place in his heart for you. Always. 

“Sweetheart, I— please,” Jaehyun tries. 

Ari’s face pulls into what he assumes to be is a somewhat sympathetic frown, jerking the garbage bag in his direction once more, “this is your stuff.”

The painful feeling in his chest returns. A tight, burning sensation that steals the breath from his lungs and brings a pressure to his eyes. He nods silently, setting the box beside Ari’s feet before taking the bag from her hands. Very weakly he manages to get out, “these are for her.”

Ari takes the flowers, sending Jaehyun a tiny smile before he makes his way down the hall like he has many times before. He hears your door open and he turns with a feeling of bright hope. You’re going to come to him. Everything is going to be ok. He’ll get to apologize, you’ll take him back, and everything will be fine. It’s not you though, it’s just your arm tossing the bouquet of flowers down the hall in his direction. 

His heart drops. 

But he’s not giving up yet.

The next time he tries to talk to you admittedly, isn’t his best work, but it was spur of the moment! He decides to wait outside one of the buildings where your class is being held after one of his lectures ended early. He’s not proud to admit that he’s been studying the schedule of your classes that you sent him before everything went down. Actually, he’s been religiously poring over every interaction the two of you shared. He’s rereading texts, listening to songs you shared, and staring at pictures. He knows that this isn’t a class that you share with any of your friends and on these you walk home alone. It’s the perfect opportunity for him to act.

Luckily, he’s better prepared this time. He’s been thinking about his apology to you on a regular basis. He thinks about it when he showers, when he eats, before bed, during chapter meetings, in class. Every chance he gets to think about what he’s going to say, he uses to practice his words over and over again. By now, he knows the exact words he wants to say, he knows what he wants to apologize for, and he knows without a shadow of a doubt that he wants you.

He sits on a bench just a couple yards away from your building, anxiously twiddling his thumbs and biting his bottom lip. He thinks he must look crazy. His hair is unkempt, bags under his eyes, and his knee is bouncing anxiously,.The class starts to pour out, but Jaehyun knows well enough that you won’t be one of the first ones out of the class. You like to stay behind to clear up any amount of confusion you had, even if it was just a word you thought you misheard. He finds himself wishing it was last semester all over again when the two of you had that child development class together. God, he’d do anything to go back and do it all over again, but better this time. He wouldn’t let you slip away if he could do it again.

He wipes his sweaty palms on the front of his jeans and stands. His heart starts to race in his chest when he sees you. You look beautiful, radiant even. The warm sun illuminates your hair, making you look like an angel right from heaven. You’re looking down at a piece of paper as you walk down the steps, right in his direction. He hates that he find himself thinking that you look even too pretty, too calm. It doesn’t look like you got your heartbroken just a month ago. You look normal, too normal while he looks like shit. 

He clears his throat and shakes that thought out of his head, exhaling to calm himself before he calls out, “Sweetheart, hey.”

Your head snaps up like someone just scared you. Your eyes are wide, spine straight, and whole body tensed. Jaehyun notices immediately that your body language tells him that you’re uncomfortable. It makes him feel sick.

Your eyes flick up to meet his but you immediately begin walking away from him. Not a word. Not more than a second of eye contact. Just walking away right away.

He starts following you, reaching out to lightly grasp your wrist, “Sweets I just want to talk. You don’t even have to respond-”

You wrench your arm from his touch and his breath catches in his throat. Your gaze is fiery and angry, but your voice is calm, “what the hell makes you think that I would allow you to speak to me again?” Your voice is angry, as is your gaze, but fuck, your eyes look so pretty. The beautiful, deep pools of what he’s discovered is his favorite color to have ever existed. His mind knows it, and his heart certainly knows it too. There’s still a connection between the two of you. Something just clicks when he looks you in the eye.

“I just want to apologize,” Jaehyun stutters, cheeks warm with embarrassment.

“And you can continue wanting to do so. Maybe I’ll let you wait and stew around for four months feeling like a total dumbass like you did to me,” you bite at him. 

“Sweetheart, I’m just sorry, alright?” Jaehyun tries again, feeling desperate. It feels like he’s trying to grasp at slippery grains of sand that just keep slipping through his fingers. Why is this so difficult?

“I am too.” You reply shortly, turning on your heel and walking away before he can say anything else. He knows you don’t mean that you’re sorry about what you said during the fight. He knows that your sorry means that you’re sorry you ever wasted your time with him.

His throat feels tight, his eyes burn with unshed tears as he watches you walk away. Nothing has ever hurt as badly as this does. He doesn’t care that past hook-ups could walk by and see him about to cry, he doesn’t care that he’ll look uncool. He cares that he feels helpless, that he won’t get you back. He feels like he fucked up so badly that you might never even look in his direction again. 

But still he refuses to give up until he can actually give you the apology you deserve. He just hates that the mere sight of you makes him clam up and forget everything he had planned to say.

After the last try he starts to go a little crazy. He’d never admit it to anyone, but he had created an extra Instagram account to watch your friend’s Instagram stories. He sees how you practically glow on the screen. You look so ethereal. Like a goddess straight from Mount Olympus. He spends countless nights tapping away through countless friends’ Instagram stories. He sees how they all rally around you with dinner parties, movie nights, partying, and clubbing. In every picture, he can only focus on your face. Your beautiful face smiling so brightly at the camera like nothing horrible has happened to you. Like some dumbass with a 2.0 GPA (barely hanging on by a thread) hasn’t broken your heart and likely made you wary of any romantic interactions to come in the future. Every picture of you, every version of your smiling face, obscured with a plastic cup, covered with a sheet mask, eyes looking elsewhere, is burned into the deep recesses of his mind. How could he have ever hurt someone so beautiful, inside and out?

It’s one of the reasons why he knows you’re at a fucking Alpha Sig party tonight… looking hot as hell in a cute little crop top and your tightest jeans. He sends a mental thank you to Ari for posting a short clip of you guys taking a shot together before you dance off the burning sensation in your throat. It’s the same reason he manages to convince a handful of his own Nu Chi brothers into going to the same party with some weak excuse of fraternity relations.

That’s how he finds himself here, pressed against the wall of the Alpa Sig frat house, hoodie over his head, dead sober as he watches you dance happily with your friends. You look so happy, so carefree, like a love interest right from one of the romance movies you’d made him watch what feels like 100 years ago. Nights where he grumbled about not wanting to watch a stupid romance movie but ended up more invested than you were.

He watched you like he was stuck in some kind of trance. The colored lights flashed and strobed across the crowd of gyrating bodies in what he assumed was the living room when they weren’t partying. He watched as your hips swayed, arms raised as you move to the bone-shaking beat of the house music. He watches as Kira joins you and Ari, watches as she pushes another plastic cup into your hand, he sees how your eyes clench shut at the taste, but you don’t stop drinking whatever you have in your cup. He can’t help the way his eyes track every enticing sway of your hips, how your crop top lifts just a few inches which makes his mouth water. You don’t look inhibited by any kind of break up or broken heart like he does. He looks like some kind of sick and tired ghost summoned to ruin the vibe of the party. Where he used to attract girls like flies to a pot of sweet honey, his frankly off-putting vibe radiates off him so that the only people that can stand to be around him are his brothers that he dragged here. None of them would have ever been found dead at an Alpha Sig party if it weren’t for Jaehyun, and he would have never been found here it it weren’t for you.

He drags his tired eyes away from Yuta and Johnny’s faces, back to you. You and… who the fuck is that touching you?! There’s a random guy pressed to your back with one hand on your hip and the other on your waist, rising slowly until his hand is completely concealed by the tiny t-shirt you wear. He can see the guy dip his head down, whispering something into your ear before his lips begin to press against the slope of your neck. 

Jaehyun is moving before he can even register what he’s feeling. He’s pushing through people until he has his hands on the neck of this asshole who had the guts to touch you. And then Jaehyun’s fist is hitting this guy’s jaw. Then, the punching doesn’t stop. Not when you start to scream and beg Jaehyun to stop. Not when Jaehyun has this guy on the floor beneath him. Not when the broken skin on his knuckles starts to sting. Not when the music stops. He can’t help it, he can’t stop himself. “She’s mine you fucking asshole! How dare you?!” He yells and it feels euphoric. It feels like the only way he can get out any fraction of the pain he’s been feeling for a month and a half now. 

Four hands haul Jaehyun off the douchebag. A panting douchebag who sits up and smiles smugly at Jaehyun before calling out, “you punch like a bitch!”

Johnny and Yuta grunt while they drag Jaehyun out of the house, where the cold air of the night feels like a splash of ice cold water against his face. A refreshing feeling that lasts for only a second before you’re storming down the stairs with tears streaming down your cheeks before you’re coming at him and roughly shoving his chest. He shouldn’t feel his heart skip a beat when your hands touch him, but he does. 

You shove him again, “who the fuck do you think you are?! Huh?”

“Sweetheart, he was touching all up on you. I wasn’t going to just stand and watch it happen,” he explains while he holds his hands up in mock defense.

Your tears don’t stop, your breathing quickens, “and what if I wanted him to touch me? What makes you the all knowing genius for what I want and don’t want? Why the fuck does that matter?!”

His breath catches in his throat and the harsh feel of your hands on his chest makes him take a faltering step back, “b-but that’s not you. You don’t… you don’t do stuff like that.” He knows you don’t. You made it very clear to him when you first met that his flirting wasn’t going to get him into your pants and even when he genuinely tried, it took him weeks to get you to see that he had real feelings for you. 

“Yeah?” You breathe out, using the back of your hand to wipe away your mascara-mixed tears, “how well did my normal work out for me with you? God forbid a girl just wants to have a good time.”

He feels his ears ring, eyes widen, had he hurt you so badly that you were just going to go around and do whatever with random men? Not even random men, a fucking Alpha Sig brother?! That’s lower than low. That’s even lower than the bar he had set in hell for you.

His voice sounds broken, “have a good time with me!”

You scoff, your face twisting into one of disgust, “you’re a piece of shit, Jung Jaehyun.”

You’re turning on your heel and practically running away from him before he can respond, but this time he doesn’t just let you walk away. He’s made that mistake twice before and only idiots let the same mistake happen three times. 

He’s moving after you quickly, desperately calling out, “I’m sorry!”

Johnny is in front of him before he can get too far, too close to you. His hand is gripping the back of Jaehyun’s hoodie, preventing him from running any further. “You have to let her go right now, dude,” Johnny tells him calmly.

Jaehyun sidesteps to get around his taller best friend but Johnny won’t let that slide. He anticipates every single one of Jaehyn’s moves. Jaehyn feels his breathing speed up, he’s clutching at the front of his hoodie like the fabric is suffocating him, “Johnny, please. I have to apologize.”

“She doesn't want to hear it right now. Nothing good would come of a conversation between the two of you right now,” Taeyong adds quietly.

Jaehyun’s eyes widen as he turns to face his friends surround him with a wild look in his eyes, “do you guys want me to be fucking miserable forever? I need her back!”

“You fucked up, Jaehyun! Do you know that?” Johnny yells, stepping forward to shove Jaehyun roughly until he’s stumbling back. A swift smack to the back of his head follows the harsh shove.

“I know that! You don’t think that I don’t think about that afternoon on a daily basis?!” Jaehyun screams back, while rubbing the back of his head.

Haechan steps in now, who knows where the hell this kid came from, “no! You need to sit here and really think about what the hell you’ve made her go through. You let her enter a relationship with you under the pretense that you would some day become her boyfriend. The second you heard that word you became some kind of mega asshole and broke her heart.” Jaehyun goes to argue, but Haechan stops him with a hand held up, “I’m not done, dumb fuck. This apology, this little search for forgiveness to make yourself feel better doesn’t happen on your time. It will happen when and if she’s ready. You don’t get to keep cornering her and constantly fucking reminding her of the pain you’ve put her through.”

The group around them is silent, everyone listening and waiting with bated breath to hear what their suddenly-super-wise younger brother will say next, “if you choose to pull some kind of stupid shit like this on one of my best friends again, I pray that some higher power has some mercy on you, because I won’t stop beating the shit out of you until I feel like it, and I have a lot of anger I need to take out on you.”

“I’ve been there for the handful of phone calls where she cried herself to sleep, the nights where she screamed and cursed your name, and the days when finally, she started feeling better and had the strength to haul herself out of bed after you broke her heart. So yeah, I have a lot of anger toward you so if that means I whale on you for more than a day, then it happens,” Haechan shrugs as if he just said the most casual thing on the planet, “so get your head out of your ass. Stop being selfish and leave her the fuck alone.”

The group that stands on the sidewalk outside the Alpha Sig house is still and quiet, probably more than they ever have been. The weight of Haechan’s words sit heavily in the air between all of them. They know it’s true, they know Haechan is right. It’s just that none of them have had the strength to say anything because Jaehyun has been so clearly distraught after the break up. Even Jaehyun knows he needed to hear it. Haechan is right… Jaehyun hasn’t even considered if you want to see him. He’s only been acting on what he feels.

Doyoung clears his throat, breaking the silence with, “I just thought I’d let you guys know that the Alpha Sig guys aren’t going to report Jaehyun. I convinced them not to make a complaint to the dean when I reminded them how often they’re brothers have been thrown out for preying on people at our parties. You’re just banned from any Alpha Sig events for a lifetime.”

Jaehyun nods numbly, letting out a weak, “thanks, bro.” Fuck, he hadn’t even considered that he could have gotten thrown out of school or even thrown in jail! He just fucking assaulted someone! He acted on his anger and his instincts the second he saw that asshole’s hands and lips on you. 

He breaks down then, he falls to his knees with his shoulders shaking and his head in his hands. Everything is such a fucking mess! He hasn’t made any progress with you. In fact, he’s probably pushed you even further away from him. He’s basically failing all his classes because the only thing that can stay in his mind is you. You and how he hurt you and how good he had it and good he could have been having it now if he just hadn’t been a goddamn idiot! And now he just beat up one of his peers and could have been sent to jail, because once again, he acted without thinking properly!

His hands feel numb, a strange tingling sensation that spreads all the way up his fingers and into his brain as he pushes his palms against his eyelids. His shoulders shake with the force of his crying, deep, pained sobs escape his throat. He knows he has no one to blame but himself. It just hurts so damn bad. 

He recognizes Johnny’s cologne and when he pries his swollen, tear-filled eyes open he looks up to see his best friend holding him. It’s comforting, like the hug of an actual older brother. An overwhelming stench of sweat, alcohol, and strong cologne engulfs Jaehyun next. A group hug. He let’s out a watery laugh.

Johnny squeezes his shoulder, shaking him lightly, “everything is gonna work out, bro. You just gotta give it some time. Thanksgiving break is just a few days away, and a week at home will give you some time to clear your head.”

Jaehyun wipes his eyes, “you think so?”

“We know so. Just be patient, be forgiving to yourself. Be patient and let yourself process your emotions,” Taeyong adds with a gentle smile.

It’s a week until the end of the semester when Jaehyun sees you again. Two weeks since he last saw you. 9 weeks since everything went to shit. 

It’s finals week and Jaehyun has decided to refocus himself and get his grades up so he doesn't flunk out of school. He finds that his breath still hitches but his steps don’t falter like they did before. His instincts scream at him to go up to you and try to apologize again, but he doesn’t. He won’t admit that he’s genuinely scared of Haechan’s threat to beat his ass… but he is. It also helps that he got some very sage advice from his parents when he got home and poured his heart out to them. 

He sits in a chair, with his back to you as he pulls his laptop open. A half done study guide fills his screen and he finds himself smiling. A study guide, the library, you. This is how it all began. He doesn’t think he believed in signs before, but this has to be one. 

Nothing happens that day, but he finds that he’s finally alright with that. 

It’s the last night before Jaehyun leaves for winter break when there’s a knock on the door of his room. He’s in his room packing his bags to head home for the holidays. Johnny knocks on his open bedroom door, “hey bro, there’s uh- there’s someone here to see you.”

“Me?” Jaehyun asks, looking up from the clothes he’s been haphazardly stuffing in his duffel bag.

From behind Johnny, you step out and Jaehyun’s heart skips a beat. Your eyes flicker up from the hardwood floor to meet his and there’s that familiar click of just… universal correctness. You clear your throat, hands nervously fiddling in front of your body, “hey.”

“Hey,” he breathes out, the cotton in his hands dropping onto the mess of his bag.

Johnny backs away slowly, leaving the two of you alone.

It’s strange having you here in his room again. It’s not a bad strange, it feels right, but he also knows that this room holds a lot of memories for the two of you, not all of them good. The room where everything happened. The room where everything ended.

“How are you?” You ask slowly.

Jaehyun nods, a little too eagerly, “good, I’m good. You?”

“Same,” you breathe out awkwardly. The room is tense. You shake your head, before exhaling quickly, “look, I came because I don’t want to start the new year on bad terms with anybody. I owe you an apology, Jaehyun. I’m sorry I drudged up my insecurities and basically slut-shamed you again. I know we fixed it one time, so we shouldn't have had to do it twice. I was insecure and hurt I should have thought about what I said before I spoke. Even though things between us didn’t work out, I didn’t want either of us, especially you, to go into the new year thinking that I was ashamed of what you decided to do with your own body and your own time before we were even together.”

Jaehyun nods, he’s stunned. He doesn’t think you have anything to apologize for. “Th-thanks,” he stammers out.

You nod to yourself, “well, that’s all I had to say. Have a good break, Jaehyun.”

Before you turn to leave, Jaehyun’s voice comes out quietly, “can I get my apology out too, please? I’ve been needing to do this for over two months. You don’t have to accept it, you can say no, but I need to do this.”

Your eyes are wide, your body language tells him you’re clearly stunned, and nervous. Despite that, you nod, “yeah, yeah that’s fine.”

He closes his eyes and lets out a long breath, giving himself a mental pep talk before his eyes are on you again. Comfort floods his system and he begins  his apology that he’s been practicing for weeks now. “You deserve better than what I gave you. No girl deserves to go through how I treated you and how I spoke to you.”

You nod silently and he continues, “it’s not an excuse but I owe you an explanation. It’s no secret that I haven’t been in a committed relationship in a long time. It’s something that I guess I’ve forgotten how to handle. I’ve never been with anyone that made me want to be in anything committed until you. I’d been feeling nervous and insecure for months, but I didn’t know how to say that to you. I didn’t know how to tell you, the most amazing girl I’ve ever met, that I was scared that I wasn’t good enough for you. I got into my head about it, the thought had been plaguing me for weeks and the day everything went to shit… I just gave up. I didn’t try to say exactly what I was feeling and I let old habits take over. I didn’t mean anything I said and I hate that I said all of that. When it was happening I just felt like I was watching myself act like a dick and I couldn’t stop myself.”

He pauses, taking a beat to calm himself down before he starts to get anxious again, “I should have chased after you. I should have told you that it was alright for your friend to come party with us, but I was scared. I meant it when I said I haven’t been a boyfriend in a long time. I’ve been acting like the total opposite for most of my college experience. I’m the guy that girls warn their friends not to get attached to. I didn’t want that to be how we ended up. I wanted to be better for you. I still do. I should have given you time to process what happened instead of cornering you and forcing you to listen to my groveling and I sure as hell shouldn’t have resorted to violence when you weren’t doing anything wrong. Actually, I shouldn’t have resorted to violence at all.”

“I really miss who I was with you. I miss the way you made me feel. You made me feel giddy and warm and loved in a way I have never felt. What I feel for you isn’t some kind of puppy love like I felt for Hana. It’s real and I’ll be kicking my ass for the rest of my life for not telling you how I really feel. I love you and that is so fucking scary for me to admit because it’s never felt this strong or this real. I’m not saying this to try to sway you in my direction. I won’t blame you for moving on or leaving right now, but I owed you this apology. I’ve owed you this apology for months now. I’ll completely understand if you don't forgive me, I don’t think I would,” his shoulders drop, feeling an immense weight off of his shoulders, “that’s it. I’ll let you on your way now, I’ve stolen enough of your time.”

“How do you know?” He hears you ask and it’s then that he really looks at you, not just the spot over your head so he didn’t lose his train of thought. You have tears lining your eyes, shining in the overcast light that streams in through his blinds. 

He fights his every instinct to drop at your feet and comfort you. His brows pinch softly, “how do I know what?”

“How do you know that you love me?” Comes your reply, voice thick with emotion and followed by a sniffle. 

“Because no one makes me feel the way you do. Whether it’s good or bad, it’s invigorating. You’re on my mind with everything I do. I put extra effort in everything I do because I want to be better for you. Because your laugh has become my favorite sound, the color of your eyes is my favorite color, your shampoo is my favorite scent. Because my bed has felt lonely without you in it and my heart has a you shaped hole in it. When I picture my future, it’s you by my side in every single scenario that I imagine. I imagine myself cheering you on at graduation. I imagine us in our own apartment someday and I even think about stupid shit like you and I someday studying together again. You make loving seem like something less anxiety inducing like I once thought and instead make it something I regret ever fighting. Being in love with you is so damn easy because you’re the most lovely, lovable, loving person on the face of the planet and I have been lucky to discover this feeling with you.” 

You cover your mouth with your hand to suppress a sob, moving across the small space between the two of you to hug Jaehyun tightly. Your tears soak his sweats and he just holds you, letting you let out your emotions while he rubs a warm hand up and down your back. With a shuddering breath you pull away from his hold to look him in the eye, his thumbs swipe away the tears under your eyes as his hands move up to gently cup your face. “I accept your apology, Jaehyun. I…” you stop yourself, your eyes clearly reflecting the whirlwind of emotions you’re feeling, “I was going to tell you that I loved you too that week when everything happened. For a week I convinced myself that I hated you but that couldn’t be further from the truth. I hated myself for still loving you even after everything you said. Love doesn’t go away easily.”

His heart soars. A life of pure joy escaping his lips as he fighting his arms around you and tuck his face into the crook of your neck, “holy shit, you mean it?”

He can feel you nod, “I do. I do mean it. But Jaehyun… I’m not going to give you a second chance if there’s any doubt in your mind about me or us. Be honest with me and tell me if you think there’s any chance that you think we won’t last.”

He meets your gaze, leaning in until his forehead meets your own. His voice is low but there’s not a shred of doubt in his voice, “I know I hurt you. I know I fucked up. I will regret it until the day I die, but I also know that I am yours, completely and utterly yours until you get tired of me. I will work every day, harder than the last to earn back your trust and not only tell you, but show you how much I love you and care for you.”

“I can’t do this again if we can’t commit to each other. I won’t put myself in that position again.”

“Sweetheart, I’m not going to put you in that position. I want you and you alone. Give me any title you want, boyfriend, husband, fiancé. If you want me to get down on one knee in the middle of the student union if you want me to. You could call me your son for all I care. I just don’t want you to have any sliver of doubt in your mind that I don’t want this, us, to work out. I want this for this long run. I want us to be like Noah and Ally in the old folks home and the only thing we remember is each other. I want you forever,” he tells you with a bright smile. 

You laugh and his heart skips a beat, “they die at the end Jae.”

“By the time we’re old, science will have discovered a way to get us to live forever and get us to work because every government are capitalistic machines. That’s beside the point— our love is going to last forever.” 

Your smile gentles, wariness still swims in the depths of your eyes, “you know, just because you confess that you love me and apologize doesn’t mean that you’re completely off the hook. Like I need you to understand that my trust has to be earned and you have to work for it.”

Jaehyun feels a wave of relief, “I absolutely understand you loud and clear. It’s clearer than crystal.”

“Don’t make me regret giving you a second chance,”  you whisper quietly, “please, don’t make me regret this, Jaehyun.”

“I promise. I swear. I swear on my own life, and if I let you down, then I’ll let Haechan go apeshit on me like he threatened,” Jaehyun’s thumbs gently rub at the fullness of your cheeks, “so please, will you please be mine officially? Will you be my girlfriend, please?”

“Yes. Yes, I will,” you smile up at him.

His lips are on yours in the blink of an eye. Jaehyun feels like he’s going to cry, hands gently clutching at the soft skin of your jaw as he kisses you with a tender passion. His lips move against your own in a way that just feels natural, like he was made to do it. It’s never felt like this with anyone else, he doesn’t need to try it with anyone else, because he knows this is what is right. 

He pulls back with his chest heaving, a smile on his face, “I think I owe you about a million more kisses to make up for lost time and to win your trust back.”

“We have time,” you reply with a sweet smile. Fuck, he’s missed seeing that smile up close.

“No, a million kisses today. I’ve already lost like 12 hours. Let’s stop talking.”

[fanfic-obsessed]

Knowing

I have just had the worst, or best, brainwave and I need to share it. 

Here is an AU for you.

Vader thinks that he killed his wife and child, right?

Right up until he meets little Leia Organa when she is 10 years old. Like his one brain cell woke the fuck up when he was confronted with a passionate, angry little girl with Padme’s eyes and his chin. This is maybe a month after she was kidnapped and returned to Alderaan. Leia decides that she would need to learn how to be a senator and insists that Bail takes her with him to the next session of the imperial senate.  

Bail does not want to bring her to the imperial senate. However he knows very well who her birth parents were, it is either Bail brings Leia to the Imperial Senate or Leia brings Leia to the Imperial Senate, probably bringing with her someone she really shouldn’t (Like actual Obi Wan Kenobi-I just want you to picture for a moment, because Bail certainly did, looking up and realizing that Leia is charging down the halls outside his office, dragging with her a bemused and sandy Obi Wan, both in badly conceived disguises).

Bail is super stressed as he tries to run a rebellion while riding herd on his well meaning but very direct 10 year old daughter on top of his normal duties as an imperial senator. Bail is also very afraid that the moment the Emperor sees Leia, he will make the connection between Leia and Padme Amidala (The emperor does not socialize with the senate any longer, thank the stars). He has no idea that Vader was once Anakin Skywalker, so has no cause to be more careful than normal (because Vader) about Vader seeing Leia. As such Bail does not even notice when Vader stops to consider them from the shadows. Leia is haranguing another planet’s senatorial aide who had chosen the wrong moment to make a bigoted joke. 

Vader is very abruptly, though mentally, thrown back to this very hallway 12 years earlier where he watched his wife do the same thing, for the same reason, possibly to this same aide. Though Leia is still a child and Padme was an adult, he can still see his wife in this little girl.

The realization that this is Padme’s child hits him with the force of a Ventanor. Followed immediately, before he even realized that this meant that his child was standing in front of him, by the soul deep knowledge that she must be protected from the Emperor at all costs. 

Vader had known for years that his suit had been designed to cause him more pain, he just thought he deserved it. The thought of Palpatine getting ahold of Padme’s daughter was abhorrent. Vader sticks to the shadows and watches, seeing how well Bail loved and protected Leia. 

While he is thinking(read Obsessing) about his daughter, the part of him that is always centered on Obi Wan points out that his old master had been one of the last people to see Padme after Vader choked her. But the little voice that spoke in Padme’s tones piped up, the shock of Leia living being enough to finally make this little voice loud enough to be heard, saying that until recently Obi Wan believed that Anakin Skywalker was all the way dead, he was protecting their child as best as he knew how. 

And Vader has issues with just about every choice Obi Wan Kenobi ever made. But he will admit that hiding Padme’s daughter was the best option. 

As Vader knows that paying too much attention to Leia would draw the Emperor’s attention, he would be willing to wait until the right moment to get his daughter back. His one concession to his need to protect her was taking one of his personal guard, one of the few units still made up almost entirely of clones, and assigning them to be Leia Organa’s bodyguard, her shadow (I also want you to take a moment to consider what that did for Bail’s stress level).  And then Vader gets to planning. 

With his one brain cell awake and focused on the Organa’s it takes Vader all of 15 minutes to realize that Bail Organa is running the Rebellion (I want it to be clear, this is not a slight on Bail at all, Anakin Skywalker was a war general, well educated through the Jedi on a number of subjects, and does have a fair measure of politics learning from both his former master and his dead wife).  However Vader is no more loyal to the Empire than Anakin was to the Republic.  In fact, upon realizing that Padme’s daughter had lived Vader firmly decided that he needed to find a way to kill Palpatine to crown Leia.  With the realization that Bail, and likely Leia (neither Vader nor Anakin have any idea what activities are appropriate for a 10 year old), are part of the Rebellion, Vader decides that The Rebellion would succeed (or everyone would die trying). 

Note: Vader only really gets away with no one realizing that he now supported the Rebellion because, well, no one can quite believe that Darth Vader supports the Rebellion. Most people think there is a new type of Space Madness, and that one of the symptoms is hallucinating Darth Vader giving you intel for the Rebellion.

By the time Leia was a teenager, rumors abound about the odd way that Vader acted around her. By sheer happenstance (and some judicial violence on Vader’s part) these rumors had never reached the Emperor. A good deal of these rumors implied that Vader was looking to the Princess of Alderaan as a wife.  The reaction Vader had, the only time it was brought up in front of him, was…impressive, even for the amount of violence he normally dealt out. Still there are members of Vader’s personal guard who watch over Leia whenever she is on Imperial Center, and no one wants to repeat the time when she was 12 when one of Bail enemies tried to kidnap her for ransom.  It took an entire corps of engineers to put those levels back to rights (after they scrubbed the blood off).  

So we get all the way up to the timeframe of ANH. The Death Star in this does not start out under the control of Darth Vader. It starts out under the control of Tarkin, it is important to note this. Leia still sends out R2D2 and C3P0 to find Obi Wan Kenobi, none of that part changes. 

It is after Leia is captured that Darth Vader shows up (does he lurk silently in any system that Leia is due to be in as often as he can get away with…why yes, yes he does). Tarkin had wanted Leia tortured, however no one wanted to find out how many decks Vader would spread their entrails across for touching her.  Vader arrives on the bridge just as Tarkin is threatening to blow up Alderaan. Tarkin orders the weapon to begin its charge. 

Leia, Leia who is so like her mother in that she will use every weapon in her arsenal, turns to Darth Vader and speaks to him for the first time. ‘Please’ she said, no effort to hide her distress, ‘please save my planet’

Something Leia had no cause to know-An angel who she resembled once thanked Anakin Skywalker for saving her planet. 

Tarkin is dead almost before she finishes speaking. Vader orders the DS weapons to power down and disengage, which is done post haste. Then announces that Leia Organa was now in control. 

So Leia now owns a Death Star (genuine article-never used). Leia is not sure if that is how this works, but no one is arguing with the tall man in black who has OPINIONS and will enforce them.  Leia manages to communicate this to her parents, who take a shuttle up to the space station to figure out what the fuck is going on, and what, if anything, they need to do next.

Two hours later: Obi Wan Kenobi, Luke Skywalker, Han Solo, R2D2, C3P0, and Chewbacca have just been caught trying to sneak onto the Death Star. The Organas are still on board, trying to get answers (In that time Vader has said precisely five words to them ‘You have raised her well’).  It is to this room that the troopers manning the station (who are deeply confused and a bit conflicted because it seems like they may have all been forcibly defected from the Empire, but no one is willing to disobey Lord Vader) bring Obi Wan and co. and present them to Leia, as she is considered in command.  Somehow Luke’s full name (I kind of picture him still dumbly introducing himself to Leia, followed with ‘we’re here to rescue you’) gets used before the situation deteriorates. Which naturally causes everything to deteriorate further and faster than before.  

Far away on Imperial Center, the Emperor pauses in the middle of a hallway ‘I feel’ he says to no one ‘a disturbance in the Force.’ another pause ‘like some shit has just hit the fan’

Far away on Dagobah Yoda looks up, ‘weird, shit just got’

[inkedells]

look at me a little more | dbf!joel miller x f!reader

A/N: first of all, SMUTTT so much smut up ahead. holy crap this is the longest thing i've ever written (pathetic, i know, blame the commitment issues) enjoy lovies!! also lmk if you want a part 2 maybe possibly!?

m!dni | requests open.

summary: dbf!neighbor!joel accidentally drenches you (virgin!reader) while washing his car and you can’t help but notice the way he eyes you up. it’s only once he’s in your bedroom, fixing your closet door as an apology, that you realize the best person to rid you of your virginity and teach you precisely how to please yourself and others had been right in front of you the whole time; it's getting joel on board with the whole idea that's the hard part.

word count: 5.5k

tags/warnings: SMUTTTT, virgin!reader, dbf!neighbor!joel faces moral conflicts (to fuck or not to fuck!?!?), porn with plot, sooo much tension, dirty talk, use of pet names, blowjobs, handjobs, cumplay, reader eats joel's cum, grinding, making out, oral sex, no!outbreak au, reader's innocent in the sense that she doesn't really know how to do a lot of things when it comes to sex but still has a ton of desires

masterlist

There was a certain shame that came with being infatuated with your dad’s best friend.

You were sitting around on the porch on a hot summer afternoon, wearing your shortest cotton shorts as you sipped the juice box brand you had loved since you were a little girl. Legs crossed, foot tapping the air, and most importantly, eyes absolutely trained on the ripple of Joel Miller’s biceps as he washed his car.

You didn’t know why you liked to stare at him so much. But you did know it was wrong. Immoral. Eyeing up someone in their forties? What was wrong with you? That was your dad’s best f—

“Hey, Mr. Miller!” You called over, shutting down every ounce of doubt in your mind.

He turned around without hesitation, and when he did, you waved. The first time you’d done that, he had to work a little harder to figure out the source of the voice, eyes searching in random directions before finally settling on you. But now, it was like he knew exactly where to look—And, well, that was all it took for you to decide you would be spending the next hour washing a car if it meant spending time with Joel.

So you settled your juice box down on the wooden floor of the porch and skipped over to his house. He must not have heard your footsteps behind him over the sound of the hose, so your simple tap on his shoulder resulted in him whipping around, hose in hand, as he consequently drenched you.

You yelped, breaking out into nervous laughter both from shock and how cold the water was. Joel fumbled to turn off the hose as he began profusely apologizing. “Jesus Christ, I’m so sorry—”

Then he properly saw you. From Joel’s perspective, your clothes were reduced to translucency, practically melting into your skin.

But you didn’t know that. You never fully grasped just how vulnerable you had become from his accident, so when you caught him averting his gaze as quickly as he could, you were a little confused.

“You—Uh—I,” Joel stumbled before clearing his throat, “There’s clothes. Inside. Sarah’s. You can, um, you can go and… y’know. Change into them. Walkin’ all the way back to your house doesn’t seem like a… viable… option.”

By then, a blush had already risen to your cheeks just from how delicately Joel was treating you. As if you were something he had to be careful with, like if he didn’t think long and hard about every word coming out of his mouth, there would be consequences. 

“Lead the way.”

Joel gave you a firm smile before swallowing the lump in his throat and motioning for you to follow him as he walked. Once he had the front door open, he let you go in first. Even as you carefully walked past him, you could feel his eyes staring at you.

“Up there,” Joel gestured, “Um, first door on the left. I’ll… be outside.”

As he explained, you subconsciously scanned over the planes of his body—probably a habit you picked up from the multiple weeks of watching him work. But then he was turning to leave, and you could tell he was still really tense. You didn’t know why a simple accident had him so tripped up, but you had the urge to alleviate his worry.

“Hey,” You called, arms wrapped around yourself in an effort to stave off the cold. He turned around, concerned until he saw your soft smile and relaxed a little, “On a scale of one to ten, how sick and tired are you of washing that truck?”

There was only one way to break Joel out of his nervous state; you had to make the situation lighthearted; you learned that from years of watching him hang out with your dad.

He searched your eyes for a beat, eyes completely unwavering, before muttering, “Like a fifty.”

You both breathed a laugh at that. For the briefest moment, you thought you noticed Joel’s gaze flitting to your chest. Your breath caught in your throat, but before you could do a double take, his eyes were glued to yours again.

“So then,” You started, regathering yourself and pushing away whatever your brain was conjuring up, “How do you feel about replacing one lousy chore with another?”

“What kinda chore we talkin’?”

“Well, my closet door’s all screwed up. And you know, instead of apologizing for soaking me by way of expensive concert tickets and a brand new car, like how I know you were planning on doing—”

“—Oh, of course,” Joel sarcastically remarked, playing along as you quickly noticed the worry on his face faded into a crooked grin.

“Well, I really think I can just settle for the closet door fix. Go ahead and save the brand new car for when you break my toaster.”

“Okay, okay,” Joel laughed, “I get it. Go change, then you can lead me to this broken closet door.”

-

Sarah’s clothes definitely belonged to a fourteen-year-old. Not your taste, but then again, if you were fourteen like her, you probably would’ve dressed like that too.

You couldn’t settle on a top, all of them were either too small or bore a graphic design too childish for you. You did find a pair of stretchier shorts that fit alright though, so you decided you’d just pick up one of Joel’s shirts from the pile of clean laundry you saw sitting atop the washing machine downstairs.

When you made it out the front door, the hose was away and his toolbox was resting on the ground by his feet. Joel was drying up his car with a cloth, and when he heard you hop down the steps and subsequently turned your way, you weren’t exactly expecting him to completely stumble at the sight of you in his shirt.

“Oh—You, uh, I thought you were gettin’ Sarah’s clothes?”

“I was, none of her tops fit so I grabbed one of yours from the laundry downstairs.” You absorbed Joel’s cryptic reaction and began to worry. “I’m sorry, Mr. Miller, I really should’ve asked—”

“—No, no, it’s fine. Really. Doesn't matter.”

Joel picked up his toolbox, then the both of you began walking over to your house. It wasn’t that far away at all, probably a couple of hundred feet at most, but he opted into small talk anyway.

“Um,” Joel began, “What’d you come over for in the first place? Didn’t really get a chance to ask ‘cause of this whole… debacle.”

You giggled at his old man vocabulary. Debacle.

“I wanted to help with your car, but looks like those plans got derailed.”

He breathed a polite laugh. “Yeah, well. Guess it turned out that way.”

Before an awkward silence could fall upon the both of you, your brain settled on something to bring up.

“Hey, my dad’s having that July 4th barbecue the day after tomorrow. You’re coming right?”

“Wouldn’t miss it, honey.”

Honey? Honey. Honey honey honey honey—

He cleared his throat. “Where is your dad, anyway?”

You were both standing on your porch now, Joel’s eyes raking you over as you fumbled with the front door.

“Um, I think he’s out working.”

“Great.”

Great?

Before you could ask him what he meant, Joel realized what he had said. “Wait, no, not great. I don’t—I don’t know why I said that. Sorry. I’m sorry.”

You pushed the door open. “Hey,” You brought a hand up to his chest and patted it, “You’ll give yourself a heart attack if you keep assuming all your mistakes are colossal and worthy of that much panic.”

His shoulders seemed to relax a little at that—you weren’t sure if it was your hand or your words that did it.

Eventually, you both found yourselves in your bedroom. You were sitting on the edge of your bed as you watched Joel work. Kneeling on one knee with a screwdriver in hand, he fumbled with one of the closet door’s hinges as he muttered little things to himself under his breath.

“Thanks for this, Mr. Miller.”

He turned to you, nodding as he seemed to process that he was in your bedroom. Your bedroom.

“So,” Joel began, as he dug through his toolbox, “Is your boyfriend visiting too? Or, y’know, girlfriend. Three months is a long ti—”

You softly smiled. “I don’t have a boyfriend. Or a girlfriend.”

He turned to look at you again as he turned a screwdriver, this time scanning you over. “Hm, I don’t believe you. Sweet thing like you? Single?”

“Oh, stop,” You blushed, shooing him off.

Joel stood to his feet, dusting his hands off on his thighs. “All fixed. Next time you ne—”

“—I’ve never been in a relationship before. Actually.”

Joel stared at you for a moment before diverting his gaze to the ground. “I, um…”

“Sorry. I’m sorry. I don’t know why I said that. You don’t wanna know about my completely nonexistent dating history,” You lightly smacked your forehead, “Wait, it’s existent if we count the boy I dated for a week in fourth grade.”

Joel laughed, sitting down next to you on your bed. “It’s okay. I haven’t really dated anybody since Sarah’s mom, either. Long-term, anyways.”

“Yeah, well at least you’re not a virgin.”

Joel seemed to tense at that, and you immediately regretted saying it.

“Oh gosh,” You cringed, hands gripping your head, “I really just say anything, don’t I?”

Joel chuckled, head hung between his shoulders with his eyes squinted shut. You eventually laughed, too, simply because—and you realized it sounded stupid—Joel’s laughter was contagious.

“Alright, alright,” Joel beckoned, “Lemme be serious for a second. C’mere.”

You slumped down next to him, staring up at the ceiling before turning to make eye contact.

“That’s not something you have to worry about. You got time, honey, you’re in college. All that crap about late blooming isn’t real. It’s about whenever you’re ready, and whenever you find the right person to do it with.”

You smiled up at him softly. “Thanks, Mr. Miller.”

“Joel. Just Joel.”

You couldn’t bring yourself to look away from him. So you stayed like that, searching his eyes for something you didn’t have the courage to say out loud.

“Joel,” You echoed, repeating his name back to him, bottom lip caught between your teeth.

“I, uh…” Joel trailed off, his gaze flitting down to your lips. “I…” He tried again, but it went nowhere.

You exhaled, and almost immediately, his hands cupped your face as he leaned forward and pressed a soft, fleeting kiss to your lips.

It was warm, and gentle, and amazing, and you didn’t know if you could ever let him stop kissing you with how delightful the scruff of his beard felt against your skin.

He did break the kiss after a few seconds, though, and it left you breathless. “Joel…”

His muscles seemed to visibly tense as he mistook your speechless state for confusion. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I don’t know why—”

“—No. No, I liked it,” You smiled softly at him, “I, um, you know. Wouldn’t mind if you kissed me… again.”

With reassurance that you weren’t absolutely appalled, his limbs relaxed. He leaned forward again until he was kissing you. Slow at first, languid. But then it turned fervent and desperate, breaths being exchanged into one another's mouths as lips slotted together like fingers intertwined—so perfect, as if they were biologically designed to do so.

It wasn’t long until he had your back flat against your bed, and you felt his growing hardness dig into your hip.

“Y’know what that is, don’t you?”

You nodded hesitantly.

“You know why it’s there?”

You shrugged.

He gripped the fabric of your—no, his—shirt as his voice rumbled, “You prancin’ around in my shirt did that.”

Without a second thought, you clumsily palmed him there through the thick fabric of his jeans and reveled in the consequential shuddering moan he let out

“Joel, I don’t… I don’t think I know what I’m doing.”

“That’s okay, honey, I’ll teach you.”

Propping himself up with his elbow, he placed his hand atop your own and guided the movements of your open palm. Things like pressing your hand further into him so as to increase the pressure between his legs, and encouraging back-and-forth motions that had his hips rutting and his breath hitching.

Once you got the hang of it, he removed his hand from your own. You felt his hand snake down your neck, then the side of your torso. 

“I trust you,” You whispered, fingers playing with the happy trail peaking Joel’s pants, hoping to absolve him of any guilt or doubt.

But the second Joel’s fingertips grazed the waistband of your shorts, he froze. He was staring off somewhere to the right, so you followed his gaze until you found what he was so disturbed by.

A framed photo on your nightstand, one of you standing next to your dad on vacation in Maui.

You understood immediately; that picture was an astute reminder of exactly who’s daughter Joel was about to debauch.

Your hand fell away from his crotch as he leaned back on his haunches and ran his hands through his hair with worried eyes.

“Joel?” You whispered, but then he was completely backing off of you as he muttered curses under his breath. “Hey, no, come back. What’s wrong?”

It was a dumb question. You knew what was wrong. Even though you were well beyond legal, it seemed to mean little in the situation—the facts were, if he touched you, it was betrayal.

“This is…” Joel panted, standing to his feet and raking his hands through his hair, “I shouldn’t have… Fuck. Fuck. I have to go.”

And just like that, he was gone.

-

That night, your lights stayed on and you didn’t close your curtains.

You stripped yourself of Joel’s shirt first, going excruciatingly slow in case Joel happened to be watching through his neighboring window. You occasionally shot glances at his window on the off chance that the window illuminated, but you quickly realized if the two of you made eye contact that wouldn’t be good either. You’d gotten all the way down to your underwear before you spotted his light flick on from the corner of your eye.

So you did the first thing that came to mind; You turned your back to your window. Panties halfway down your legs, torso bent with your knees straightened as you slowly shed your clothing. Hoping. Hoping for him to avert his attention ever so slightly and accidentally catch you like this. Hoping he would think of it every time he talked to you.

Without ever making eye contact, you would never know if Joel actually saw anything, and he would never know you hadn’t actually “forgotten” to close your curtains.

No pressure on either of you.

You went to sleep with a hand shoved down the front of your panties as you thought of all the things you wanted Joel to do to you.

-

Ring. Ring. Ring.

Jesus. What time was it? You stretched until sleep left you and opened your eyes as wide as you could (not very wide at all). From what you could gather, the sun was definitely up. You, however, did not have the willpower required to read off of your phone screen 5 seconds after waking up, so you answered the phone without reading the contact.

“Hello?” You groaned, voice gruff from sleep.

“Oh, I’m sorry, did I wake you?”

You knew that voice anywhere. Almost immediately, you shot upright and cleared your throat as you rubbed your eyes. “Oh, hey Mr. Mill—uh, I mean, Joel,” You breathed a nervous laugh before remembering his question, “No. No, it’s okay I was like, basically awake already, um, so… what’s up? Why’d you—Why’d you call?”

“Right, so just to preface, I understand things are not... ideal... between us right now. But to be honest, you’re the only person available who I trust with this, and… let me just explain. I got called into work unexpectedly and Sarah’s gonna be home alone. Lately, she’s been getting into these rebellious fits, and I just don’t want to risk another situation where she sneaks out at night to meet up with her boyfriend again.”

“Sarah and rebellious fits? Really?”

“Yes, believe it or not. So do you think you could just hang around my place for, to be honest, a long while? It’s looking like I’m gonna be home really late tonight. Oh, and I can pay you.”

“Oh, shut up, you’re not paying me.”

Joel exhaled appreciatively through the phone. “Okay, well I’m home right now if you wanna come by and eat some breakfast. Least I could do. I gotta leave in like thirty minutes by the way, so. Take your time but also don’t take your time?”

You smiled, hoping he could hear it in your voice. “Yeah, I’ll be there soon.”

“Thanks, honey.”

Oh god. There it was again. You thought you might actually pass out, but you quickly turned off your racing brain enough to mutter a small “mhm” before abruptly hanging up.

Okay. Joel Miller. Your dad’s best friend, who was this close to absolving you of every ounce of innocence in your body… just asked you to watch his daughter. What could go wrong?

When you got to his house, he had left already (you definitely took too long in the shower). He did leave out a plate of food, though, along with the message, “Thanks again. Enjoy the pancakes,” scratched out on a post-it note.

And boy did it turn out to be a long day. Sarah wasn’t that much of a handful, she mostly took care of herself. The hard part was lunch.

You attempted to cook something for the two of you, but it only ended in disaster when you left the quiches in the oven for too long. Then you decided Penne a la Vodka couldn’t be that hard, and you couldn't be more wrong. A whole box of pasta was ruined because Sarah didn’t realize the pasta went in after the water boiled, not before. Eventually, you both just accepted defeat and ordered Panera Bread.

Later, Sarah popped into the living room to let you know she was going up to her room to take a nap, and you figured you’d do the same on the couch.

The last thing you read was the time on the cable box; 7:37.

-

Metal clanking. The turn of a key. The creaking of a door. The blaring siren of an alarm system.

“Jesus—Fuck. I thought I told her to turn off the alarm at 8.”

And Joel’s voice.

You jolted awake, blinking wide as you moved to sit upright on the couch. The time on the cable box was 11:50.

Soon, the alarm stopped, and not long after, Joel’s figure came into view. He was wearing a denim button-up with work pants and work boots.

“Hey,” Joel called, setting his things down next to the kitchen island.

“Hi,” You replied, “How was work?”

Joel gave you a polite smile before pulling open the refrigerator door to retrieve a beer. With his head still poked inside the fridge, he replied, “The usual.”

“Well, what was the usual li—”

“—Were you asleep?”

“Uh…" You cleared your throat in an effort to stall as you debated whether or not you would lie. "Yeah, I was. Sorry.”

Joel took a swig of his beer, staring at you from across the room for a minute before blurting out, “The usual is busy. Extremely busy and tedious. But, um, how was Sarah? Hope you weren’t asleep too long.”

“Nope,” You lied, “I Wasn’t asleep long at all. Sarah was great. We had a bit of trouble with lunch, but everything ended up fine.”

“Good. Good. Well you can head out now, thanks for taking care of her.”

No. You did not want to "head out." You rose to your feet. “Joel?”

He looked around as he swallowed his beer. “Uh, yeah?”

“I actually wanted to talk to you. About yesterday.”

He peered down at the ground, swishing around the bottle in his hand. “That’s—That’s okay, honey. I think it’s best we forget that happened.”

“What? But why?”

Joel crossed the room and sat down next to you, leaning back against the couch while you sat back down on the edge with your elbows resting on your knees.

“Come on,” He started, “Don’t act like you don’t know exactly why we’re… this… is impossible.”

“Joel, I—”

“—I’m sorry. You should get home now.”

You turned around to face him. “Joel. No one has to know.” 

“As I said, I’m sorry. I handled yesterday… terribly. There were a million different ways to go about that, and I somehow chose the worst one. But we don't work. We can't work.”

You felt your eyes begin to water, but you tried to push the feeling down.

“Hey, hey,” He lulled, the hardness of his attitude falling away as he noticed the sad shine in your eyes, “Don’t cry.” He pulled you against him, rubbing your shoulder firmly.

“Joel,” You mumbled in a small voice, sniffling against his denim shirt with a frown.

He swallowed the lump in his throat, trying to justify what he was quickly realizing was inevitable. You were an adult, somebody else independent of your father. It was your choice who to get involved with, just like it was his. This was mutual.

He knew he would regret it later, but your innocence and desperation allured him to the point of no return.

“It’s late,” Joel began, voice gentle as he offered you one last out, “You should go home. You need sleep, you’re not thinking straight. I’ll call you in the morning.”

“No,” You replied, removing yourself from his body so you could look him in the eye. “I don’t want to leave. I want you to… I want you to do what you said you’d do.”

Knowing exactly what you were talking about, he redundantly asked in a whisper, “And what’s that?”

You wiped a stray tear as you clumsily moved to straddle his lap. Almost automatically, his hands found their way to your hips, his thumbs rubbing circles into the slivers of skin peeking between your cami tank top and the waistband of your shorts. But it seemed at some point his consciousness realized what he was doing because his hands suddenly dropped to his sides. And, well, you just wouldn’t have that, so you grabbed hold of his wrists and returned them to where they were settled on your hips before you rested your own hands on Joel’s chest.

“You remember, don’t you?” You shifted in his lap, “You said you’d teach me.”

“How to have sex.” He said it more like a confirmation rather than a question.

You blushed at his blatant use of the word. It was like every fifth thing coming out of his mouth was sending your brain spiraling. You cleared your throat. “Yeah. Yeah, sex. Blowjobs, orgasms, literal sex. All of it.”

Silence for a beat. “I have one condition,” Joel warned.

“Yeah, what is it?”

“The second I suspect your dad is onto us, that’s it. It’s over. No more messing around, none of it. I can’t lose my best friend.”

You nodded. You probably shouldn’t have agreed so easily, but you didn’t actually think you and Joel would ever get caught.

“Okay, then,” Joel whispered. “Good. What do you wanna do first? Start off easy.”

You looked around the room nervously, careful not to make eye contact as you spoke. “Like. I dunno. Maybe for right now, I could just… touch you. Touch it, I mean.”

Joel nodded, and when your breathing began to grow the slightest bit uneven from nervousness, he noticed and rubbed your upper arm reassuringly. “Hey. Relax. Climb down and sit right there on the ground between my legs, and I’ll show you where to start.”

And so you did. Joel peered down at you with heavy lids as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, and thus began your first lesson.

“Unbuckle my pants.”

With shaky hands, you removed his belt and undid his fly. You couldn’t explain why, but as soon as you caught sight of the bulge in his boxers, your mouth watered.

“What…” You began, “What now?”

“Whatever feels comfortable.”

With a light, feathery touch, you delicately traced a singular finger along the outline of his cock. Joel shivered at the contact, hands shooting to grip the sofa. Touching it felt different this time, more intense because you could feel every ridge and vein; you blamed it on the much thinner fabric dividing your fingers and his cock.

Your breath shuddered before speaking, “Can I take it ou—”

“—Yes, God, yes.”

You hooked your fingers into the waistband of his boxers, pulling downwards until his cock sprang free. It was thick, long, and wet at the tip, and you found yourself instinctively leaning further into it.

“Okay,” Joel sighed shakily, “Now just form a circle with your fingers and stroke it.”

You did as Joel said, and when your fingers finally made contact with his cock, you sighed at how velvety the skin was there. Soft and smooth, except for the trimmed hair surrounding the base. You stroked him steadily, biting your lip as you watched the wetness leaking from his tip spread down his shaft.

“Twist at the tip, honey, twist at the—Yeah, just like that. So good, you’re doing so good.” You couldn’t help but smile when Joel tilted his head back from the pleasure of it all.

With Joel still reeling from the contact of your hand, you took his momentary refusal to look down at you as an opportunity to surprise him a little.

You leaned forward and kitten-licked his tip, and it had him finally making eye contact with you as he whispered, “Oh, do that again.”

And so you did, adoring the look of pleasure strewn across Joel’s face.

Joel offered you a quick, crooked grin. “How’s it feel?” He asked, brushing his thumb along your bottom lip as your tongue played with his tip.

You pulled away for a moment to respond, “How’s what feel?”

“Licking a man’s cock.”

You let the spit that had gathered in your mouth drip down onto his length. “I have the urge to do more with it.”

“Like what?”

“Like put it all the way in my mouth.”

And so kitten licks turned into long stripes up his shift, which turned into eager suckling on his tip, which turned into forcing his cock down as far as it could go without making you gag.

Joel’s hand gripped the back of your head, but he never pushed you down. Whenever you did accidentally end up gagging, he petted your hair, mumbling encouragements as best he could through the blinding pleasure. Things like, “Yeah, honey, doing so good. That’s it. Just a little more. Mhm.” And his affectionate nature, his gentleness, his reassuring words—he was exactly how you hoped he would be like. Not to mention, the general hotness of it all had your hips canting down against nothing, in desperate search of relief.

“M’close, sweetheart. Take it—Take it out.”

“I don’t wanna,” You replied in a hoarse voice as you jacked him off.

“You’re not ready for that, honey, just take it out. Take it out.”

You reluctantly complied, removing him from the tight heat of your mouth, drool dripping down your chin as you stroked him rapidly.

“Joel, I… I think I’m wet.”

He moaned a curse at that, his chest rising and falling in rapid breaths as his orgasm approached him. “Jesus f-fuckin’… Tell me more.”

“I need you to touch it for me next time. Please. Maybe you could… Maybe you could put your mouth on it like how I put my mouth on you.”

“Yes, yes, oh fuck, I’m cumming, don’t stop stroking it,” Joel moaned, hot white spurts shooting up and all over your hand as you stroked him through it.

With his breathing still labored, he panted out in a high voice, “You’re lying. You’re f-fucking lying. Tell me the truth.”

“About what?”

“This isn’t—You’ve done this before. No way you made me cum this hard and it’s your first time.”

“Well,” You breathed a nervous laugh, “That’s flattering. But you’re my first. Trust me.”

When his orgasm fully subsided, Joel lay slumped against the sofa with his legs spread wide. You remained between them with your head resting on his thigh as you just stared at his cock. Took it all in, every curve, every vein, and inevitably, the cum that spurted itself over the surrounding area.

“What are you doing?” Joel chuckled, petting your hair as you smiled.

“I’m… I don’t know really. I just can’t stop looking at it.”

But then curiosity got the best of you, and you began to drag your fingers through the mess at his base. It caught Joel off-guard, his entire body stiffening as he watched you.

“What does it taste like?” You asked quietly as you examined the cum on your fingers. 

“Oh my god,” Joel groaned through his labored breathing, “I swear, if you do what I think you’re about to do, I’ll be hard again in five seconds.”

“I’ll take my chances,” You joked, bringing your finger to your mouth and licking it clean, ultimately wincing at the taste. “It’s like, bitter. And salty. And kinda sweet. But mostly bitter and salty. To be honest, it’s kinda nasty but I can see myself getting used to it.”

“Wow,” Joel sighed, “You just really know how to set the mood. Make things real romantic.”

“Oh, shut it,” You huffed, playfully swatting his thigh before getting up and plopping down next to him on the sofa as he got to work stuffing himself back into his pants despite the mess he made—that was a problem for future Joel. 

“Gonna miss you, little Joel,” You joked to his crotch.

“Oh my god, you’re the worst,” Joel chuckled painfully with his fists in his eyes. “I’m never letting you near ‘little Joel’ again.”

“Mm, no, because I just made you cum so hard you thought I was lying about being a virgin.”

He sighed at that. “You got me there.”

“I did, didn’t I?”

You both laughed at that; In fact, you both were laughing a lot. And at everything. In your head, you blamed it on the ecstatic high of being in each other’s presence this way.

When the mutual laughter died down, Joel looked at you for a moment, admiring you. Then, slow and hesitant as ever, he leaned in to kiss you.

“Do you taste it?” You whispered, breaking the kiss as you fought another giggle.

“Yes, actually. Wait, don’t say it please, this is actually a nice moment—”

“—Your cum!” You loud-whispered.

Another sigh. “My cum.”

You eagerly kissed him back after that, swearing off mood-breaking jokes for the rest of the night. Eventually, you even became too tired to kiss, simply letting your forehead rest against his. Your eyes fluttered shut as his hand snaked up your leg and inched under the leg of your shorts, using force to push your legs open wider.

“Need me to take care of this?” He asked into your mouth before letting his kisses travel down to your neck.

“Joel,” You breathed, breaths beginning to come out in rapid succession as your hips gyrated in response to how dangerously close Joel’s hand was to your pussy. “I… I’m tired.”

“Sweetheart, you don’t have to do a thing,” Joel breathed, removing his hand from beneath your shorts in order to pull down the waistband. “It’s a yes or no question. Just give me a yes or a no.”

Your breath hitched as you opened your eyes and stared at the little bit of empty space left between you and Joel. The throbbing between your legs was bad, but it was something about the delayed gratification of saving things for later that stopped you from saying yes. “No, I… I think that’s it for tonight.”

Joel withdrew his hand, reassuringly cracking a brief smile. “Hey, uh, spend the night. It’s way too late, I’ll sleep on the couch.”

You shrugged. “Yeah, but what about Sarah?” 

“I came home super late, you fell asleep, and I didn’t want to wake you.”

You thought about it for a second before agreeing. “Yeah. Yeah, okay. Thank you. But I’m taking the couch.”

“What? No—”

“—Joel. I’m taking the couch.”

He looked at you skeptically but then agreed. “If you change your mind just let me know.”

“I will. Goodnight.”

Joel squeezed your leg before getting up and making his way to the stairs. “Goodnight.”

masterlist

A/N: strikethrough means i can't tag you, check your settings

taglist:

@basicoccult @myhusband2cool @fleuraimer @chunguk @xkyxkyxxlylcylulucufifluclu @pintsizedsunshine @s1eepy-bear @daddysuperduperlonglegs @worhols @evyiione @criesside @saph-cyare

@gswizzsstuff @baloobalee @gessmiller05 @trynasurvivelol @yazsos @marchai @pompii @alyssa1216 @daddy-din @msmagix4 @blooming-bubs @huffle-punk @whorrorain @iliketoeatstrawberrypocky @onlineplant @totallynotastanacc @hiddenbabynyc @thedoctorofpoop @kamcrazy123 @afterglowsb-tch13

@redplaidedandcladed @simping-soldat @martyluvsu @mingiast @teddybonkers1960 @brittmb15 @ellswilliams @laurasunsole @senaar-ika @whore4ellie @harrysbitvh123 @atremises @silkiers @bbyanarchist @pawnshopbluess222 @https-hann @cassiesolos @xanqels @jawgrinder

@daylighthrry @victoriamay1357 @jeezkiddo @its-spooky-these-days @pedro-luvr @chibimosa @sagethephantom @loathsome-gargoyle @alejaa-a @greenclues @june-julie @spenciesprincess @donttamethebeasts @alec0 @djarinsimp 

[spicycinnabun]

If you’re still doing the make me write, I’d love a bite of a werewolf au!

🐺

It seems I will be doing this make me write into april, so yes! haha. here you go! hope you enjoy.

Tommy handed Buck his number. He’d scribbled it down on the back of a receipt. “In case you need me. Or if you just want to talk, wolf to wolf.”

“Thanks.” Buck put it in the kangaroo pocket of his (Tommy’s) hoodie. “You won’t mind if I hound you with texts?”

“No, but I might ghost you if you send me dog jokes.”

Buck laughed. “Sorry. I won’t. I think Chim is rubbing off on me. He’s the biggest culprit when it comes to those.”

Tommy looked surprised by that. “They know about you at work?”

“Yeah. Didn’t take long for the wolf to come out of the cave,” Buck admitted. “Besides the fact I’m not so great at keeping secrets, I accidentally wolfed out in front of Eddie—my best friend—and his son. That was back when I didn’t have much control over my shift.” He would never forget Eddie’s initial reaction: shock, horror, fear, and how he’d shielded Chris from Buck like Buck was a danger to him. 

Tommy made a sympathetic noise. 

Buck cleared his throat, shaking the memory away. “Luckily, things are good now. But you never told them?”

“No. Just Bobby,” Tommy said with a shrug, “and that wasn’t by choice. I’ve always been very careful, but he put the pieces together somehow. I was trading shifts to avoid working the full. He found that pattern.”

Buck hummed. “Yeah, Cap is perceptive.” 

Still, that sounded pretty lonely. Hell, Buck was lonely—a bone-deep, inescapable, all-consuming lonely—and he had multiple people who knew about his curse. Who did Tommy have?

“You don’t need to look at me like that. It’s fine. The fewer humans who know, the better. Trust me.”

Buck wasn’t sure if it was fine, but it wasn’t his place to call it out. 

Driven by an impulsive need to be close one last time, Buck unbuckled himself and leaned across the console, hugging Tommy goodbye.

Tommy stiffened for a moment before relaxing, arms wrapping around Buck. Buck heard his heart stumble. Tommy’s nose pressed against his scent gland, rubbing and nuzzling. Scent marking him. 

“Thanks for everything, Alpha. I—I don’t know how I can repay you,” Buck said. His face burned as they reluctantly withdrew from each other, his wolf supplying him with a few less than innocent ideas. 

“There’s nothing to repay.” He was shocked to find Tommy’s eyes glowing red, his voice rough. His heart was still beating off-kilter. Buck’s was, too. “I liked taking care of you.”

Nobody had ever said that to Buck before. Not even Maddie.

Buck ducked his head for a moment too long before glancing up. “Keep safe.” 

In general, he meant, in their line of work—but he was also concerned about those hunters. What if they came back, but in a larger group? What if Tommy was ambushed? 

“Always do, pup.”

Buck grabbed the door handle. Nearly missed it, flustered again. It almost felt like a force was pushing against him, growling stay, making it hard to get out of the truck. 

His feet hit the pavement, and his heels dragged heavy as he walked toward his Jeep. He glanced over his shoulder. Waved.

Tommy smiled at him. Lifted a few fingers off the wheel. His eyes were still red. His truck idled there until Buck was in his driver’s seat. 

They drove away in separate directions.

⏾

Only later, when Buck was back in his quiet, empty loft, laying in bed replaying their interaction, did he realize he’d called Tommy Alpha—and not just in his head. Out loud.

Like Tommy was the leader of his pack. Like he belonged to Tommy. 

Wolves moved fast, but that was way too fast. Despite how Tommy had cared for him, Buck doubted the guy was ready for him like that. He’d only had to handle Buck for a few days.

Buck took the receipt out of his pocket and smoothed it out, looking at the numbers. Tommy’s penmanship was sharp, almost elegant. 

Buck picked up his phone. It had been completely dead, of course, and he’d had to charge it. He was slightly disappointed by the lack of notifications when he powered it on. He thought someone might have checked in on him. 

Though it wasn’t a full moon, and he was still on his ninety-six. He guessed they had no reason to think of him or wonder why he’d gone dark.

Buck added Tommy’s number to his contacts, adding a paw print emoji by his name.

It’s Evan, he texted. At my place now. In bed.

He wasn’t sure why he reported that info—as if it mattered to Tommy where he was or what he was doing. Maybe he should’ve waited a while to send a message. But if Tommy got into trouble, at least he’d have Buck’s number.

His phone lit up.

Good to know. Sweet dreams, Evan.

Buck pulled the hoodie over his head and curled up, giving himself more scent coverage. He would have to shower in the morning before work, washing Tommy away. 

He doubted his dreams would be sweet, yet he remained optimistic. The reprieve from the nightmares had been unbelievable, and he had the Alpha to thank for that. He actually felt rested.

You too, he sent. Good night. :)

⏾

tag list: @justahumblecabbagemerchant @loulou-land @harmonic-intervention @sweaters-and-silly @theallyandhisbeast @brassm-tagged @scuderiadebauchery @chococara25 @darkqueen458 @cinderellarhea @setmeatopthepyre @buffaluff @eliotwaughdeservesbetter @figuringitoutaloud @cannibalhellhound @i-dont-even-know-anymore976 @ambernotember @the-omniscient-narrator @zeraparker

previous parts

[potatomountain]

Puppy Play Time

2024 Kinktober piece! Masterlist

The request by @bethelighthalazia Soo, I'd have a request for your kinktober if you're comfortable with such 🥺👉👈 I'd like to request petplay with collars and leash and stuff :3 for fem reader with Yunho and Mingi. It's up to you, if her being their pet is everyday roleplay between them (meaning reader behaving like their pet 24/7) or if it's just for their sex/bdsm sessions <3 And @mingsolo requested: Mingi catching Yunho in the act with reader and either Yunho knows and invites him in or he just watches

Pairing: Yunho/Mingi x fem reader WC: 1k AU: sugar daddy's Yungi! non-idol Summary: More of a sugar pet than baby, YunGi adore their sweet puppy- especially when they take out their frustrations out on you anytime they wish. Event Kink list: Voyeurism, threesome, pet play, bondage, free use Warnings/smut (cont): DP, anal, mxm, collar/leash, adult toys AN: I know its two requests but i figured I could make them work together (its also easier on me lol) Honorable tags: @mirohs-aurora-society for the Kinktober event list! Banner and dividers made by me

The sounds of moans, grunts, and the bed hitting the wall was what greeted Mingi when he got home. Considering it was upstairs, and he heard it all loud and clear from the front door, he knew Yunho was being rough on you.

Which either meant he would get punished for interrupting, or you were being punished and he could join in. On the chance it was the latter he found himself heading upstairs and loosening his clothes.

“Such a good pet you are, taking my cock so well.” Yunho’s grunts were followed by the slap of skin and a mangled cry of yours. “That's it, take it puppy.”

Mingi's breath hitched at the sight of you, tears running down your cheeks and drool on your chin. Yunho had your arms pulled back, holding them by the wrists as he pounded relentlessly into you. The collar around your throat was being tugged harshly by the leash wrapped around one of Yunho's hands, the veins prominent from the strain. You were completely immobilized by him, taking his cock like the good puppy you were.

Their puppy.

He found himself palming at his crotch, eager to go in there and use your pretty mouth; see you choking on his size. But Yunho was in a mood, and Mingi knew better than to join without permission. If he was frustrated enough, which judging by the growing bruises on your hips and ass he was, then he'd let him join. Mingi was sure of it.

Must have had a hard day at work. Mingi mused to himself as he pulled out his hard cock, gripping the base with the strength he imagined your pussy would be gripping Yunho. As if willing it, Yunho's head rolled back as he let out a low groan. You had gone quiet, mouth hanging open and eyes rolled back telling Mingi you really did just cum on his cock.

Yunho pulled out before he would cum, cock angry and red; the sight made Mingi's mouth water.

Slapping your ass, Yunho roughly let you go as your body shook from your orgasm. “Bad puppy, I didn't say you could cum. Now you don't get your milk.”

You whined pathetically, which had Mingi stroking his cock now. He hoped to be noticed, or maybe he could settle with just his hand until Yunho calmed down. No- no he wanted to join.

Your eyes flickered over to his direction at the moan he purposely let fall. Yunho was deliberately slow in turning, a wicked grin on his face. “Husband, are you watching us? Naughty. She's your pet too.” He harshly slapped your thigh, but you didn't care at all, whining up at him in response.

Mingi slowly stepped in, meeting your fucked out gaze and taking in the sight of you. Aside from the tear streaks and drool on your chin, the ears on your head were messed up and the tail protruding from your ass was wet and sticking to your soaked inner thighs. Having you as their pet, as theirs to use at any time, making a mess of you was one of their favorite things to do.

Yunho pulled him close once he was in range, still in his work slacks and his shirt unbuttoned but still on. Hell, even his tie hung loosely from him. “Yun- you should undress properly before fucking our Puppy.” Mingi started to undress him, not at all bothered by the hard stare the other fixed him with.

“Speak for yourself.” Yunho's lips crashed to his, tugging at his clothes as he pushed his tongue in to mingle with his.

You could only watch as the two devoured each other, equals while you were their pretty pet.

Soon enough Mingi was naked and hovering above you, Yunho behind him with his hand stroking his cock and biting along his shoulder. “What do you say? Her pretty ass should be plenty prepped… and if it's not-” He shrugged, twisting Mingi's cock roughly to show he didn't care.

You were getting more turned on by the second. Despite Yunho already fucking you nonstop for what felt like an hour, making you cum, making a mess out of you, you were eager for them both. Mingi was just as eager, answering his husband’s question by roughly pulling the tail out of your ass and tossing it aside. They kept a waterproof blanket on top with one of many extra sheets over it for this reason.

“Do you want her ass?” Mingi groaned out as Yunho rubbed his cock against his ass; he wouldn’t mind that either. “Mmm, yes. Lay down Min.” Yunho pulled away, watching with a hard look as Mingi was quick to do as he was told. You were being manhandled before he was even comfortable, Yunho roughly pulling you onto Mingi’s lap and lining him up at your entrance. 

Both of you cried out as Yunho forced you down fully on his cock, taking in the expressions both of you made. He could watch you two fuck, that was enough for him sometimes, but not today. 

Handing Mingi your leash, the man beneath you began to buck his hips so you were bouncing on his cock, being used like a toy- just how you liked it. You could hear Yunho behind you, the next second feeling a bit more lube, before Mingi yanked you forward and gripped one of your ass cheeks to spread you further for him.

There was no warning before you were stretched out to accommodate Yunho’s large size. No time to adjust before he had your arms pulled back again and both slamming their full lengths into your twin holes ruthlessly. Your mind went numb with the intense mixture of pleasure and pain, drool falling from your open mouth down onto Mingi. With the tight hold he had on the leash, and Yunho’s rough hand holding both of your wrists while pressing down on the small of your back, your muscles were pulled in all sorts of directions that just intensified it all.

But this was just the start of their play time with their favorite puppy, and it wasn’t over until you were too fucked dumb to continue, and even then they might just have you watch them fuck each other.

Taglist (continued in reblogs):

@crispybaguettes | @sugarnspice630 | @mingsolo | @isiloiale | @candypop1611 |

| @lavishloving | @thesafecafe | @meepsters-world | @mysticfire0435 | @heihaneul |

| @cloudysannie | @sanhwalvr | @plutoneu |  @sousydive | @staytinyinmybpack |

| @vannabanana1995  | @piratequeen-queenofgames | @starstruckforyou | @minheeskitten | @amphiroxx  |

| @yothangie | @fatalt | @venn-ie | @ddaeing | @therealcuppicake |

[winxanity-ii]

𝐈𝐌𝐏𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐓: 𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃

❘ prev. chapter ❘༻✦༺❘ next chapter ❘

Sorry, not an update, but I'll try to keep this short...

I just wanted to take a second to speak directly and honestly with y'all after posting that last chapter (CHAPTER 42.5: WRATH WEARS MANY FACES). I've been seeing a few responses that, while valid in feeling, have also reminded me why I normally don't look at comments after publishing something heavy.

Let me be clear: I know this chapter was a lot. It was violent. It was cruel. It was painful. That was intentional.

This isn't fluff. This isn't comfort every chapter. This is a mythos-based story, rooted in ancient violence, power imbalance, and divine wrath.

I'm not here writing gore for fun or romanticizing harm—but I am writing a story where gods and mortals alike are capable of monstrous things, especially when they feel justified.

Chapter 42.5 was especially meant to remind you who Apollo, Hermes, and Telemachus really are—how close they sit to the divine cruelty of Olympus. I love them, yes. They're soft to MC, yes. But they are not soft to the world and those they deem unimportant/useless. That contrast is what makes their tenderness meaningful.

And I've hidden Hermes' darker side behind jokes long enough. Some of y'all forgot he's a god, and a trickster, and someone with centuries of blood under his belt. There's nothing squeaky clean about him.

If the chapter bothered you—I understand. It's not meant to sit easy. And for those of you who felt empathy for Melanion, or said this felt too much... I respect your reactions. Seriously. You're allowed to feel conflicted. That's what good storytelling should do.

But what isn't okay is the passive-aggressive commentary about my choices as a writer. I've been transparent from the beginning: this fic isn't some wholesome, "MC gets babied 24/7" kind of tale. It's a dark, myth-heavy journey with stakes and consequences. You don't get a kiss in Chapter 2 here. You had to wait because the world I'm building doesn't hand out softness that easily.

And I can't help but find it a bit hypocritical how some folks cheer for Andreia to die, but pity the man who murdered MC in cold blood. Y'all got mad at her for emotional cruelty, but want grace for someone who left them bleeding in an alley? We must not have grown up reading the same myths lol.

I'm not saying you can't critique or feel strongly. You're welcome to disagree. To feel things deeply. That's human. But don't twist the space/story I've created into something it was never meant to be. This isn't an Epic Musical fluff AU (hence the note of not needing to actually know about it). This is Olympus. This is blood-soaked marble. This is war, consequence, and love wrapped in power dynamics. I've made that plenty clear with me writing out the suitors carnage in chapter 6 instead of summarizing it.

And I say this with love but also honesty: if my content, tone, or direction rubs you the wrong way, it's okay to step away. Truly. I'll never beg anyone to read something outside their comfort zone.

Also—and this might be petty but I'm adding it here anyway—I'm even more annoyed because I had to spoil a big MC-related moment to my own sister. 😭

We promised to treat each other as authors, only editing each other's chapters once we’d both read them fully. That was the deal. But she noticed I was acting off and pushed me about it—kept asking what was wrong and finally told me to just rant before it ate me alive. So I did.

And man, I'm a damn blabbermouth because once I started venting, it all spilled out. Do you know how hard it was keeping a main plot twist from her? Only to have to reveal it because sister issues come first?? 😭💀

But yeah, back to being serious, this is my second serious fic, one where I'm trying to do something I can look back on and be like 'Xani, you ate that up fr.' And if that means I have to block people who threaten the joy or safety of my creative space?

Then so be it—rejection sensitivity or not.

That being said, I'm taking a real break from updating. I know I said I was taking a break after the last chapter, but the truth is, I was just trying to pace myself and stay ahead without losing momentum...but now I mean it—for real. I think I need an actual one to cool off and not spiral.

And yeah... maybe this rant feels a little intense or childish to some of y'all, but I needed to say it or I was just gonna end up doing something impulsive that I'd end up regretting later.

To those of you who do get it, who read carefully and trust the process—thank you. Deeply.

I'll see y'all soon 🖤

—Xani

Tag List: nerds4life246 ace-spades-1 uniquetravelerone alassal thesimppotato11 jackintheboxs-world kahlan170 akiqvq matchaabread danishland uselessmoonlight apad-ravya suckerforblondies jolixtreesunn dreamtheatre woncloudie byzantiumhollow kisskisskys b4ts1e sarcasticbitchsblog trashcannotbealive idkanyonealrr

[starlightkun]

❧ word count: 17.6k ❧ genre: fluff, a sprinkle of angst & hurt/comfort, paranormal/supernatural au, ghost!jisung, established relationship, sequel to pur autre vie ❧ warnings: mentions of death, prominent side character dies prior to the beginning of the fic, depictions of grieving, more family tension/drama (yeah those assholes are back lol) ❧ extra info: this is the sequel to pur autre vie, it cannot be read as a standalone. you must read pur autre vie first! ❧ author’s note: oops i once again fell in love with a couple and cannot let them go! so here’s a sequel! i meant to post this a lot closer to the original but ended up getting stuck on some scenes and took breaks to write some other things, but it’s finally here and i rlly like how it turned out!!

“The house,” he sighed, rubbing his face. “Do you want it?”

“Like, Hyukjun’s house? The one that you just got?” You clarified. “I appreciate the offer, but I don’t have the money to buy a house.”

“No, no, you can have it,” he sounded and looked absolutely defeated.

You narrowed your eyes at him, immediately suspicious. “What’s wrong with it?”

Your stepbrother’s face screwed up as if he just ate a lemon; he clearly didn’t want to tell you the reason. “All the renters said it’s haunted,” he finally blurted out.

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, looking around the coffee shop that you were at. Your eldest stepbrother had asked to meet with you, and you couldn’t imagine that it was anything good—certainly not just to get coffee and catch up. You hadn’t ordered anything, wanting to be able to make a quick escape if needed.

Seohyuk usually didn’t request a meeting with you. If he wanted to talk to you, he typically called to tell you he was going to stop by on his way to or from work, or just dropped by unannounced. That’s why you were extra on edge. You had arrived early, and kept checking the time every two minutes or so.

Finally, you saw him walking in, and thankfully he was alone, not accompanied by either of his younger brothers or his mother. Seohyuk was much easier to handle on his own. You made eye contact with him, but didn’t wave or make any move to stand up and greet him as he arrived at your table. He sat down across from you, looking rather disheveled. His hair was unkempt as if he’d been running his fingers through it all day and hadn’t looked in a mirror to fix it, his tie was loose and askew, his dress shirt crumpled, and his suit jacket that you knew he typically wore to work was missing entirely. He was also pink-cheeked and seemed to be trying to hide how heavily he was breathing, as if he had run here and didn’t want you to know.

“Good afternoon, Seohyuk,” you said politely, opting not to comment on his appearance.

He cleared his throat. “Good afternoon, Y/N.”

“Do you have a concern with the house? Or is this a question about possessions?” You decided to just be direct. Those were pretty much the only two things he ever contacted you about.

When your mother passed away six months ago and you moved out of her and Hyukjun’s house, the property had gone to your three stepbrothers. Which meant that your life since then had been a seemingly endless string of inquiries over you “damaging” the home while you had lived there, or you “stealing” stuff that was “rightfully” theirs when you moved out—i.e., items that were actually your mother’s, but they tried to claim were Hyukjun’s.

“The house,” he sighed, rubbing his face. “Do you want it?”

You couldn’t hide your surprise, your carefully neutral expression falling right off your face. “Wait, what?”

“Do you want the house?”

“Like, Hyukjun’s house? The one that you just got?” You clarified. “You’re... trying to sell it to me? I appreciate the offer, but I don’t have the money to buy a house.”

“No, no, you can have it,” he sounded and looked absolutely defeated.

You narrowed your eyes at him, immediately suspicious. “What’s wrong with it? What could you have done to it in six months?”

“Nothing! Nothing!” He pleaded. “It’s pretty much the same, we actually fixed up some of the wiring, stuff like that. We’ve tried to rent it out, but nobody will stay.”

“You can’t keep your renters?”

“We’ve had four different tenants, none of them lasted longer than a month.”

“What? Why? It’s a great house.”

Seohyuk’s face screwed up as if he just ate a lemon; he clearly didn’t want to tell you the reason.

“Come on, I already know somebody died in the house,” you scoffed. “What is it?”

“They all said it’s haunted,” he finally blurted out. “And I mean, you know it’s an old house, it creaks and stuff sometimes—I tried to tell them that. They said the lights would flicker, so we replaced the bulbs. Cold spots—We had a guy look at the A/C, he said it was fine. Then it was things disappearing from one room and reappearing in another room, and they swore nobody who lived there moved them. One couple said they started on a jigsaw puzzle before they went to bed and when they woke up, it was all put together.”

You slowly nodded, very carefully controlling your facial expressions as you tried to figure out what reaction you should be having to this. Skepticism? Curiosity? Unease?

“All of your tenants said stuff like that happened?” You clarified.

“Every single one,” he confirmed. “And it got worse with each new one. The first one moved out after a month. The second, two weeks. Third, a week. The last one only lasted three days.”

You squinted at him suspiciously, crossing your arms over your chest. “And why do you think I would want to live there?”

“I’m not a superstitious man whatsoever,” he adjusted his tie a bit, “but after all this, I went to the house myself to see what was going on.”

“What, did you bring a Ouija board or something?” You joked, sitting back in your chair.

“I felt ridiculous bringing it in, but yes.”

You knew you were giving him the most incredulous look ever, but he went on with his story anyway.

“I sat down with the board in the living room and asked if there was a spirit in the home. Something cold touched my hands, then the pointer moved to yes.”

“Planchette.”

“Hm?”

“It’s called a planchette,” you corrected him dryly.

“Right.”

“So what happened next?”

Seohyuk continued, “I asked if it was your mother first. I figured that was most reasonable, since she had just…”

“Passed away in the house right before all this started happening?” You filled in for him.

“Yes. But the… planchette moved to no. So then I asked if it was my dad. Again, no.”

“I still don’t see how this leads to me taking the possibly haunted house back from you,” you reminded him, desperately suppressing your giddiness.

“Look, I asked if it was an evil spirit, and it said no.”

“Why would an evil spirit tell you it was evil?”

“It hasn’t hurt anybody, or damaged anything, or done anything bad at all!” Seohyuk was practically begging now. “I mean, I’ve been thinking about it: you lived there for two years while you took care of your mom, and nothing like this happened that whole time, right?”

“No, I can’t say anything like this happened,” you tepidly agreed.

“The spirit must have been there the whole time you were there, and it only started doing this stuff once you left. I think if you go back, it should… calm down.”

You let silence hang in the air for a few moments, holding his eye contact, admittedly enjoying seeing him squirm under your gaze as he seemed to realize how crazy all of that sounded. Finally, you sighed, “I don’t know, Seohyuk, my new place is closer to my job…”

“I will pay you to take it at this point. We can’t rent it, or sell it, this has become an absolute nightmare.” He clasped his hands in front of him, quite literally begging now.

“And you’ll stop harassing me about our parents’ possessions?”

“Yes, yes.”

You pretended to contemplate this again, despite your mind being made up from the very beginning. After another agonizingly long bout of silence, you asked, “How much?”

When your mom was first put on hospice over a year ago now, you had started preparing to leave hers and Hyukjun’s house—and trying anything and everything to bring Jisung with you. You knew that once she passed, your stepbrothers wouldn’t give you much time to get out, so you had to make all your preparations long before then so you could vacate at the drop of a hat. Packing, cleaning, deciding what of your mother’s you were going to keep and what you would be donating, figuring out how to move your ghost boyfriend from one parcel of land to your new apartment.

First you’d tried taking all of the original kitchen cabinet knobs with you, but after fourteen hours, he still blipped back to the house. When a contractor was over doing some repairs, you pocketed a chunk of brick and tried that—six hours. A piece of the foundation—ten hours. Cabinet knobs, brick, and foundation—that was the longest, a full twenty-four hours; you had an overnight errand to run for your mother and tried it then.

You eventually branched out in your search for a way to move Jisung, checking out all sorts of books from the library and staying up late reading blog posts. But no matter what sort of herbs, metals, crystals, or recitation you tried, you could never beat time—he was always eventually, frustratingly, pulled back to the house.

And now here you were, in front of the house again. The flowers had seen better days, looking a little sad as you stopped to inspect their wilting petals and sandy dirt around them. You frowned to yourself, putting that near the top of your mental to-do list. The windows of the two-story townhouse were dark, and the porch swing looked like it had been sanded and re-stained along with the rest of the porch.

Turning the key in the lock of the front door, you heard the familiar click of the mechanism and wrapped your hand around the door handle. You pushed it open, slightly disappointed when you didn’t hear the usual creak of the hinges—they must have been oiled since you left. The house was quiet and dim, and you shut the door behind you.

Looking around expectantly, you called out into the seemingly empty home, “Jisung? Come on, I know it’s you—Ah!”

A weight suddenly crashing into you from the solid wall on your left cut you off, and you immediately recognized the cold arms wrapped around you.

“Y/N,” Jisung murmured under his breath, almost as if he didn’t believe it. “Y/N…”

“Jisung.” You squeezed him back, burying your face in his neck. “Oh, I’m back, Jisung.”

“You’re really-You’re really here?” He pulled back to hold your face with two hands. Jisung was just like you remembered, dark hair, dark eyes, his black cardigan and white shirt, and you were sure if you looked down, he’d have the same black pants and shoes as well.

You nodded, jangling the keys in your hand. “The house is mine. For good this time.”

“You didn’t—” His face looked both pained and touched. “How much did they charge you?”

“They paid me,” you informed him with a laugh. “Turns out it’s really hard to sell a haunted house around here.”

Jisung’s eyes widened as a plainly guilty look overtook his face, and his voice had poorly feigned obliviousness in it. “A… whaaat…? Pfft…”

“Since when have you been such a paranormal menace, Park Jisung?” You shook your head at him but couldn’t keep the amusement out of your tone. “Really, finishing people’s puzzles while they’re asleep, moving stuff around—Were you trying to make them move out?”

“I didn’t like any of them.” He crossed his arms. “The first ones fought every day and were just a bother, the second ones just worked all the time and when they were home all they talked about was their boring jobs, the third ones were just boring, and the fourth one—”

“—Was here for three days, how could you possibly have known if you liked them or not?”

“I knew,” he insisted. “He stepped on one of the flowerbeds when he was bringing in boxes and didn’t even care!”

“You actually did a Ouija board with Seohyuk?”

“I wasn’t going to, but I figured maybe I could get him to pick less shitty tenants,” he huffed. “I was thinking about spelling out your name, but I thought that might’ve been pushing it.”

“He already thinks I’m a little weird for taking the haunted house back, I’m glad you didn’t push our luck,” you said, cupping his cheek with one hand and kissing the other.

“You’re really back?” Jisung asked quietly, placing his hand over yours on his cheek.

“I’m home, Jisung,” you promised, tracing an X over the left side of your chest. “Cross my heart.”

In bed that night, you listened to Jisung’s even breathing, slowly drawn even closer to sleep by the circles his fingers traced on your back. His breath suddenly hitched and shuddered, as if suppressing a sniffle.

“Jisung?” You said his name quietly, already beginning to turn over to face him.

“It was so hard…” His face was tear-stained, and his lower lip trembled as he tried to talk. “Going from actually being somebody with you back to… nobody seeing me, or hearing me. Walking right through me. I’d done it for so long before you, I thought I could do it. But this time…”

“Jisung…” You couldn’t do much more than murmur his name. As soon as you’d reached out for him, he’d already thrown himself into your arms. You cradled his head to your chest, pressing a long kiss to his hair.

“I was so lonely,” he admitted, curling his fingers in your shirt. “I mean, I’ve been alone, but it’s never felt like-like that.”

“Shh, shh,” you soothed his sobs, gently rubbing a hand up and down his back. “I’m sorry, Jisung. I’m so sorry…”

He seemed to be trying to collect himself, wiping at his eyes as he lifted his head. “I’m sorry, Y/N. It must’ve… They kicked you out so soon after your mom passed. You didn’t even have time to grieve her.”

“It was really difficult, yeah. Especially because I didn’t have you,” you said softly, stroking his hair. “I didn’t have anybody. Felt like I was invisible, too.”

He shuffled up higher to sit up against the pillows, wrapping an arm around you, and you let him pull you under his chin. You leaned your head against him, your eyes misty. After a few blinks, the tears subsided again. You’d practically cried yourself dry in the past six months.

“I went to a grief support group the hospital holds once a week,” you continued, picking at your nails. “It helped, I guess, getting to talk about it with other people who were in the same sort of thing as me.”

“Good. I’m glad you found something to help.” He laced his fingers with yours, holding you even tighter. “I couldn’t—I hated the idea that you were going through all of that alone.”

“We’re not alone anymore,” you reminded him. “Okay?”

“Yeah, okay…” Jisung kissed your temple. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Coming back.”

“Thank you for waiting again.”

“You look very cute,” Jisung complimented you as you readjusted your outfit, poking the tip of your nose for good measure.

“Thank you,” you responded quietly, conscious of the other people nearby.

Content with your clothes, you looked around for the right person, and happened to spot a girl around your age standing further back and admiring the view as well. You and Jisung were at a riverside park that afforded a nice view of the city skyline across the water. The kitchen cabinet knobs were the easiest for you to carry about in your day-to-day life, and you found that two would usually cover Jisung for a full day out pretty well. You’d had one of the starbursts turned into a ring and another into a pendant that hung from a matching silver chain. The other six stayed in one of your tote bags in case you had something longer planned.

Approaching the girl with your phone in hand and already open to the camera, you offered a friendly smile. “Hi, I’m sorry to bother you, but would you mind taking a picture of me?”

“Oh, sure!” She agreed, taking your phone from you.

Moving back to the railing, you posed as if you were any other visitor, resting an arm on the handrail as you smiled for the camera. Jisung took his usual cue, stepping into your side and wrapping an arm around your shoulders. He did his best to jostle and move you as little as possible, assimilating to your position instead. The girl did a countdown before she took a few photos, and you made sure to make them each a little different, smiling, peace sign, poking your cheek. As always, Jisung did each changing pose with you.

After a few, you relaxed back out of your pose. “Thank you so much!”

“Here, look at them and make sure they’re good,” she said, handing your phone back. “I think something might be wrong with your camera, there’s this blur or something in the previews. It wasn’t showing up when I was shooting, but as soon as I took a picture, it was there.”

You took your phone back, looking at your pictures at an angle that she couldn’t see. And sure enough, Jisung was in all of them, hazy apparition and all.

“These are great, thank you!” You told her brightly, clicking your phone off.

She didn’t seem that invested in your strange phone camera phenomenon that was occurring, so she just gave you a skeptical look before shrugging. “Of course. Have a good day.”

“You too.”

Closing the front door behind you, you then stepped out of your shoes before heading for your living room. You were still wrapping your brain around this really being your home now. You flopped down onto the couch, Jisung beside you, and pulled your phone out to review the pictures from earlier.

“What do you think, Sungie?” You hummed, scrolling through your camera roll.

He scooted in closer to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and using that hand to switch between the pictures himself. He clicked his tongue contemplatively, zooming in on his “head” in one of the photos.

“Can you tell I’m winking?” He asked, squinting at the screen.

You giggled. “Not quite.”

“I like the first one and this one.”

“Me too.” You started doing a little bit of color balancing to the pictures.

“Are you hungry, baby? You didn’t get anything while we were out.”

“Oh, sure,” you replied absentmindedly.

“I’ll get you something to eat.” Jisung kissed the top of your head before standing up, and you heard his footsteps recede into the kitchen.

Content with the pictures, you opened up Instagram and got ready to draft a new post. You chose the two pictures that you and Jisung liked, then typed out your caption: ‘went to the river today.’

You’d just hit post when Jisung came back in with a plate of food for you. Setting your phone aside, you accepted the plate with a smile. “Thanks.”

“You posted them yet?” He asked, sitting back down and turning his attention to a partially-assembled jigsaw puzzle.

“Just did,” you confirmed, turning your phone back on to check your notifications. “All the usual stuff so far.”

You hadn’t set out to post pictures with your ghost boyfriend, much less make a hobby of it. When you went out, you used to be extra careful not to get him in any photos, actually. Then, when your mom was put on hospice, in her moments of lucidness she started giving you errands to run for her. She always asked for you to take pictures of yourself on all of the excursions she sent you on. She said it was because she couldn’t go with you, she wanted to be able to hear about it and see it so she could feel like she had gone with you.

At first, you hated every errand she sent you on. You didn’t want to leave her side for even a second, anxious to even use the bathroom, just in case you missed the moment she passed. But you’d begrudgingly accept the tasks, as they were usually things like ‘I want to drink this rare tea before I die,’ or ‘I want to eat a sweet from this bakery before I die.’ You only realized what she was doing when they started to become errands like ‘I always wanted to watch the sunset at this view, won’t you go and take a picture for me?’ At the time, you were still anxious that you would miss the moment, but in hindsight you felt overwhelmed with the knowledge of how loved you were, that your mom was still taking care of you in whatever way she could, even then.

Jisung would almost always accompany you on these errands, at least for however long he could. You tried to take nice pictures to show your mom wherever you went, and of yourself in those places, asking strangers to take pictures of you if you felt it appropriate—usually if she had sent you to some more touristy place. It was while someone else was taking your picture in front of some field of flowers of all places that you cracked under all the stress and burst into tears. Jisung stepped in to comfort you at the same time the older man had taken another picture—he realized that you’d started crying immediately after taking the picture and consoled you as well. Later, when you actually looked at the picture, you realized that Jisung had been captured in the photograph, a dark figure reaching towards you as you turned away from the camera to cover your face, seemingly turning into him. After that, the two of you decided to take more pictures together intentionally.

Having nothing better to do with the pictures, you shared them on your social media, figuring that nobody would naturally assume it was a real-life ghost. They didn’t, of course. Most people thought it was some kind of continued photography or photo-editing project. You didn’t expect it to draw in the outside audience that they did, though. Everybody had a different interpretation of the pictures. Some thought they were just meant to be spooky and look like a ghost, others thought the blur represented something, whether that be grief, a former relationship, mental health struggles, it really was endless. You, meanwhile, continued posting your pictures with your ghost boyfriend.

Putting your phone back down, you picked up a puzzle piece as well. You lost track of how long the two of you had been in peaceful silence, the only sounds that of the cardboard pieces sliding across the table and clicking into place when someone knocked on the door. It was a quick succession of knocks, and you and Jisung paused to look at each other.

“Are you expecting a package?” He asked.

“No.” You furrowed your brow. They knocked again, prompting you to get to your feet. “Neighbor maybe?”

When you peeked out the peephole, you spotted a woman standing there, smoothing out her designer clothes. She fixed her hair as she looked around almost nervously. You were tempted to not answer, except something about her seemed familiar, so you unlocked the latch and cracked open the door enough to show yourself, but not too wide.

“Uhm, hi?” You greeted her, keeping your tone light.

“Hi,” she immediately focused a bright, friendly smile on you. “Y/N, right?”

“Yes. You’re…?”

“Chaeyeon, I’m Seohyuk’s wife.”

“Of course.” You nodded and smiled politely, looking around uncertainly.

“It’s okay that you didn’t immediately recognize me, we only met the one time and it’s been a while,” Chaeyeon reassured you.

“Yes. It’s nice to see you again.”

“You too.” She was still smiling at you, and there was an awkward pause as you didn’t have anything to say back. Chaeyeon said, “I’m sure you’re confused why I’m here. There’s a book that Seohyuk was trying to find in his father’s things the other day and we haven’t been able to locate it. Neither of his brothers nor my mother-in-law have it, and it’s not on the list of things that we sold or donated. Would you mind checking to see if you have it?”

“My mom had a lot of books, it’s possible it got mixed in,” you agreed mildly. When she was still standing there a beat later with her expectant, shining eyes, hands clasped over her purse in front of her, you stepped back slightly from the door. “Uh, do you want to come in while I look for it?”

“Thank you.” She followed you in, and you closed the door behind her.

“I’m sorry Seohyuk sent you all the way out here and got you involved,” you said as you led her into the living room where the bookshelves were. Jisung was still sitting on the couch, and narrowed his eyes at Chaeyeon suspiciously. You shot him a warning look behind her back to behave. The last thing you needed was him spooking her or making you react in some socially unacceptable way in front of her.

“I asked to come. He was going to stop by on his way to work, but I had some errands to run, so I figured…” She trailed off wistfully. “I haven’t seen you since the wedding, you know.”

Unsure of what else to say, you replied, “Yeah, it’s been a while.”

“Here’s all her old books that I still have. What’s the title?” You asked, then paused after she read off the title from her phone. “Wait, that one?”

“Yes, is there a problem?”

You did your best not to outright roll your eyes, but didn’t entirely hide your annoyance at Seohyuk already going back on his agreement to stop harassing you over your respective parents’ things. “I know that book. It’s nice, actually one of my mom’s favorite authors. It’s in my room, wait here.”

Upstairs, you weren’t surprised that Jisung had followed you.

“He’s a dick,” he scoffed.

“Mm-hm.” You grabbed the book off your dresser. “What’s new?”

“Tell her no.”

“I’m tired, Jisung,” you sighed. “I’m tired of fighting with him about this stuff all the time. I have plenty of things to remember my mom and Hyukjun by. I mean—I have their house. If he really wants this book, he can have it. I’m done.”

Your ghost looked down at you sadly. “He did this the whole time you were gone too?”

“Pretty much, yeah.” You headed for the door. “I can’t keep her waiting.”

Descending the stairs and turning into the living room, you were pleasantly surprised to see Chaeyeon pretty much exactly where you left her. Not that you wanted to assume the worst of her, but it definitely had crossed your mind that Seohyuk had sent her here as part of some plot, no matter how nice she had been so far. But she was still in the living room, seemingly reading the spines of your collection of books, hands still on her purse.

She turned when she heard your footsteps. “You have so many books. Have you read all of these?”

“Most of them. Or had them read to me. My mom was a Literature teacher,” you explained. You held the book out to her. “Here.”

“Thanks, Y/N, Seohyuk will be really—” She accepted it, gently opening the clothbound front cover, and her eyes landed on the cover page. “The note…”

“Yeah, it was Hyukjun’s wedding gift to my mom,” you confirmed flatly.

“Keep it.” She immediately offered the book back to you.

“Huh?”

“It was a gift from his dad to your mother. I get why he wants it back, but it should be yours. I’ll talk to him.” She stepped forward to pick up your hand, putting the book into it. “I promise.”

You took it back with two hands, holding it to your chest. “Thank you. You really don’t have to go through the trouble.”

Chaeyeon smiled softly. “Are you busy?”

You couldn’t help your surprise, blinking at her. “Right now?”

“My nail appointment isn’t for another two hours. Would you like to get some tea?”

“Uhm, sure,” you accepted, despite Jisung’s wide, dumbfounded eyes.

Sat across from Chaeyeon in a teahouse, you blew on the surface of your steaming tea, tapping your nails against the side of your cup. Her fingers were elegantly wrapped around her cup, large diamond ring glinting from her left hand as she took a sip.

She set her tea down and gave you a sheepish smile. “I’m making you nervous.”

“Was it obvious?” You chuckled awkwardly, continuing to hold your own drink.

“You’re very tense.”

“Sorry, I guess I’m just surprised that you would ask me to get tea with you.”

“You’re family, too,” she said kindly, and you were straining your ears to try to find any hint of insincerity, sarcasm, or malice in her tone. She really seemed genuine in her sentiments.

“I think the two of us have a pretty tenuous connection there,” you pointed out.

“I know, but since your mom passed—Oh, how do I—” She fretted for a moment, unfolding and re-folding the napkin in her lap then tucking her hair behind her ear. “…Do you have anyone else?”

You had to refrain from looking at Jisung, who was occupying the spot next to you, still observing Chaeyeon closely. “Ah, no, not really.”

“Neither do I,” she confessed. “I mean, I have Seohyuk and his family, and they’re wonderful. But my own parents have passed, and my little sister, too. She would be around your age, actually.”

“I’m so sorry, Chaeyeon,” you said genuinely.

“I know we’re not related by blood, by any stretch of the imagination, but I hope we can at least be friends. If you’d like.”

“Wait, seriously?” Jisung retorted doubtfully.

You fidgeted with the starburst ring on your finger as you thought about Chaeyeon’s words. “I don’t want to be rude since you’re being so nice to me, but can I just ask—Why? Why you’re being so nice to me? I mean, I can’t imagine that Seohyuk has been saying anything good about me to you. No disrespect to your husband.”

“I’ve gathered that you all don’t get along very well…” She acquiesced. After taking another sip of her tea, she continued, “I was only able to meet my father-in-law once. Seohyuk thought we’d have plenty of time to get acquainted after the wedding.”

You winced as you put your tea down, an apology already on your tongue before you could stop it. “I’m sorry, Hyukjun asked me not to say anything to them. I-I still don’t know if I did the right thing, I can’t imagine what it was like for them…”

“There was no wrong choice, Y/N.” She reached for one of your hands. “It was a terrible, impossible situation for everyone involved. There was no decision you could’ve made that would’ve spared everyone’s feelings. It’s okay. Don’t be sorry for honoring his wish.”

You looked down at your hands on the tabletop between you two, then back up at her. “I interrupted you, sorry. Continue.”

“I only met Hyukjun one time, but he was fantastic, he really was. And Seohyuk always talks about how amazing his dad was, you can tell he was his hero—still is.” Her voice and her features held a fondness that you had never seen on display for your stepbrother before; you were genuinely stunned for a moment. “When Seohyuk and I started dating and we were talking about our families, he finally got around to the fact that his dad remarried, and his new wife has a daughter that his dad just absolutely adores. The way he said it, I thought you were a little kid at first, and then he mentioned you had a job.”

You couldn’t help but laugh along with her at this information, the first you’d ever heard of this.

“And he kept bringing it up every so often. That Hyukjun adored you and your mom,” she went on, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. “I sort of thought that if there’s this person who was apparently adored so much by the man that my husband—the man I love and adore—looked up to and loved, that I’d very much like to meet her.”

“My mom would have loved you,” you said softly, feeling your eyes fill with tears. “I mean, I know you met her at the wedding, and you were so lovely to her then, but if you had been able to really know her—God she would have loved you.”

“Oh, Y/N, I didn’t mean to make you cry!” Chaeyeon gasped, opening her purse and bringing out tissues to start dabbing at your eyes for you.

“It’s okay, really,” you assured her, letting her clean up your face anyway. “I think—I think I’m crying because you reminded me of her.”

She sat back on her feet. “Really?”

“Yeah, yeah.” You laughed, mostly at yourself you were pretty sure. Chaeyeon was absolutely beaming at you now, and you took another drink of your tea as Jisung rested a cool hand on your back. “I know you have to go to a nail appointment after this, but would you mind if I visited you and Seohyuk sometime?”

“And Seohyuk?” She repeated, obviously not expecting that.

“I have something to give him back.”

“I already told you, you should keep the book,” she insisted with a shake of her head.

“Other than the book.”

“Oh, then of course.”

“I still don’t know why you like coming to work with me,” you sighed, pulling on your jacket.

Jisung grabbed your bag for you, which had the other cabinet knobs you weren’t already wearing in it. “Do you want me to stay here?”

“I didn’t say that.” You slipped the bag onto your shoulder. “I just don’t get how sitting around watching me work at the office is any more interesting than sitting around here all day.”

“All the dishes are done, laundry’s folded, and I dare you to find a speck of dust in this house.”

“Yes, Jisung, you’re the perfect house husband,” you said, an amused smile playing across your lips as you went to unlock the front door. “Also not what we were talking about.”

He held the door open for you, following you out and waiting on the porch as you locked up. “I miss you when you’re at work. Is that so horrible?”

“No,” you chuckled, pocketing your keys and starting your journey to work. “I miss you too, Sungie.”

After your mom passed, your work had let you take as much time as you needed to both grieve and deal with your hasty change in living situation. Once you were ready, you slowly started a new hybrid schedule—coming into the office for a full day twice a week and working from home part-time the rest of the work week.

Your first stop after dropping your bag off at your cubicle was usually the breakroom. This morning, it seemed as though somebody had brought in donuts, and you spotted a familiar figure already hunched over them, carefully selecting one.

“Good morning, Sungchan,” you greeted your coworker brightly.

The tall man shot up straight, spinning around in place, his ID badge hitting him in the face in the process. He brought a hand up to grab his lanyard and lay it flat against his chest again as he gave you a crooked, breathless smile. “Oh! Morning, Y/N!”

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” you laughed, grabbing a mug from the cabinet to start on your morning cup of coffee.

“No, it’s okay, I was just so focused, I guess.” He pointed to the box behind him, “Mr. Choi brought donuts for everyone.”

“I see. What kind are you going to get?”

“I don’t know…” Sungchan sucked in air through his teeth regretfully. “They all look really good.”

“Pick two and we can split them.”

“Really?” He asked you, his big eyes shining at you.

“Really.”

“Well, which one do you want?”

“I don’t care, you pick.”

Sungchan made his selections, and carefully cut them into precise halves before letting you pick your pieces of each.

Loading your two donut halves up onto a napkin and grabbing your coffee mug, you gave him a single nod. “Pleasure doing business with you.”

“Thanks, Y/N!” He beamed. “I’ve got to go, I haven’t checked my email yet.”

“Ugh,” you wrinkled your nose at the thought. “Emails…”

Sungchan darted out of the breakroom, leaving just you and your ghost. You took a bite of one of the donut halves, washing it down with a long sip of your coffee. Average chain donut.

“I know you’re pouting, Jisung,” you hummed under your breath. “He’s new, he needs people to be nice to him.”

“I know, I don’t think you’re flirting,” Jisung replied, leaning against a wall and crossing his arms. “I think he’s going to think you are.”

“Too bad for him, then.”

Another one of your coworkers wandered in then, still yawning and rubbing sleep out of his eye. Shotaro looked around the breakroom expectantly. “Sungchan said there were donuts?”

“Only if you like sugary cardboard,” you informed him, dropping yours in the trashcan on your way out.

At your cubicle, you started your computer up, the sound of Sungchan clacking away at his keyboard on your left filling your ears. You took your own lanyard with your company ID out of your tote bag and set it on your desk. The ID gave you access to certain areas of the building, and while technically all employees were supposed to be wearing them at all times, nobody except brand-new employees actually followed that rule. Jisung sat in the chair at the empty cubicle to your right, kicking his feet up on the desk and humming to himself.

Shotaro finally joined your small pod of six desks at his spot across from you, and you noted that he didn’t have a donut with him. You tapped your fingers along to the melody that Jisung was humming.

“Hey, Shotaro, did you see that email that Ms. Kim sent?” Sungchan asked.

“Dude,” Shotaro groaned. “One—I just sat down. Two—Take some notes from Y/N, don’t check your email until 9:30. I promise, you’re going to be so much happier.”

“But it’s already 9:10, I mean—” Sungchan let out a distressed huff, running a hand through his hair. “What do you do for thirty minutes?”

“Get your coffee, fill up your water bottle, chat with people in the breakroom, chat with people by the copy machine, finish any work you didn’t get to yesterday, tidy up your desk, literally anything except open your email,” you listed off some ideas for him, just beginning to turn your own computer on.

“Why?”

“Because if I read an email before 9:30, and it pisses me off, I’m going to be pissed off all day,” you snorted. “It’s for everyone’s good.”

“I’m so glad you’re in the office now,” Shotaro sighed happily. “This is the kind of wisdom I missed out on when I started and you were still remote.”

“Yeah, you’re lucky I came back in at all.”

Jisung sat up in his seat, something clearly having caught his attention across the floor. “Be right back.”

You glanced up from your computer screen to see where he was going, and immediately spotted what he had: Two supervisors who also worked on your floor, Ms. Kim and Mr. Han, walking towards Ms. Kim’s office as they had a hushed conversation. They were at about the same rank as your supervisor, Mr. Choi, and with regards to work, there was nothing remarkable about them. They weren’t overseeing any of your projects, you really only knew of them in passing. But they had caught Jisung’s interest, and by extension, yours, because they had begun something of a will-they/won’t-they romance a couple months ago. You never encouraged Jisung’s snooping on your colleagues, but he needed to entertain himself somehow, and you made sure not to divulge anything he told you that wasn’t already part of the office gossip zeitgeist in conversation to your coworkers.

A few minutes later, Jisung was practically running back to you, narrowly darting around some of your other coworkers in his haste. You could see some of them shiver and look around in confusion at the sudden breeze that had blown by with seemingly no reason, peering up to try to find the air conditioning vent that must be around. Letting out a small sigh and keeping your eyes on your computer screen, you readjusted in your seat and scooted over to make just enough room for Jisung to hop up on your desk.

He happily squeezed in next to your keyboard, swinging his legs as he was clearly buzzing with news. “They’re finally doing it. They’re going on a date!”

“Hm.” You had to keep your reactions small, but felt a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth.

“I know! Ms. Kim is really worried because she doesn't want anybody here to think differently of her, but Mr. Han was just over the moon that she finally said yes! And you could tell that Ms. Kim was excited, too, obviously.”

You grabbed a notepad on your desk, scribbling a note to Jisung. ‘What kind of date?’

“They haven’t figured that out. Ms. Kim got a call before they could finish talking and Mr. Han left her office so she could take it,” he sighed, clearly disappointed.

‘Cliffhanger...’

“Hey, Y/N, does this email sound like, professional enough?” Sungchan asked, poking his head around your shared cubicle wall and through Jisung’s arm. Your ghost jerked his limb away from your coworker with a miffed look as you ripped the paper off your notepad and tossed it in your garbage can.

“Let me take a look,” you offered, going to scoot your chair over at the same time Jisung moved out of your way, back to his empty cubicle.

“Do you have a vent blowing right on your desk or something?” Sungchan shivered for dramatic effect. “I swear the air temperature dropped like ten degrees as soon as I crossed into your cubicle.”

“Cold spot!” Shotaro declared, his finger jabbing at the two of you from over the cubicles. His eyes followed a moment later. “What did I tell you?”

You scoffed, trying to skim the email in front of you again, “You were serious about that?”

“What? What is he talking about?” Sungchan looked between the two of you nervously.

“Shotaro thinks the office is—”

“—Our office is haunted,” Shotaro got up from his chair to lean forward and hiss dramatically, as if the alleged ghost was going to get him just for saying so.

Jisung, meanwhile, gasped and looked around with mock fear on his features. “A ghost! Where?!”

“You guys are ridiculous.” You shook your head.

“What did I do?” Sungchan pouted, obviously assuming that you were talking about him and Shotaro.

“You put a smiley face in your email, Sungchan,” you retorted, hitting the backspace with no mercy. “And you can’t end every sentence with an exclamation mark. The period button exists for a reason. Use it.”

“But I don’t want to sound mean…”

“One. You get one exclamation mark per email. And no smiley faces.”

“Okay…”

“Fine, everybody ignore Shotaro,” your other coworker threw his hands up as he fell back into his seat, letting the chair roll away from his desk before he scooted up again. “But when the ghost starts deleting important emails and writing in toner on the copy room wall that it’s going to kill us all, I will say I told you so.”

“Hey, there’s some ideas…” Jisung nodded along as if he were actually considering this. You shot him a look out of the corner of your eye.

“Your talents are wasted here, Shotaro. You should really be writing horror novels that exclusively take place in office buildings,” you told him, rolling back over to your own desk.

“Ah! Lunch break!” Jisung cheered as the two of you exited the building into the sunny, mild day.

“Yeah, you’ve been really hard at work,” you teased him under your breath, starting on the familiar path to a nearby park that you usually took your lunch at. It was typically pretty empty at this time of day, and you found that you could freely talk to Jisung there, a single headphone in for plausible deniability.

“I wish you had an office,” he sighed. “So we could actually talk to each other.”

“I used to,” you said, plopping down at a picnic table. “Before I moved in with my mom and Hyukjun, when I was still full-time in my old position.”

“Wait, really? What was your old position?”

“Mr. Choi’s position.”

“So Mr. Choi is in your office?”

You grabbed your lunch from your tote bag. “Hasn’t been my office in years. It’s his office.”

“But—Why—” Jisung frowned. “You haven’t said anything before.”

You shrugged. “Haven’t had a reason to bring it up, I guess.”

“You’re back now, though.”

“I couldn’t do that job anymore when I chose to help my mom and Hyukjun. Mr. Choi has been a great supervisor; there’s no point in them firing him just to put me back there now. I wasn’t expecting them to keep an office empty for me for years.”

Your ghost was quiet as he seemed to ponder this.

“Besides, if I had that job again, I’d have to be at the office every day,” you pointed out. “All day. No free time like I have now.”

“Oh.” His nose wrinkled as he presumably imagined what that would be like. “Mr. Choi can keep the office.”

“So are we doing bets on what sort of date—”

“Why is he here?” Jisung frowned and crossed his arms, focusing a suspicious glare behind you.

It was then that you heard footsteps approaching you, and you turned to see Mr. Choi coming down the sidewalk, seemingly not by accident as he focused a friendly smile on you as soon as you spotted him. He lifted his hand in a wave of greeting, and you returned the gesture, watching with interest as he stopped next to your picnic table.

“Hi, Y/N,” he said brightly, and you noticed a brown paper bag in his other hand. “Sorry, were you on a call?”

“Just finished.”

“Well, would you mind if I join you?”

“Not at all, Mr. Choi,” you indicated to the seat across from you.

Jisung moved from his spot with a sigh, sitting next to you instead as your supervisor sat down. Mr. Choi opened his sack lunch to bring out a bento box and small juice box, making you smile into your next bite of food.

“Cute,” you commented, pointing to the colorful vegetable slices that had been cut into star and heart shapes in one section of the container.

“My wife makes all these elaborate lunches for the kids to bring to school,” he began to explain, and though you almost expected him to be sheepish about having a childish-looking lunch, unveiling crackers in the shapes of cartoon characters, instead he just looked fond and proud. “Anything they don’t eat goes in my lunch the next day.”

“You get the scraps?” You couldn’t help but snicker.

“Yeah,” he laughed as well.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you take your lunch out of the office if it wasn’t a business lunch, Mr. Choi,” you said knowingly.

“Ah, was I obvious?” He chuckled, pulling on one of his ears nervously.

“I know you value our free time and want us to as well, so I don’t think this is work-related, right?”

“Tangentially…” The older man popped a star-shaped cucumber in his mouth. “I just… wanted to check in with you, Y/N. I hate calling people into my office for bad reasons, much less something like this. Very… confrontational.”

“I get it.” The corner of your lip twitched with a smile. “I’m alright, actually. Still taking things day by day. I miss her a lot, but it doesn’t feel like I’m… suffocating anymore.”

“Good, that’s good to hear.”

“I’m nervous, Sungie,” you admitted, taking a deep breath to try to calm your erratic heart.

“You’ll be fine, baby,” he reassured you, grabbing your hand and squeezing it gently. “You’ve dealt with him before.”

The two of you were on the way to your eldest stepbrother’s house, at the invite of his wife. Chaeyeon had reassured that Seohyuk wanted you to come over, which only knotted your stomach even more. You could deal with Seohyuk being an ass, but you weren’t used to him being… friendly. At least not without being in front of your parents.

You squeezed Jisung’s hand tighter, trying to focus on the familiar coolness of it. “I know. But what if I’m nice because I think he’s being nice, and end up revealing something that he’ll just use the next time he decides to be cruel?”

“Hey, hey, hey,” Jisung smoothed his thumb over your hand as he hushed your anxious thoughts. “You’re just returning something; nobody said you have to pour your heart out to him.”

“You’re right, you’re right.”

Double checking the address Chaeyeon sent you, you watched the house numbers go down and down until you were finally in front of 1174, your destination. You gave Jisung’s hand one last squeeze before letting it go and starting up the short driveway to their front door.

The black painted door swung open hardly a second after you had knocked, the familiar, beaming features of Chaeyeon greeting you.

“Hey, Y/N!” She threw her arms around you. “You made it!”

“Hi, Chaeyeon,” you timidly hugged her back. “Good to see you again. Thank you for inviting me over.”

“Of course, come in.” She grabbed your arm in a gentle but firm grasp, pulling you in after her. Jisung barely slipped in before she closed the door, to your amusement—he could’ve easily walked through it.

Chaeyeon had brought you into their living room, where her husband stood up from his seat on their leather couch. Seohyuk kept his hands behind his back as he nodded to you politely.

“Y/N, hello.”

“Hey, Seohyuk,” you nodded back, nearly suffocating in the tension already.

After an awkward, heavy pause, Chaeyeon piped up, bubbly as ever as she asked you, “So, you said you had something, Y/N? To give back?”

“Yeah, yeah.” You cleared your throat, reaching into your tote bag. In a small pocket separate from your cabinet knobs and other things, were two small rectangles. Taking just one more second to look at the top image, a photograph of Hyukjun when he was younger, you handed both that and the other paper out to Seohyuk.

“I found these the other day, tucked into one of my mom’s books,” you explained quietly. “I think she was using them as a bookmark.”

“What’s…” He brought out the other image from behind the first, his voice trailing off. It was his and Chaeyeon’s wedding invite, and you knew he was seeing exactly what you and your mom had seen before as he held them side by side.

“You look just like him,” Chaeyeon murmured, touching the wedding invite in awe. She looked up at you with a smile, “Thank you.”

“I don’t know what you think about my mom, or really what your guys’ relationship with her was like in your eyes,” you continued. “But to her, you were family. I wish she had been in better shape to be able to show you that, and I know she did too.”

“I’m sorry.” Seohyuk looked up from the pictures to you, a painfully sincere look on his face.

“For what?”

“I never told you that, genuinely, after your mom was diagnosed, or after she passed. I’m really sorry, for everything you’ve been through.”

You bit your bottom lip and nodded. “Me too. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about your dad’s diagnosis, even if he told me not to. It’s still… You didn’t get to prepare.”

Something distantly beeped from an adjoining room, and Chaeyeon briefly squeezed her husband’s shoulder and murmured a hushed ‘be right back’ before slipping out of the room.

“It sucked, yeah,” he admitted hoarsely. “It must’ve been hard on you, taking care of the both of them by yourself. Especially Dad, I’m sure he didn’t want anything spent on himself, he wanted everything saved up for your mom, right?”

“Yeah, the memory care aides could only do so much for late-stage lung cancer.”

“Thank you. For taking care of him and being there for him when we weren’t.” There wasn’t a trace of sarcasm or bitterness in his tone, just a honeyed warmth that nearly left you shell-shocked.

“I know you already know this, but your dad was just a really, really great guy,” you spoke past the lump in your throat as memories of your stepdad bubbled up. “I’m happy I got to know him for as long as I did. My dad died when I was young, and I didn’t have Hyukjun back then but sometimes it really felt like I did. Just felt like he’d always been there.”

“I’m sorry.” He repeated, setting the pictures down on the coffee table in front of him.

“You already said that, Seohyuk.”

“I know, but I have more stuff to apologize for.”

“Like what? Did you hire someone to secretly egg the house while I’ve been here or something?” You tepidly joked.

“No, no.” He chuckled and shook his head. “When my parents got divorced, it was good. Like, a good thing for everyone. We didn’t want our parents to get back together or anything. Our mom had boyfriends here and there, you know, but Dad never even dated. So when he, seemingly out of the blue, got married to this random woman who also had a daughter that he pretty much immediately accepted as his own, after he spent his whole life raising three sons—as I’m saying it, I can hear how asinine and juvenile this is—it felt like he was just getting himself a new family. Like we’d been replaced.”

You blinked at him, slowly nodding as you actively chose to empathize with him instead. “I’m sorry it felt like you and your brothers were pushed out. That must have hurt. Did you talk to your dad at all?”

“Not in any productive way. And really, you don’t have to apologize. I need to apologize,” he tapped his chest insistently. “We were all grown men in our twenties and thirties behaving like children because our dad was finally living his own life and getting married. It was unacceptable the way we treated you and your mom. Especially you, we were downright cruel to you sometimes, and I’m extremely sorry for that.”

“Seriously?!” Jisung finally spoke, harshly spitting the word out. “After everything they did to you? He thinks he can just—”

“I… really wasn’t expecting this when I came over. Uh, thank you.” You knew your surprise was evident on your features, there was no sense in hiding it in your words either. “I hope you don’t mind my asking… Why the change of heart?”

“My wife brought up a good point to me the other day.” He pointed to the doorway that Chaeyeon had disappeared through, a sheepish half-smile on his face. “We were jealous because Dad loved you so much. But he never loved us any less, he just always had more to give. I’d like to actually get to know his other kid that he spent his last few years with.”

“I… Me?” You pointed to yourself hesitantly.

“Yeah, you,” he laughed with a light air of teasing, though this time it didn’t feel mocking. “We were out of line at Dad’s wake. Of course you two were his family, anybody could see that. I’m sorry for all that, too.”

“He did so much more—”

“Thanks, Seohyuk,” you cut Jisung’s angry ramble off, offering your stepbrother a calm, genuine smile.

Seohyuk let out a sudden, loud, raucous sneeze, throwing his elbow up to catch it as he turned away from you.

You snickered fondly. “You sneeze like him.”

“I do?”

“Yeah.”

“I never noticed…” He lowered his elbow slowly. “Does that mean that I sneeze like a dad?”

“Don’t worry, I do t—”

Something had tickled your nose just then, and you were cut off by the both of you sneezing, nearly identical in volume.

Chaeyeon poked her head back in then, “My God, was that a grenade or you two sneezing?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, Seohyuk giving a couple airy chuckles too.

He gestured to the room where Chaeyeon was, “It’s almost dinner, would you stay and eat with us?”

“I have plans tonight,” you informed him, already thinking of the movies that you and Jisung were going to watch when you got back home.

“Another night? If you want to, no hurt feelings if you’d rather not—I haven’t made myself seem very appealing to hang out with.”

You contemplated this a moment. Your ghost took your pause as an opportunity to let you know his opinion, a loud sigh from behind you. You nodded, “…I could do next week—Monday.”

“Monday!” Seohyuk repeated enthusiastically, clapping his hands once. “Yes, Monday, we can do that. I get home from work at six, uhm, Chaeyeon, will you have appointments that afternoon?”

“Nothing after three.” Chaeyeon’s eyes were sparkling in the warm light from the nearby stylish floor lamp.

“I work in the mornings on Mondays,” you said. “What time should I arrive?”

“Seven? Yeah, dinner should be ready by then,” Seohyuk talked himself through it, flitting his wide, hopeful smile between you and Chaeyeon.

“Or you can get here closer to five and we can hang out first,” Chaeyeon offered to you.

“Or that too!”

“I’ll have some errands to run, seven will probably be the best…” You were still wary of spending so much time here at once.

“Seven it is,” Seohyuk confirmed fervently.

“Why’d you say yes?” Jisung questioned as you pulled a blanket over your laps later that night.

“Mm?” You hummed inquisitively, settling into the corner of the couch. “To dinner at Seohyuk and Chaeyeon’s?”

“Yeah. He was terrible to you, baby. Why even bother?”

You continued humming thoughtfully this time as you tried to piece together all your errant sentiments and feelings about it. “Because he’s making an effort, so I want to, too. And it’s like I said before, Sungie… I’m just tired of fighting with him. It’s so exhausting holding onto all that.”

He was still pouting thoughtfully, brow furrowed. You nudged his side teasingly, “Besides, I’ve got you to hold all my grudges for me.”

Your ghost’s face relaxed just in the slightest as he pulled you closer to plant a kiss on your cheek. “Well, I still don’t forgive him. On your behalf or mine.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.” He rested his head in the crook of your shoulder, wrapping his arms around your waist. “Worst six months of my life or afterlife without you.”

You leaned back against the arm of the couch to let him sprawl out on top of you, running a hand through his hair. “That’s fair, I suppose. But I don’t think I can really ask him to apologize to you.”

“He already believes the house is haunted, I bet you could get him on another Ouija board,” he mumbled. “Say you heard a weird noise or something.”

“You really want him back in our house so soon?” You laughed, still playing with his hair.

“No,” he huffed.

“Are you ready to pick the first movie yet or are you still sulking?”

“A couple more minutes…”

You were rushing. You were running late this morning, somehow, and it was only when you got to your bus stop that you realized you’d forgotten your tote bag.

“Whew! Right on time, huh, Sungie?” You looked around breathless at the empty bus stop. Too empty. Jisung wasn’t there, and he didn't pop up like he normally did if he wasn't immediately visible. Then you realized the distinct lack of weight on your shoulder.

“Shit!” You patted your pockets fervently for any spare knobs. You didn't even have your ring or bracelet, having taken your jewelry off in order to shower this morning. Just as you were contemplating running back for Jisung, your bus pulled up, and your decision was made for you. He would just have to stay home today.

Walking into work, you felt weirdly lonely, despite your two desk buddies immediately finding you when you arrived on your floor.

“Y/N!” Sungchan’s head was easily visible over the other personnel around him.

Shotaro was in tow, of course, and they fell into step on either side of you. “Y/N! Yes!”

“Good morning?” You squinted at them. “Is it? Should I be concerned as to why you’re so energetic this early?”

“Shotaro thinks—”

“Dude!” Shotaro scolded Sungchan, reaching behind you to smack him on the shoulder. “Tact? Hello?!”

“Oh, I would love to see how you’re going to do this with tact,” Sungchan scoffed back.

“So I should be concerned,” you surmised dryly, heading straight for the breakroom.

“No! I’m just glad you’re back!” Shotaro said brightly. “Because I have a theory.”

“About?”

“The office ghost.”

You held his eye contact for a silent moment before turning back to making your coffee.

“Listen, I swear, our office is haunted. And I think the ghost has a crush on you or something.”

You squinted at him, taking a slow sip of your coffee. “…What?”

“Well, I started keeping a tally every time something spooky happened for the past month—”

“Oh God, okay,” you sighed and rubbed your face.

“And I noticed a pattern. There’s pretty much no spooky stuff that happens on Tuesdays and Fridays. When you’re not here!”

“Maybe the ghost only works part-time, too,” you snorted.

“Listen, I’m telling you, something’s going to happen today now that you’re back,” Shotaro declared.

“Alright, whatever.” You shook your head. It being this early in the morning was bad enough, but you were going to have to go the whole day without Jisung, which meant it’d be dreadfully boring as well.

Back at your desk, you unlocked your computer and avoided your email, instead pulling up a report that you had been working on for the last few weeks. After putting the finishing touches on it, you sent off copies to the printer, and slowly stood up. You’d have to present it at a meeting right after lunch today, which was why you couldn’t try to sprint back home on your break to fetch Jisung—that would risk being tardy for your meeting.

In the vacant copy room, you leaned against the wall next to the machine printing off your report, crossing your arms over your chest and closing your eyes. Stupid presentation. One of the best parts of working remote was no longer having to present to a conference room full of people on your work. Now you didn’t even have Jisung here to cheer you on. You wondered how your ghost was faring home alone. You were sure he was keeping himself busy like he did before the two of you ever met—reading books, watching TV. Maybe he was even working in the garden in the backyard. The two of you had been working on livening up Hyukjun’s flower beds again after they’d been poorly tended to for so long while you were gone.

You let out a huff. You’d so much rather be home with Jisung in your garden, or at least have him here with you.

“Mm?” A confused noise came from elsewhere in the room, and you immediately opened your eyes and looked over towards the doorway, expecting to see one of your coworkers there coming to make copies of their own. But the door was still closed. Quickly looking around the room, you realized that you weren’t alone, though.

Jisung was looking around the room equally bewildered. You blinked at him in disbelief.

“Y/N? Baby?” He stepped towards you. “I thought you forgot all the knobs?”

“I did…” You whispered, reaching out to wipe some dirt off his cheek. “How…?”

“I don’t know.” He took your hand, rubbing circles into your palm with his thumb. “I was in the backyard weeding and then I was here.”

Remembering when you first experimented with bringing him out of the house with the cabinet knobs, you asked, “How’s your head?”

“Fine.”

Someone turned the doorknob to the copy room then, and you dropped your hand from Jisung’s, turning back towards the printer that you were waiting on. Shotaro entered with some papers, heading towards another machine to start making copies.

“Hey, is it just me, or is it way colder in here than normal?” Your coworker questioned.

“Huh?” You hadn’t even noticed.

“It’s normally the hottest room in the building, especially with the printers going—” He gestured to the machines that you two were standing at. “But I’ve got goosebumps.”

“Maybe they finally fixed the A/C in here?”

Shotaro squinted up at the ceiling panels. “I don’t think there’s a vent…”

“Maybe you’re sick.”

“Office ghost,” he declared triumphantly. “What did I tell you? You’re back, the ghost is back. It likes you.”

Jisung giggled at this as you rolled your eyes, trying to suppress your fond smile for your ghost.

“Or maybe it hates me and that’s why it’s only haunting me specifically,” you suggested sarcastically, making Jisung laugh even harder. “Have you ever—”

“Shh!” Shotaro suddenly cut you off harshly, glancing around wildly.

“What?” You looked around too, wondering what exactly he was doing. Jisung had also stopped laughing at the sudden shift in tone, also peering around curiously.

“Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?”

“I swear, I just heard a guy laughing,” Shotaro insisted.

Suppressing your panic, you coolly offered a solution, “You probably did. The walls are really thin here.”

“It didn’t sound like anybody who works here.”

“You know how everybody in this building laughs?”

Shotaro’s face fell, and you felt a little bad for raining on the guy’s parade. “Well, no…”

Your reports had finished printing, and you grabbed all the papers from the tray, securing them in your arms. Patting your office friend on the shoulder, you gave him the best words of encouragement that you could in the moment, “I’m sure the office ghost like you too, Shotaro.”

Jisung nodded solemnly, opting not to say anything this time as he followed you out. You opened the door widely, pretending to struggle with the stack of papers in your arms for a moment so that your ghost could slip out with you. With Shotaro apparently hearing him for a second, you didn’t trust that there wasn’t some slim chance that he could accidentally get clipped by it somehow.

You toured around your floor of the office, dropping off copies of the report to each employee who would be attending the meeting so they could review it beforehand. Jisung silently shadowed you until you had dropped off all your copies except one and ended up in a newer part of the floor with rows of empty conference rooms. You ducked into one, locking the door behind you.

“How did you get here?” You kept your voice just above a whisper, patting down your pockets again, just in case you had a cabinet knob or spare piece of foundation or something that you had somehow forgotten about in there. Nothing, of course. “And did Shotaro just hear you?!”

“I don’t know!” Jisung threw his hands up, then grimaced. “Maybe?!”

“Keep your voice down!” You reminded him emphatically, gesturing for him to calm down.

He slapped a hand over his mouth with a sheepish wince, immediately switching to an even quieter whisper than yours, “Sorry… Not used to whispering.”

“I know.” You leaned against the wall, pursing your lips thoughtfully. “What exactly were you doing before you showed up here?”

“Weeding, like I said.”

“Wait, you had dirt on your face. You never get dirty.”

Jisung looked down at his hands, as if expecting to see them caked with even more dirt. They were clean, but that did nothing to help the uneasy feeling growing in you.

“It didn’t feel like when I would get yanked home.” Your ghost scrunched his nose thoughtfully. “When we were still figuring out the knobs and stuff. I mean, my head feels fine.”

“What about when I bring you with me usually?”

“No, it’s like…” He sighed as he couldn’t seem to find the right words, and switched trains of thought. “What were you doing? Before I showed up?”

“Exactly what you saw me doing. Waiting for my stuff to print,” you shrugged. “And thinking about how much I missed you, I guess.”

“Yeah, that’s what it was like.”

“Like what?”

“I got this feeling like someone had called my name, but I didn’t hear anything.”

You sighed and checked the time. “I need to get ready for my presentation this afternoon. You’ve got to stay quiet today, Sungie. I’m sorry.”

“I understand.” He nodded. “I’ll be on my best behavior.”

“For once,” you teased, pecking his cheek.

Your presentation went over fine, and after, you headed for Mr. Choi’s office, knocking on the open door to get his attention.

“Ah, Y/N, come in,” he waved you in with a smile. “How can I help you?”

“Hi, Mr. Choi.” you offered a faint smile back. “Uhm, I’m not feeling very well. I just wanted to see if I could leave early today?”

“You did look a little distracted during your presentation.” He nodded sympathetically. “Yes, go rest. And if you need to stay offline tomorrow, by all means, please do.”

“Thanks.”

Rushing to close out your programs and turn your computer off, you gave Shotaro and Sungchan hasty goodbyes before fleeing the building, Jisung on your heels.

“How do you feel?” You checked in with him quietly as you speedwalked down the sidewalks.

“Fine. Good.” He kept his voice down.

The two of you were silent until you made it home, where you grabbed your bag from the hook by the front door and took it into the living room, dumping the contents onto the floor. Immediately, you picked out the six that you kept stored in there. You jumped to your feet to run up the stairs and into your bathroom, where the other two were sitting exactly where you left them on the sink. Taking them back downstairs to show Jisung, you dropped back down to your knees to set all eight together, letting out a sigh. You knew you didn’t have any with you today, but the whole time that you were at work, there was still some non-zero chance that maybe you just hadn’t checked your pockets well enough, maybe one was somewhere, you couldn’t be absolutely sure until you saw it with your own eyes. And now you did.

“What the hell is going on?” You whispered.

“Try going down the street?” Jisung suggested. “Without anything?”

You held your hands up to show that you weren’t holding anything as you left the house—alone—and began walking down the street. You were far out of the lay lines of the property, at the end of the block, when Jisung popped up next to you.

You stared at him in shock. He stared back.

“Did you do that on purpose?” You asked. “At all?”

“I don’t know. Did you?”

“How would I have done that?”

He shrugged. “How would I?”

“It can’t be my clothes or anything, I just got like this whole outfit in the past couple months,” you huffed, still trying to brainstorm.

“Y/N, I think—” Jisung looked at you with wide eyes. “I think it’s you. I think I’m connected to you somehow.”

“I’m home!” The words were hardly out of your mouth when Jisung popped into the foyer.

He looked startled, barely sticking the landing as his head whipped around, a book in his hand. Your ghost let out a huff as he found his footing, closing the book on his thumb. “I wish you’d stop doing that. I was upstairs reading.”

“Sorry, Sungie.” You pecked his cheek, hanging your bag up. “I’m not trying, honest.”

Jisung’s annoyance quickly faded as he leaned down to kiss you. “I know, baby. I’m not mad, it just spooks me every time.”

“A ghost getting spooked,” you repeated humorously, walking further into your house.

“I’ll start on dinner.”

“Oh!” You stopped at the bottom of the stairs. “Chaeyeon called me on my way home and asked if they could drop the baby off, by the way. Apparently Seohyuk has a last-minute work thing and they couldn’t find anybody else to watch her.”

“Ah. Okay.”

After getting out of your work clothes, you found Jisung in the kitchen again, wrapping your arms around his waist and pressing your cheek to his back. “Thank you. I know it’s got to suck being here alone all day and then having people come over.”

Since the debacle with Shotaro hearing Jisung at work, you’d been erring on the side of caution and leaving Jisung home when you went to work. It made your days lonelier, and you knew he hated it too, but it was just too hard to bring him out to the same place over and over like that. Especially when you had a paranoid coworker quite literally ghost-hunting constantly.

On top of that, you hadn’t had to bring a single cabinet knob with you anywhere in order to bring Jisung along in the time since, seemingly confirming his suspicions. He was no longer anchored to the house.

“I haven’t met the baby yet,” his voice sounded like he was forcing pep into it. “I’m looking forward to it.”

When Chaeyeon had given birth, you visited the new parents and baby at their house, leaving your ghost at home for the brief meet-up. This would be the first time the family came to your place.

“They’re not staying, at least,” you reminded him. “Chaeyeon and Seohyuk. They’re just dropping SooSoo off and then picking her up after.”

“How long is she going to be here for?”

“A few hours. Don’t worry, I’ll hold her,” you teased.

Jisung snorted lightly, continuing to chop the food. “Good idea.”

Your ghost stayed upstairs while Chaeyeon and Seohyuk brought SooSoo in, handing her and all her supplies off to you. After giving you the rundown of all the basics, they rushed back out with final goodbye pecks on the cheek to both of you. You laughed and waved them off, shutting the door behind the couple.

Upon hearing the front door close, you saw Jisung hesitantly peeking down the stairs. You chuckled, “Coast is clear, Jisung.”

“I can’t believe that’s really him.” He shook his head, taking the baby’s bag off your shoulder for you.

“Who, Seohyuk?”

“Yeah,” he confirmed. “He was like… nice to you. Actually nice.”

“I keep telling you he’s been trying.” You walked into the living room, gently bouncing SooSoo in your arms.

“You’re good with her,” Jisung said, coming to stand next to you.

“You think so?” You beamed, playing with the baby’s tiny fingers. “This is the first one I’ve held.”

“Do you—” He cut himself off, staring at SooSoo with wide eyes. He slowly moved to the left, then the right. You watched his movements with confusion. He looked at you, disbelief clear on his face. “Can the baby see me?”

“What?” You looked down at her, seeing that it did appear as though her eyes were focused on a spot in the air over your shoulder where Jisung was. He moved to the right, and the baby’s eyes tracked him. He then moved to your left shoulder, and they once again followed. She continued watching him as he shifted back to hovering over your right shoulder, and you were really beginning to think that this wasn’t a coincidence.

You furrowed your brow. “Huh…”

Jisung clapped his hands directly in front of her face, and she flinched and blinked.

“Okay, okay,” you chastised him, pushing his hands away from her face. “This didn’t happen when the Kims were little, did it? It’s not like a ‘kids can see ghosts better’ thing, right?”

“No, they had no clue I was there. Babies, children, adults. Nobody ever did this.”

“Looks like you’ve got an imaginary friend, SooSoo,” you chuckled, gently tapping the tip of her nose.

“I’m not imaginary, just incorporeal,” he scoffed, but nevertheless reached around you to adjust her blanket for her.

“Do you think it has something to do with everything else?” You asked quietly. “Shotaro heard you, we don’t need the knobs anymore, now SooSoo can see you…”

“I don’t know.”

“Right. No ghost manual.”

Jisung stayed put as you sat down on the couch, readjusting the baby in your lap. You didn’t love the pensive look still on his features, especially when he didn’t seem to notice you patting the spot next to you in an invite for him to join you.

“Sungie?” You called for him quietly. “Everything okay?”

“I was thinking…” He looked at SooSoo, then held your gaze, obviously conflicted. “Do you want kids someday?”

“Oh.” You knew exactly where his mind had gone. “I-I don’t know. Definitely not right now—”

“But in the future—”

“I said I don’t know, Jisung,” you reiterated. “But what I absolutely do know, is that I love you. Okay? Can that be enough for now?”

“Okay. Yeah.” He nodded, finally joining you on the couch, wrapping an arm around your waist and pressing a kiss to your cheek. “I love you too.”

Chaeyeon and Seohyuk finally came back long after SooSoo had gone to sleep, and just before you were about to follow her lead, nodding off in a corner of the couch. Jisung stopped gently rocking the baby’s carseat when the doorbell rang, shaking your shoulder to make sure you were fully awake. You nodded, reluctantly getting to your feet as he wordlessly took off upstairs. Opening the front door, you greeted the couple, covering your mouth as a yawn escaped. You all chatted about the event as they gathered their daughter and the baby bag from the floor in front of the couch.

Chaeyeon parted the blankets around SooSoo, then rooted around through the bag that was on her husband’s shoulder. “Did she have her pink elephant when she came? I thought she did, but I don’t see it…”

“Oh, yeah, yeah.” You peered around your living room, unable to see the stuffed animal as well. “I think it might be in my room, hold on.” You held up a finger for them to wait a moment, heading for the stairs.

Jisung was already on the ground with his head and arm under the bed when you walked in. You lightly pushed the door closed behind you as he scooted back out, victoriously holding a small, pink, stuffed elephant above his head.

“Thank you, Sungie,” you said quietly, reaching out for the toy. Except he jerked it out of your reach at the last second, holding it above his head with a teasing glint in his eye. You narrowed your eyes at him, continuing to whisper, “I don’t have time for this.”

“Alright, alright,” he snickered, setting the elephant down in your waiting palm. He used his other hand to grab your wrist, pulling you closer and pecking your forehead.

You looked up, leaning in to kiss him when you heard the creak of a floorboard right outside your bedroom door.

“You need some help in—?” Seohyuk cut his own question short as he knocked on your slightly ajar door, causing it to swing open. “Oh, sorry, I didn’t realize you had company…”

You froze, staring between the two of them as you realized that Seohyuk’s gaze was focused directly on Jisung. Immediately, you panicked, reeling back from your ghost as you tried to stay calm, process what the hell was going on, and manage the real-life façade of whatever Seohyuk must be thinking. The further you stepped away from Jisung, the more certain you were that Seohyuk could see him, his eyes flicking between the two of you very deliberately.

“Oh, no, it’s fine, uhm, Seohyuk, this is… my friend Jisung. I told him he could stop by whenever to borrow a book, I didn’t realize…” You trailed off awkwardly, scratching the back of your neck as you shuffled even further away from your ghost.

It was Jisung’s turn to look at you incredulously, clearly upset now at being introduced as your ‘friend.’ You cleared your throat awkwardly, gesturing between them. “Jisung, this is my brother Seohyuk.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Seohyuk flashed him a brilliant smile as he offered a hand for him to shake.

You watched with bated breath as Jisung seemed to debate doing this for a moment, then took it. To your relief and bewilderment, Jisung’s hand didn’t go through Seohyuk’s, and they shook… normally.

Seohyuk then pointed at the elephant in your hand. “Ellie and I will see you downstairs, Y/N.”

You meekly held the toy out for him to take without another word. He headed out of the room, and you nearly collapsed as soon as he was out of your sight. But you didn’t have time for that yet.

“I’m sorry, just go to the pond, I’ll come get you when they’re gone, okay?” You told Jisung in a hushed voice before he could voice any of his complaints at being called your friend, surprise at Seohyuk seeing him, or anything else. You had to get your family out of the house first.

He let out a short sigh, but nodded. “Alright, alright.”

You walked him down the stairs and to the front door, keeping a polite amount of distance between you two, well aware of the two pairs of eyes watching you from the living room. Opening the front door, you gave Jisung a courteous nod. “Alright, uh, bye, Jisung.”

“Yeah, uhm, goodnight, Y/N.” His eyes darted between you and over your shoulder, and you could tell it was taking everything in him not to habitually kiss you goodbye.

“Nice to meet you, Jisung!” Seohyuk called out from the living room.

“Uh, yeah, you too!” He replied, giving a final wave over his shoulder before departing.

You nearly slammed the door shut behind him, taking a deep breath in to calm yourself down before turning around.

Seohyuk grinned at you as you walked back into the living room. “Friend, huh?”

“Oh my God, shut up.”

“I’m just saying… he didn’t leave with a book.”

“Oh, you’re the worst!” You huffed as he burst into laughter.

Chaeyeon shook her head, handing SooSoo’s carseat to her husband.

“I swear, you two bicker like real siblings now,” she commented, wrapping an arm around your shoulders protectively. “Seohyuk, leave her alone.”

“What? You didn’t see them, Chae, it was—”

“Drop it.”

“Fine, fine.” He held his free hand up, still with the same shit-eating grin.

“We’re going to get out of your hair now, hon,” Chaeyeon declared, squeezing your arm. She then looked at Seohyuk pointedly.

After giving the three of them your final goodbyes at the door, you closed it and locked it up behind them before dashing to the front window. Through a small crack between two blinds, you watched them load up Seohyuk’s new, sensible SUV before pulling away from the curb. Once you were certain they would be several streets away, you threw on a pair of shoes and ran out the door. Despite how dark it was, you knew the way to the pond by heart.

When you first entered the clearing, you couldn’t see your ghost, and your heart jumped to your throat. You took out your phone, shining the flashlight around everywhere. “Jisung?!” You cried out.

“Right here.” He appeared in front of you. “That still works, apparently.”

“God, what the hell just happened?!” You took his hand, marching back home with him in tow.

“I don’t know.”

“I mean, Seohyuk not only could hear you, but see you and touch you?!”

“I know.”

“What the fuck is going on?!”

“I don’t know.”

You lifted his hand that you were hold up, shining your flashlight directly on it. He didn’t look or feel any different—cool to the touch, and he had always had some color to him. With your fast, anxious pace, it didn’t take you long to get back home, dragging him back inside.

Just in the foyer, you stopped and indicated for him to stay right there. Holding up your phone with the camera open, you took a picture of Jisung without even looking at the screen. The suspense didn’t last long, as you swiped to view the image, nearly dropping your phone in shock. Instead of the normal shadowy glitch in frame, your ghost was staring right back, his dark eyes wide open as he looked past the camera directly at you.

You wordlessly turned the phone around to show him. He reached out towards the screen, then pulled his hand back, resting his index finger in the center of his chest.

“Th-That’s me?” He asked hesitantly. “Right?”

“Yeah, Sungie,” you replied hoarsely. “That’s you.”

“What the hell is happening?”

You bit your lip and shook your head. “I don’t know. I don’t fucking know.”

“Do you feel okay?” Jisung asked abruptly.

“Huh?” You hurried to swallow the bite of food that you had just taken. “Yeah, Sungie, I feel fine. It’s not that hot yet.”

You had taken advantage of the cool spring day to do some much-needed weeding in the gardens, and were taking a break to eat the lunch that Jisung had just made for you. He took a sip of his lemonade before setting the cup down on the porch step beside him. Another new development: he could eat and drink now. He wasn’t necessarily hungry or thirsty like you, but he enjoyed food again.

“I don’t mean the weather, I mean—” He ran a hand through his hair as he took a minute to try to piece his words together. “All this that’s been happening. I’m definitely tied to you now, not the house. But I don’t want… to be… taking anything from you. Your soul, or life force, or whatever. I don’t know what’s going on, but if you feel any worse for it, then—”

“No, God, no,” you reassured him, putting your plate aside to scoot closer to him and wrap an arm around him. “I feel just fine, I promise.”

“Would you tell me if it was making you feel worse?”

“I would tell you if I didn’t feel good, yes, but whether or not that would hypothetically be connected is an entirely different question.”

He sighed, wringing his hands between his knees. “I’m just worried, Y/N. And scared. I don’t know what’s happening to us and I don’t like that.”

“I don’t like not knowing either,” you agreed quietly. “But it’s not hurting me, okay? And it’s not hurting you—Well, other than when you stubbed your toe the other day.”

“How was I supposed to know it was going to do that?” He whined, grabbing his foot through his shoe.

Yet another new thing—Jisung could feel physical pain again. Before, the only sort of harm he would come into was his headaches if he was going from the house for too long and got pulled back. Now, if he wasn’t careful to go through an object, he could hurt himself on it just like you. Bruise and all.

“Shotaro misses you, by the way,” you informed him. “He was lamenting the lack of office ghost activity lately.”

“Funny enough, I kinda miss him too,” Jisung admitted. “It’s so boring being stuck here all day now.”

“Mr. Choi put another dinner on our calendars next week, you know…” You said cautiously. “Do you want to come?”

He blinked at you. “Like… on purpose?”

“Yeah, it’s open to significant others too. We’re pretty certain everyone can see you now,” you reminded him, thinking of all the cashiers, strangers in public, and neighbors that had interacted with Jisung at this point.

“I—Yes, okay,” he agreed happily, looking down at his lap.

“Good, you’ll need lots of practice.”

“Practice for what?!”

“SooSoo’s birthday party next month.”

Down the street from the restaurant that you were supposed to meeting your coworkers at, you stopped Jisung on the sidewalk. Fixing his collar, you reminded him, “Okay, Sungie, remember, you’ve never met these people before. You can’t say stuff that you’re not supposed to know.”

“I know, I know,” he huffed, but stayed still as you messed with his hair too.

“How long have we been dating?”

“Three years.”

“Where did we meet?”

“The library.”

“What do you do for a living?”

“I’m a… freelance… graphic designer…?” He answered uncertainly, watching your face with each syllable.

“You have got to be more convincing than that.”

“I barely understand what that is!” He replied indignantly. “What if they ask me questions?”

“You just have to say that your clients make you sign NDAs so you can’t say anything about your projects!” You said. “Or pick a different job, I don’t know! Something that’s easy to talk around. I just don’t want you getting asked questions that are hard to answer.”

He shook his head. “This was a bad idea. I shouldn’t have come.”

“No, you’re my boyfriend and I want to introduce you to my coworkers.” You took his hand, lacing your fingers together. “I want you here. I’m not going to keep you locked up forever.”

Jisung took a deep breath, squeezing your hand tight. “Alright, okay. Let’s do it.”

Pushing the door open, you immediately spotted the table of your coworkers in the corner, waving to them as you walked over. Mr. Choi stood up to greet you, giving you a one-armed hug. His wife stood up as well, kissing your cheek.

“So good to see you, sweetheart.” She was absolutely beaming as she drew back and moved her expectant gaze to Jisung next to you.

You inhaled, starting the introductions. “This is my boyfriend, Jisung. Jisung, this is my supervisor, Mr. Choi, and his wife, Dahyun.”

Mr. Choi shook Jisung’s hand, broad grin on his face. “Nice to meet you.”

“You too, sir,” Jisung coughed over the crack in his voice, giving him the best bow that he could in the cramped space of the restaurant.

You were the last ones to arrive, and Sungchan thankfully scooted over to make room for you at the very end. Hastily doing introductions between everyone, you then started looking over the menu with Jisung.

“So, what do you do, Jisung?” Sungchan asked from your other side, taking a sip of his drink.

“Oh, I’m uh, I’m a freelance…” Your ghost trailed off, and you squeezed his knee under the table to think of something fast before you would have to. “Photographer! Sorry, this menu just looks so good, I zoned out. I’m a photographer, yeah.”

Well, not the worst choice in the world.

Shotaro perked up from across the table. “Oh! Do you help Y/N with all those crazy pictures she posts?”

Jisung nodded hastily, latching onto the life preserver that your coworker had unknowingly thrown him. “Yes, yes I do.”

“They’re really cool,” Sungchan complimented him. “Is it all photo editing or is some of the effect practical?”

You looked over at your ghost to gauge if he was going to need your help on this one. He was frozen as he was clearly wracking his brain for how to answer, so you decided to swoop in.

“Some of it’s practical,” you answered for him. “But it’s a proprietary technique so he really can’t say much more than that…”

Sungchan held his hands up in surrender. “Ah, okay.”

“Do you have your own account?” Shotaro asked eagerly, bringing his phone out. “She never tags anyone.”

“So stingy with the credit,” Sungchan clicked his tongue and shook his head.

“No, I don’t,” Jisung hastily replied. “I’m not really into that sort of stuff…”

“How do you get clients then? If you’re a freelancer but you don’t have social media?”

“Well…”

Seeing that he was panicking again, you smoothly took over, “Word of mouth. He’s just that good.”

Your coworkers seemed both impressed and satisfied, nodding to themselves and each other. “Cool, cool.”

As a waiter came around to start taking everyone’s orders, you patted Jisung’s leg under the table, reassuring him that he’d passed the first part of the gauntlet. He grabbed your hand, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles.

As soon as the front door clicked shut behind you, Jisung let out a guttural groan, sinking to the floor against the hallway wall. He dropped his face into his hands, shaking his head.

“How do you do it?” He bemoaned.

“Do what?” You chuckled, hanging your purse up.

“Talk to that many people for so long.”

“Aw, my poor introverted ghost.” You pouted sympathetically, squatting down in front of him.

“I had friends when I was alive. A bunch. I saw them all the time. Every day!”

“Death changed you, Sungie.”

“Ugh…”

You stroked his hair. “So, do you not want to go to SooSoo’s birthday party? It’s fine if you don’t, I haven’t told them I’m bringing a guest yet, I was waiting to see how tonight went.”

Jisung lifted his head up just enough to rest his chin in his palms, squishing his cheeks up. “No, I had fun. I just… need to get used to people again. I’m not used to having to talk to people who aren’t you. I want to go to the birthday party with you. Especially since those people will be there.”

“I’m glad you had fun.” You smiled, gently tweaking his cheek. “Rule one, you can’t call them ‘those people.’ At least not to their face.”

“Fine.”

“Ready, baby?” Jisung asked as you turned the corner onto Seohyuk and Chaeyeon’s street.

“Mhm,” you responded, looking over at him skeptically. “Are you ready?”

“They’re family,” he replied seriously.

You snickered, leaning over to peck his cheek. “I almost believed you, Sungie. Good job.”

“Just don’t leave me alone with Hyukjun’s ex-wife,” he begged, breaking his facade.

“I won’t, I won’t,” you assured him. “Seohyuk says his mom’s been going to AA, though, and Joohyuk has been in anger management counseling ever since his wife left him, and that Minhyuk has totally mellowed out after experiencing empathy for the first time when he tried ayahuasca in Peru last month. So who knows, they might be better.”

“What a family,” he scoffed. “Can’t believe you’re dating a ghost and you’re like, the most normal one.”

“Debatable.”

“Okay, one of the most normal ones.”

You nodded towards the approaching house. “Get it out of your system now, there’s the front door.”

A serene smile spread across his face. “I’m done, and I’m perfectly nice now and will not bring any of that up for the rest of the afternoon.”

You had barely finished knocking when the front door swung open, Seohyuk on the other side. Your stepbrother immediately went to hug you. “Hey, Y/N. Glad you could make it.”

“Hi, Seohyuk. Wouldn’t miss it.” You patted his back. “Can’t believe she’s a year old already.”

“I know,” he sighed wistfully. Letting you go, he turned to Jisung, mischievous glint in his eye. “I’m Seohyuk, Y/N’s brother. Jisung, right?”

“Yes, it’s great to see you again.” Your ghost accepted his handshake.

You mouthed ‘cool it’ over Seohyuk’s shoulder at Jisung’s way too enthusiastic greeting, and he immediately reworked his expression, relaxing his face a bit more. Seohyuk stepped back and gestured you two inside, closing the door behind you. He guided you further in, pointing to where Jisung could put down the gift bag he had been carrying.

Chaeyeon spotted you from where she had been chatting with a few other guests, excusing herself before darting over to you, throwing her arms around your neck. “Y/N!”

“Chaeyeon!” You laughed, hugging her back. “We just got tea last week.”

“Yes, I know. Doesn’t mean I can’t be excited to see you now.”

You turned around to where Jisung was awkwardly standing a couple steps behind you and latched onto his arm, dragging him over. “Chaeyeon, this is my boyfriend Jisung. Jisung, this is my sister-in-law Chaeyeon.”

She was absolutely cheesing as she turned to Jisung, stacking both hands over her chest as she was trying to contain her excitement. “Can I hug you? You can say no, I’m a hugger, but it’s fine, I totally get it.”

“Uhm yeah?” Jisung agreed before nearly being bowled over by Chaeyeon. “Oh!”

You covered your hand in an attempt to stifle your laugh. The hug was fleeting, as Chaeyeon let him go and grabbed your arm again, her face turning serious. She leaned in, lowering her voice conspiratorially, and you had to strain your ears to hear her over the noise of all the other partygoers and children playing.

“Okay, so drinks are in the kitchen—no alcohol since Jieun is recovering, you know. We didn’t think it was necessary since it’s a kid’s birthday anyway. You already know, don’t ask Joohyuk where his wife is. And Minhyuk… for your own sake, don’t ask about his trip to South America unless you want to hear him talk about the spiritual benefits of psychedelics for two hours straight,” she debriefed you quietly. “Here, I’ll introduce you guys to some of my friends from the mom pilates class that I attend; they’re cool, I promise!”

With that, Chaeyeon took off, leaving you to catch up. You grabbed Jisung’s hand, chuckling as you followed after your sister-in-law.

Later in the party found you sat on the couch, chatting with two of Chaeyeon’s mom-ilates friends. Jisung emerged from the kitchen where he had been getting plates of food for the both of you, looking flustered as he dropped into the empty spot next to you.

“Finally,” you commented, accepting your plate from him. “What took you so long? Was there a line for the pretzels?”

“Minhyuk cornered me,” he groaned, covering his face with one hand. “I didn’t even ask about Peru, I told him you were waiting but that just made it worse. As soon as I brought you up, he started saying something about how when he was tripping, he realized how terrible they all were to you, and he started crying? I really don’t think he’s okay, like mentally…”

You let out a sputtering laugh, rubbing Jisung’s shoulder sympathetically. “Sounds rough, Sungie.”

“Leechan!” One of the moms suddenly barked out her son’s name, shooting to her feet. She shot you an annoyed look before stomping off to grab a boy from a tussle that had broken out.

The other mom that had been with you let out a sigh as she calmly finished her last bite of cake before setting her plate down and getting up as well. “Ryujin! That’s it! We’re going!”

“Remember how you asked me if I wanted kids?” You asked Jisung quietly, making sure to turn your head so only he heard you.

“Mhm?” His voice wavered.

“Yeah, no,” you scoffed. “I’ll be Aunt Y/N for the rest of my life, thanks.”

He snickered, rubbing your back. “That’s—”

Jisung suddenly froze, his eyes going wide and snapping down to the floor in front of the couch. You looked down to see what had startled him, immediately spotting your niece clambering over his feet and attempting to climb up his legs.

“SooSoo, your Uncle Jisung is not a jungle gym,” Seohyuk chastised his daughter lightly, scooping her up in his arms.

The toddler giggled, babbling as she still reached her chubby little arms out towards your ghost.

“Do you want to hold her?” Your stepbrother offered.

Jisung looked at you hesitantly. You chuckled, reaching for his plate on his lap. “Do you, Sungie? It’s okay if you don’t, but I can hold your plate for you if you want.”

“Sure?” He opened his arms as you moved the food, clearing the way for Seohyuk to deposit the birthday girl there.

“Relax, Jisung,” Seohyuk laughed. “She won’t bite. Probably.” He perked up and turned around as his name was called from across the room. “Yeah, coming, Mom!”

That left you, Jisung, and SooSoo. You poked your niece’s belly, making her laugh, the sound ringing through the air like bells. She reached for Jisung again, this time succeeding in grabbing the chain that was hanging around his neck and yanking on it. He jerked forward with it in surprise.

“Ah, gentle, sweet,” you reminded her, fishing the rest of his necklace from under his collar. He was able to sit up straight again as SooSoo was fascinated by the starburst pendant, which matched the ring on your own finger.

“She’s so…”

“Big?” You suggested humorously, playing with the single tuft of hair tied up on top of her head that reminded you of a leek. You were thinking about the first time you saw her after she was born, when she was just a few pounds, compared to now.

“Little,” Jisung finished, his voice quiet but filled with awe.

You looked at him a little funny, scooting in closer to continue your conversation at a lower volume. “You were there when the Kims were all babies, weren’t you?”

“Yeah, but I wasn’t really there,” he murmured. “And they were kinda… I don’t know, boring. They were babies, they didn’t do anything. I don’t think I learned their names until they could talk.”

You laughed much louder than you had been talking, drawing a couple passing glances. Burying your face in Jisung’s shoulder to muffle yourself, you were easily able to picture a disinterested, aloof ghost Jisung turning up his nose at a “boring” baby Seohyuk asleep in a crib. As tears eked out the sides of your eyes, you felt your ghost drop a kiss to the top of your head, the curl of his smile evident.

That night, you were happy and bone-achingly tired, but some part of your brain couldn’t seem to get the memo. With a sigh, you opened your nightstand drawer, rooting around for your bottle of sleeping meds.

Jisung shuffled out of bed. “I’ll get you a glass of water.”

The bedroom door opened, stairs squeaked, and distantly, in the dead silence of the house, you could hear the kitchen faucet. Then, the stairs squeaked again, and Jisung closed the door behind him. As you sat up to accept the cup from him, you squinted at him inquisitively.

“Did you use the door?”

He looked back at the door, blinking hurriedly as he belatedly realized what happened. “Yeah, I did. I guess I was practicing so much to make sure I didn’t walk through anything in front of your family that I forgot.”

As he climbed back into bed, you knocked back the pill and set your water aside. Ruffling Jisung’s hair, you smiled at him fondly, feeling your chest swell. “Thank you, Sungie. I love you so much. I know that all this must be so hard and scary, and you’ve been doing so much for me. Really, thank you.”

“Ah, Y/N,” he chuckled nervously, ducking his head. He picked up your hand, though, playing with your fingers as he spoke, eyes focused on your entwined hands. “Thank you. I’m… You made me real. I know we don’t know for sure what’s going on, but that’s what I believe.”

“Real?” You echoed tentatively.

His hand phased through yours, a chill zipping up your arm, then he turned solid again, fingertips skimming over your pulse point on your wrist. “I’m not human again. I-I don’t know if I ever will be. I don’t want to get our hopes up. But I’m more than I was before you.”

You grabbed his hand, wrapping yours around the back of it and closing all of his fingers except his pointer. “You’re enough for me no matter what you are, Jisung.” You lifted your hands to your chest, drawing an X over your heart. “If we woke up tomorrow and you were incorporeal again, you’d still be the love of my life.”

“You’re the love of my life and afterlife.” Jisung pulled your hands over to him, drawing one leg of the X on ‘life’ and the other on ‘afterlife.’ “Cross my heart.”

“No fair pulling the afterlife card,” you teased, using your other hand to drag him into a kiss.

He kissed you unhurriedly, caressing your cheek with the back of his fingers. When you broke away for air, he squeezed your hand, tender gaze tracing over your features. “Guess I’ll always love you more, then.”

“Nuh-uh!” You retorted childishly, even as you were beginning to struggle with keeping your eyes open.

“Getting sleepy?” He asked smugly.

“Maybe.”

“Lay down, I’ll read to you.”

“Fine, but you didn’t win.”

“Alright, alright,” he hummed, reaching for the book on his nightstand. Settling down under the covers, you let your eyes close as Jisung began reading. Your ghost’s deep voice gently started lulling you to sleep as he kept one hand clasped with yours, resting over your heart.

⤷ masterlist

TAGLIST

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[ihavethedreamiesx]

Desert Dogs | Mingyu [NSFW]

Kim Mingyu - Seventeen

Rating: M (18+) MDNI

Word Count: ~4.6k

Pairing: S.Coups x AFAB!Reader

Genre: Sci-Fi AU!, Reader-Insert, Smut, Some Plot, Hookup/One-Night-Stand/Strangers to Fucking

!!This is smut…if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!

Warnings: She/Her Pronounces Used, Pet Names (Puppy), Size Kink, Dacryphilia, Degradation, BDSM elements, Breeding Kink (Kinda), Swearing, Spit, Breathplay, Oral (M! Receiving), Deepthroating, Face-fucking, Rough, Spanking, Cockbulge (oops), Hard Dom! Mingyu, Unprotected Sex (Don't), Mingyu calls the reader some not nice things but it's a kink so she's okay with it

Author's Note: The plot of this didn't go exactly as I originally planned, but no one's here for plot anyway... This also doesn't have a ton of sci-fi elements, not like the others, but once again, not here for substance, just smut

-> Hoshi's <-

-> Woozi's <-

-> Wonwoo's <-

-> S.Coup's <- (2)

I am cross-posting this on Archive. Please reblog! Share, even if its to the other sites! Let me know if you want to be on the taglist!

“Ah!? Nonononono-“ You shriek when your rover lets out a loud clunk, followed by several more clangs, a rattle, then it starts to slow. You startle when the tire then blows, the entire back right of the vehicle nearly collapsing and you fall out of your seat, landing against the passenger door with an ‘oof’. You wait until the rover completely stops and even longer for it to stop making noise. When you realize the small creaks will continue, you manage to haul yourself up, reaching for your bag that got snagged on the pedal under the steering wheel.

“Fuck!” You fall back against the glass with a sharp hiss when the rover suddenly tips on its side, a puff of black smoke releasing from the front of the rover. You lay on the door of your rover, regretting your life decisions, wondering why the hell you thought it would be okay to go through an area that clearly had sand worms. Not only did it spit hot acid at the hull of your rover, the acid soaked into the sand had eaten through the thick rubber of the tires. The inside was getting hot fast, because obviously the air conditioning was off if the whole rover was. With a grunt, you get up and crawl up to the back of your rover to get your duffle bag and you throw the back door open, tossing your bags out, then crawl out and land on the sand with a grunt. You stand looking up at the sky for a good two or three minutes…it’s cloudy. Before you can even sigh at your bad luck, the sky roars with thunder and a downpour starts, the hot sky-water soaking through your thin clothes fast.

“You have GOT to be fucking kidding me!” You shout at the sky, and it replies with another loud crack of thunder right as lightning streaks across the sky. Looking around, you’re in the middle of nowhere, miles from even the nearest oasis, let alone a town. You decide it’s better to walk in the rain in the desert than when it was dry and sunny, but you also know the sand could quickly get dangerous, so you have to get to the road fast to avoid any quicksand. Hauling your bag up onto your back, the rain soaking into the burlap makes it even heavier as it soaks everything inside. Because of course, why would a bag meant for desert travel be waterproof? You manage to get back to the road without sinking down into the sandy pits of hell and you debate on whether you should head back to the town you were last in, or go the other direction and just hope you find somewhere. You would use your holo-tracker, but you had broken it a few days prior…Well you didn’t break it, you were savagely attacked by a sand mouse who wanted to steal your lunch and when it jumped at you again, you yeeted the device at it to scare it away and it smashed right into a rock.

You walk for nearly an hour before you see any signs of civilization and it’s only a sign telling you it was going to be another good 40 minutes before you got to anything. You and you’re things are soaked, and it doesn’t look like the rain will stop anytime soon, but then - of course - it wouldn’t for another good three months… Adjusting your bag once again, you continue down the road, getting more and more tired. When you finally see something in the distance, you aren’t for sure what it is, maybe another rover? An oasis? No, it’s in the middle of road… You stop dead in your tracks, eyes narrowing, trying to make it out, not sure if your vision was blurry from exhaustion or the water dripping off your eyelashes. Before you can figure it out, thunder strikes again, and you see a flash of light before you black out.

~

When you wake up, you can still hear the rain, but it’s splattering onto a thatched roof as well as the sand. Grunting, you sit up, feeling very sore, most likely from your rover tipping over in protest of you trying to drive it. You were lying on a wicker cot, and you look around, trying to figure out where you were. You see an oasis out the archway entrance of the little hut you’re in, but there’s none of the tell-tale markers of an oasis outpost. Standing with a groan, you turn to look around, seeing you’re in a sunroom of sorts, another doorway covered with a curtain leading further in. Someone obviously found you, and you hope it’s a really hot guy rather than some sweet old lady-

“Oh, you’re awake.” Your rescuer had pulled the curtain back to stand in the doorway. Hot guy. Very hot guy. Hottest guy you’ve ever seen-

“U-uh…yeah.” You can’t help but gape at him. He was almost as tall as the doorway and built in the best possible way. His face is devastatingly handsome, but his slightly concerned face reminds you more of a puppy than anything.

“You’re lucky I came when I did, you just flopped down onto the road.�� He comes over to you, looking over you to see if there was anything visibly wrong.

“Um…h-how long was I out?”

“About 32 hours.”

“WHAT?!” He smiles softly, trying to be reassuring.

“Well, I would imagine anyone who gets that close to getting struck by lightning would be out for a while.”

“I-I…I got struck by lightning?”

“No! No, you just got really, really close… I’m Mingyu.” He scrambles to pull the pendant on his necklace up out of his black tank top, showing an upside-down triangle that’s vaguely familiar.

“I’m a Ranger, I-I promise I don’t have any weird motives.” You honestly wouldn’t care if he did, because you’re starting to get some unsavory motives…

“Oh, uh, (Y/N). I’m a scavenger.” You didn’t know a lot about the Rangers past that they’re do-gooders and vigilantes who are known for helping those in need. It actually did make you feel better.

“What company?”

“I’m technically a freelancer; I work for the Assembly.”

“How did you get out in the middle of the desert like that?”

“My rover…fell apart.”

“Sand worms?”

“Yeah…” You sigh, realizing not only were you without your rover, but it was also your transportation for work. You do have insurance, but you doubt it could get you a whole new one, and paying the difference would clean out your savings.

“Where are you from?”

“Morgran Town.”

“I’m going past there when I leave in a few days, I can drop you off?”

“Really? I…You don’t mind me staying here till you can?”

“Not at all, I can’t leave anyway. Neither of us can.”

“Huh?”

“Apparently, it’s some kind of freak storm that only comes every 70 years or so. Planet-wide and as the rain keeps going, the sand gets dangerous, and it heats back up causing horrible lightning.”

“Great.”

“Well, come on in and eat, you must be hungry.” He smiles and you wonder how someone so hot can be so cute. You follow behind him, feeling absolutely tiny and when you get further into his hut, you realize it’s much bigger than you first thought. And it’s pretty homey. You sit down at the dining table in the room you first enter and your stomach growls as you catch the scent of what he made. You aren’t 100% sure what it is, some kind of rice dish with meat, egg and veggies, but at that point you’d eat just about anything. He huffs a small laugh as he watches you start to eat, clearly famished, and he sits down across from you to eat in a much more civilized manner.

“So why do you live out here by yourself?” You ask him around your food, not thinking he’ll mind your lack of manners. You know them, but using them is a different story.

“Technically I don’t. This is one of the several places us Rangers have spread out through the desert for any of us to use while we travel. We really only have on permanent base, but Hoshi has his own place. Jeonghan won’t let him keep his tiger inside.

“He has a tiger? You know what, I don’t wanna know. How may rangers are there?”

“Here on S.V.T there’s thirteen.”

“So what do you do?”

“I’m the mechanic, I fix things, and I also work with my partner to make machines and mechs and stuff.”

“Why aren’t you with your partner?”

“He’s on some bounty and he told me I’d just get in the way…” Mingyu pouts slightly and you can’t help but melt further, he really is so freaking cute despite being massive. A big ole’ puppy dog.

“I’m not sure I can pay you back…I need all the money I have to get a new rover.”

“I don’t need any money; it’s part of my duty to help.”

“Are you sure?” You low-key, high-key had hoped it would be the stereotypical erotica theme of ‘then pay with your body’ but no, he just had to be genuinely sweet.

~

Because he was so kind in cooking and letting you stay, you insist on doing the dishes and you would offer to clean the hut as well, but it was already immaculate. The sun is starting to set, and he lights some lanterns when, suddenly, the storm gets even worse, the thunder and lightning intensifying.

“We might have to go downstairs…” He mutters.

“Couldn’t that flood?”

“Normally, but it’s more of a bunker-“ A bright flash of lightning closely followed by a sharp crack of thunder cuts him off and the wind speeds up, whistling through the hut.

“Let’s go down.”

“Yeah, yes, yes please.” You grab your bags and follow him into the back hall, and he lifts a wooden panel from the floor and presses his hand against a reader of the sealed door and it hisses open, a metal staircase leading down. You follow him down and the automatic lights turn on as the door seals shut behind you and he leads you further in. The low ceiling of the tunnel forces him to lean forward slightly but you have no trouble, and once you get through another sealed door, the metal-walled bunker opens up into a very nice area. It resembles a studio-style apartment with only the bathroom being separate, and there is even a kitchen.

“We sometimes use this area to house people that need help, mostly slaves that have gotten away.”

“Ah…” You look around, seeing there is only one bed…and not even a couch.

“Um… I can sleep in the armchair.” You offer and he smiles, shaking his head.

“No need.” He goes over to the bed and taps a button with his foot, the bottom drawer sliding out with another mattress.

“Oh. I’ll sleep on the floor.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. Thank you, Mingyu~”

“You’re welcome.”

~

While the storm is muffled in the bunker, as it gets worse, you can start to hear it. You’re awoken when a loud clatter triggers some kind of alarm. He startles awake as well, stumbling out of bed to go to the terminal. You take the chance to ogle him, he must’ve shed his shirt after you had fallen asleep because he was just in his pants. You could only see his back, but you were nearly salivating already. The alarm finally stops, and he turns the lights on dimly, continuing to look over the terminal, then he sighs.

“What?”

“The hut is…gone.”

“Gone? How?”

“It’s…on fire. Kinda. The rain is putting it out, but I think the metal of the bunker attracted the lightning, so the hut go struck.”

“Oh.”

“We might be in here for a bit.”

“Yeah?”

“There’s food down here.” He smiles and you sigh in relief.

“Though…the extranet antenna was…on the roof.”

“So…?”

“No entertainment…Not the screen kind.”

“Hm…” You hum, looking around. It’s evident neither of you will get back to sleep, plus it’s only a few hours from morning anyway. You glance back at him, and he’s turned around; your jaw literally drops seeing him.

“Holy fuck…” You say, not quietly at all. He instantly blushes bright red, the tips of his ears the most red.

“S-sorry, I’ll put a shirt on-“

“No! God, no! You’re…fuck-“ You get up off the bed and go over to him. He takes the chance to look over you as well, you’d shed your clothes to sleep as well, just in a breast-band and shorts since all of your other clothes were still in your bag, probably still soaked. You get close enough you can hear him swallow hard, and his blush is starting to seep down over his collar bone. You notice his hand reach out, then he hesitates, then pulls back. You take a step closer, looking up at him. It’s then you notice very thin lines running all over his body, almost imperceptible.

“What are these?” You take the chance to touch him, running your index finger over the line, tracing the pattern over his chest. He lets out a shuddering breath, the muscle under your finger twitching a bit.

“Um…I have cybernetics.”

“You do?”

“Yeah…”

“What for?”

“They…make me stronger… and uh…”

“And what~?” You take another step closer, your single finger tracing becoming all of your fingers.

“Um…build my stamina…”

“So you can…just keep going~?” Your second hand joins and you step even closer, your warm breath on his skin from your proximity making his own hitch.

“I-I guess, yeah…” You take a final step, so your chest presses against his upper stomach, the size difference making your core heat up alone. He can’t help but gawk at just how small you look, and the look on your face-

“C-Can I?” He reaches for you again and you huff with a smirk.

“Please~” Mingyu swallows again and his hand comes up, gently cupping your jaw in his hand, nearly covering the whole half of his face. The softness of the gesture takes you back a bit, and while it’s sweet, you don’t want sweet. You want him to rail you into next week-

You gasp out of soft moan when his hand moves, going down to your neck, his thumb gently pressing against your windpipe and you see the soft, nervous look in his eyes harden into raw heat.

“You think you can handle me?” His voice lowers further, and you swallow hard at the sudden shift in his demeanor. Mingyu acted a bit nervous and shy before, but it’s also obvious he knows how sexy he is, the effect he has…

“You think your tiny cunt can handle my cock?” He presses closer to you, and you gasp, feeling his growing hard-on pressing against your stomach. Even without him being so much bigger, his cock was huge.

“I don’t care if it can’t-“ You’re cut off when he forces your head back with his hand under your chin, the slight pressure on your throat makes your head swim. You open your mouth a bit to get more air in, face going red, heart racing, cunt throbbing. You whimper when he spits down into your mouth and he smirks deviously as you eagerly swallow. You squeak when he shoves you down, your legs buckling till your kneeling, your face right in front of his hard cock straining against his pants. You watch with a dumb gawk on your face as his hands go to the fly of his pants and he shoves both them and his boxers off, his dick slapping against his stomach then bobs against your cheek and your eyes run over him, nearly salivating.

“O-oh…”

“Open.” His order brokers no argument and you eagerly do, tongue slightly out. His smirk grows and he grabs his cock at the base and places the angry head on your tongue. The taste of his skin makes your mouth water more and you whine as you suck the head into your mouth, your jaw slightly protesting. You swirl your tongue over the tip of his dick and your hands go to the floor to keep your balance. His strong fingers weave into your hair, tugging on it and you gag softly when he thrusts, his cock hitting the back of your throat suddenly. You barely have the time to suck air in harshly through your nose before his girth is down your throat, your nose pressing to his groin. You moan around his cock, the vibration making him groan.

“Can’t believe I found myself such an eager little slut~” Mingyu chuckles, hips pulling back so you can suck in air then he fucks back down your throat, causing you to gag softly. You swallow over and over to get used to him, the restriction of your air just making your cunt soak faster, gummy walls clenching at the thought of his fat cock splitting you in half-

“You like my cock that much? You’re drooling like a fucking dog.” He huffs, his other hands going to your hair as well and you focus on breathing when you can as he fucks your face, your chin a mess of spit and pre.

“Bet you’d like to be fucked like one too. Like a little bitch needing to get bred.” You can’t help but moan at the thought, just the idea of him filling you with his hot cum sending burning heat down to your core.

“How’d you like if I kept you, huh? My pretty little puppy, collar and all, ready to suck me off and take my cock whenever I want~?” He chuckles darkly and despite not knowing if he was being serious, his debauched statements just fuel the fire in your own body.

“Be a good puppy and take my cum, yeah~? Swallow it all~” He groans, burying his cock into your throat as far as he can and your eyes nearly roll back as he pumps his hot jizz down your gullet, your vision spotting from need air, as well as the orgasm thudding through your needy cunt. You feel tears prick your eyes and down your cheeks at the overwhelming sensations and he pulls back so you can breathe, half his cock still in your mouth as it still spurts out ropes of cum. Mingyu finally pulls his cock out of your mouth, still half hard, messy with your spit and his cum, just like your face. You look up at him with a hazy, fucked out expression and he huffs a slightly condescending laugh. You gasp when he shoves his foot between your legs, pressing up against your cunt through your thin sleeping shorts, able to feel your wet through the fabric.

“You’re a such a slut; did I seriously get you off cumming down your throat?”

“Y-Yes…” You reply hoarsely and he scoffs.

“I bet you liked my cum, yeah?” You nod in reply.

“Then get on the bed, ass in the air, I’ll breed you, little bitch~” He grins as you scramble to do so, legs a little wobbly and climb onto the bed, then shove your face into the pillow, ass in the air. Neither of you care that your messy face is getting all over the pillowcase and you gasp when he kneels behind you, reaching forward and tears your breast band off. When he said that the cybernetics made him stronger, you weren’t expecting him to rip leather. You’re less surprised when your linen shorts that you wear as underwear are also torn off, but what you aren’t expecting is the head of his cock already at your soaking cunt. Your breath leaves you and your body spasms in shock, cunt fluttering as he fucks his cock into you immediately, his girth lighting your gummy walls on fire at the sudden stretch.

“Safe word is ‘cactus’.” He tells you and you nod. He at least lets you get somewhat used to him, the head of his cock pushing at your cervix, the sting burns but you can’t help but love it. After only about 40 seconds, when he doesn’t hear you say the word, he starts to fuck you. The air you had just caught back leaves you again and he leans over you, hands gripping the rungs of the headboard, the top banging against the wall in rhythm with his hips. Skin slaps through the room and he huffs a laugh at the mess you’ve already made on his cock and groin, your wet dripping from your cunt as it struggles to take his cock.

“M-Mingyu-!” You gasp, your next orgasm coming startlingly fast. You immediately fall over the edge, clit burning, when he smacks your ass hard, you can feel the outline of his hand as it swiftly turns red on your skin.

“The fuck you call me?”

“S-Sir, s-sorry-“

“Nah, not that either.” He spanks the other cheek, and your fingers bury into the sheets, mind already starting to fade as all you can focus on is him rearranging your guts.

“M-Master-“

“Good girl~” He purrs, his hips stuttering slightly before he’s ball’s deep inside you, filling you with more of his hot cum. Your eyes nearly cross as the force of him painting your insides white, so much that it spills out of your pussy around where he’s inside you, your own release dripping down both your thighs as well. Your body goes limp, and his still hard cock slides out of you as your hips fall to the bed. You lay flat there for just a few seconds, brain trying to bring you back to reality, body twitching. You somewhat register him lifting your leg up to his hip, turning you partially onto your side before he’s back inside you, the new angle letting the fat head of this dick to pound at your weak spot over and over.

“Fuck, master~!” You squeal, giggling deliriously, blushing even like you’re totally drunk on his cock.

“You like being my sweet little slut, huh? Like when I fuck you like a bitch?”

“Yes~!” You nearly start to babble in protest when his hips halt but he’s just rolling you onto your back, still buried inside you and then slings your knees over his elbows, folding you in half, his hand coming to grip your throat again. He squeezes just right, your head swimming, but able to breathe enough, and he huffs when your cunt tightens further and more of your release spurts out of your cunt and over both of you, his fat cock just barreling through it. The sharp sting of overstimulation crests, making tears spill over your cheeks and he groans at the sight, leaning down and licking up the tears on your face. The sharp burning crests and fades to please again and he groans, his thrusts growing shallow, buried deep and just battering the tip of his cock against your back wall over and over. Mingyu’s hand leaves your throat, and you gasp as full airflow returns to you, then he shoves his thumb into your mouth, holding it open. He smirks as you reach up to grip at his wrist, but make no move to try and move him, nearly hugging his arm.

“Such a good bitch, tongue out, panting for her master. If you had a tail, it’d be wagging, huh, puppy?” You nod with a whine, spit dripping from the corner of your mouth and he presses his thumb down on the back of your tongue. He pulls his hand back, moving your legs from over his elbows so he can instead sling them over his shoulders, your ankles by his ears. He leans back a bit, forcing your lower back to prop up and he shoves a pillow under you. He groans as he continues to fuck a mess of cum out of your cunt, watching as your lower stomach bulges, your tiny body struggling to accommodate him.

Mingyu keeps going for literal hours, fucking orgasm after orgasm from you, your cunt nearly numb, your head blank, the bed an absolute mess. He had only cum two other times, changing position over and over, bending you over the bed, holding you up over him to thrust up into you, up against the wall, even in the air. Right before he shoves his cock back into your abused hole for the nth time, you tap out.

“C-cactus-!” You gasp out and he immediately snaps out of it, pulling back. He gently rolls you over onto your back, his concerned face softening his dominant stupor immediately.

“Oh, oh…puppy, I’m sorry, are you hurting?”

“S-sore…” you heave out and he sighs, shaking his head.

“I’m so sorry, (Y/N), I got carried away-“ You shake your head, humming softly.

“You’re okay~ I just…can’t keep going… I don’t think I can even walk…” He huffs a soft laugh, looking over you at the mess of both of your fluids and the bruises his hands left on your hips.

“You know…”

“Hm?”

“You kept calling be a bitch in heat…but you fucked me like a dog too~” He blinks at you in a bit of shock, then he bursts out into laughter.

“I guess I did~”

Master-List

Taglist: @gaslysainz

[nowimjustastranger]

Has Stcmo Ford come across a dimension that alerted him a Stanley was in danger, but he got there, everything seems fine. Keyword “seems”.

And after numerous checks, everything seems like in order. On the surface it just looks like another dimension with Ford, Fiddleford and Stan living together in gravity falls.

But there is just SOMETHING that feels immensely wrong about this dimension.

Like the way that this Stanley and Fiddleford seem a little too overly content with their lives, they aren’t seem to be lost or forgetting things so it can’t be the memory gun. And by the looks of it, the Bill Cipher of this dimension is dead.

In fact the more Stcmo Ford looks into it…

Filbrick is dead, Fiddleford’s wife Emma-May seems to be dead, Shermie is dead, newspapers on about the last few years show that many gang leaders have either gone mysteriously missing or have seemed to have been killed. Jimmy Snakes, Rico, several people who knew Stanley in prison are dead as well. Many people that would be considered a threat have been killed.

There’s something off about this Ford as well, he seems to always be watching Fiddleford and Stanley, the two always were within watch.

Like a wolf watching over his two sheep.

Not entirely sure what era this is happening in, but I'm gonna go out on a limb here and assume it's a "Mystery Trio AU" type situation, so it would be set in the early years in Gravity Falls.

Ford has been in Dimension 1R^86 for three days now and he's nearly at his wits end, he has no idea what the threat is or even where it might come from. He hasn't slept at all either, maintaining constant vigilance of the shack and its inhabitants.

Ford is currently perched in one of the large trees surrounding the shack, hidden in the branches with a direct line of sight to both entrances. There's been nothing, no activity around the shack within a fifty foot radius. Which is another thing, Ford hasn't spotted so much as a gnome rooting through the trash in the three days he's been watching.

It's... something's not right but he can't put a finger on what.

With a growl, Ford's eyes flick to the icon in the top corner of his hud, selecting it with a thought so the data flooded onto the screen, his proximity sensors online to warn him if anything tries to sneak up on him while he's preoccupied.

D – 1R^86 | 29 yo | COD: Blunt Force Trauma

No change.

Ford exited out of the data with a frustrated huff, he'd done a lot of digging into the deaths that surrounded Stan and the results all pointed toward one Ford Pines being the culprit, but the way that he watched over his brother and Fiddleford so intently made it highly unlikely that he was the threat.

The Ford in this dimension reminded Ford 419"3 of himself, an ambush predator watching and waiting for the opportunity to strike. A wolf that muzzled itself in the presence of it's sheep so they would not be afraid, because despite the wolf's nature, those sharp teeth and claws were never meant for the sheep.

They were for other predators.

Other predators that might also be watching and waiting for the wolf to stray too far from the sheep, waiting for the wolf's teeth to go dull as it grew fat and lazy within the comfort of it's den. But not these wolves who starved themselves to keep their body lean, who kept their teeth sharp with frequent hunts, who lulled other predators into a false sense of security by leaving the sheep unattended-

Wait. Shit. How long ago did the Ford leave the house?

His proximity sensors shrieked at him and Ford barely managed to dodge the first bolt that had been aimed at his side, the second burying itself in his calf. So the Ford was looking to incapacitate and not kill, not exactly a comforting realization.

Ford's landing was sloppy, his leg buckling when he hit the ground in a crouch, giving the Ford just enough time to line up a clear shot. Neither moved, both waiting to see what the other would do. The Ford's aim was steady and his finger poised to shoot, his empty stare more akin to a shark than a wolf.

"You've been scurrying around for long enough, little rat." The Ford spoke calmly, with a voice void of emotion. It was unnerving, how robotic this Ford was when he wasn't with his brother and Fiddleford, like he was removing a mask. "Give me one reason why I shouldn't kill you."

"Your brother is going to die." Ford divulged, watching the Ford's hands flex on the crossbow, indecisive. Ford could work with that. "I can stop it from happening, but only if you let me work."

"You really think I'm going to trust you at your word?" The Ford asked with an ominous tilt of his head, dark eyes studying Ford as if he were a specimen. It made Ford's skin crawl, fingers twitching with the urge to gouge the Ford eyes out just so he would stop looking at Ford the same way He used to.

"You're going to have to because if you kill me, your brother is as good as dead."

[twinroomies]

you gotta implement the 6 other human souls or else I'm gonna explode (you will know, there will be exploded me in your walls)

Don't threaten me with a good explode, I'm John Explosion over here, love me a good explosive. Also, wouldn't half of them be DEAD AGAIN ALREADY? You want like, old people? I can make old people! /lh /j But, joking aside, to get serious: My main concern with doing so is that if I do make them appear over HERE, how people are going to handle it over at Twin Runes? The last thing I want to do is open the flood gates for people to ask Akane what CLOVER or RILEY (I think that's the name of the Wildfire child?) are up to. I can answer that for all of you! They're still dead. 😅 Akane has made it ABUNDANTLY clear they're not showing up in the main comic proper beyond, say, the cameo of Clover during Chara's explanation of soul colors, y'know? I think it'd be fun to do so, but also... I'd probably design all of them from scratch, too, so if you were hoping to see your favorite scrimblo from "Undertale Green" or "Undertale Kindered Spirits" (both of which look lovely, this is not a slight against them, they're just what I saw first when consulting Underevent 2024 for relevant examples), that's not gonna happen because: 1. I don't know which games are even going to get done. 2. I don't know enough about UTDR AU's in-general to write them faithfully. 3. To be honest I'm not interested in adapting these characters JUST for the sake of them being there. It's style without substance. Furthermore, I don't want this to become the "Deltarune Fallen Human AU Power Hour" comic, if I implement them, they're not gonna be main characters, or probably even side characters.

To be clear, anon, this isn't a direct response to you, I know you're just being silly and this isn't me going in on you for a good joke! This is me explaining overall the situation with that area of questioning (which I've been getting here and there since this started) in a long-form post to anyone who might ask in general. You've done nothing wrong, I did this with a post the other day and I got a lot of people going "Oh, I don't think they meant anything too seriously by that!", which was a fair criticism in the way it showed me I haven't done enough on my end to reassure everyone that this isn't about the person that's asking as much as it is me using the post as a platform to give general information. We all clear now? Okay, if you excuse me, I have to go, I hear something in my walls...

(In addition when I answer questions like this in the future, there is now an FAQ tag I shall start using. This will allow you to check for additional info that's not in the masterpost you might want to know! 😊)

[hey-bigday]

what's that? TGS gem au!

these are honestly a bit old by now (2 month-ish? oh geez) but they have never left my head. If you want to know more, there is a massive yap wall under this cut with some lore and design ideas

First, Jekyll and Hyde's gems!

My first instinct was giving them hearts for gems, since we only ever see one Spinel in Steven Universe.

But I ended up remembering this that I read in the wiki a long time ago, that Spinels would have differently shaped gems based on playing card suits. I was suddenly hit with the fact that we do see both Jekyll and Hyde referred to with card symbolism in Just a Song at Twilight! This was very good for me, because I don't know anything about cards at all.

Jekyll also had a lot more diamonds scattered around his design– both a nod to his gem and his 'rule-following' attitude. Hyde only has the bare minimum to signify his court.

Trying to make a Sapphire is hard, and clothes are even harder, but I ended up making the choice to give Lanyon longer hair. He secretly hates it and reforms with shorter hair the first chance that he gets, but for now he has to keep up appearances

Figuring out Everly was also pretty hard, but that's mostly because she doesn't have that many appearances in the comic. I hope I got her right, even though I'm not entirely sure about making her a quartz.

Now...

LORE DUMP TIME!!!

Red Spinel (aka Henry Jekyll) was originally meant to be Pink Diamond's playmate. However, not long after her (his) creation, it became clear she was an off-color. An imperfect gem had no business being so close to a diamond, but due to the rarity and high-cost of spinels she was spared and instead sent as a 'gift' to a successful commander, Star Garnet (aka Lanyon Sir.)

Star Garnet was well-known for shaping up off-color gems into perfect fits for their roles. While this mostly earns the reputation of a fearsome leader, Star Garnet isn't actually cruel to her gems, she simply organizes thought-out training regimens to fit every gem's disabilities. Still, this exact reputation is what led to her being gifted Red Spinel. While she did not have any use for a Spinel seeing as she is war commander, she couldn't exactly refuse a gift so important as a spinel from the diamonds.

One of Star Garnet's gems that stands out the most is certainly her sapphire. Sapphires are aristocratic gems of high-standing, and so, are not under control of gems such as garnets. This sapphire, of course, is a special case. Tall where a sapphire is small, rowdy where a sapphire is calm. Sapphire (Robert Lanyon) has struggled her whole life to have a fraction of the respect a gem of her standing is supposed to have before she simply gave up. If no one is going to take her seriously for her predictions, then she'll give them a real reason.

Disrespecting orders, messing around with 'lower' gems and being generally disrespectful are Sapphire's specialty. She began to take quite a liking to interacting with the other gems in the Station: soldier, technicians... They all looked at her with the adoration befitting for a sapphire, but an adoration she had never seen directed at her before. Interacting with 'lower' gems made her feel a type of control she simply never felt in her life, and it was easy to leave once they got to attached–, or stars forbid–, accidentally tried to fuse with her. The fusions never worked, seeing as only one side felt the connection, but it was enough to prove her influence and leave gems ashamed.

Of course, things started to change with Spinel's arrival.

Seeing as Garnet had no use for a playmate, Spinel mostly walked around their space station like a particularly unnerving jester before meeting Sapphire. The two quickly hit off as Sapphire used Spinel as an excuse to escape most of the time, and Garnet mostly approved in hopes that Spinel might to Sapphire some good. The two gems ended up bonding, finding secret rooms to scurry off to and share experiences.

Spinel wasn't what Sapphire thought a spinel would be like, and Sapphire wasn't what Spinel thought a sapphire would act like. They both talked about their experiences, with Spinel admitting she wasn't particularly good at making people smile or fond of playing, not to mention her extreme curiosity for the works of peridot's (who have grow a bit scared of the red gem that keeps staring at them intensely from the shadows).

Now, while Sapphire didn't know how a spinel was actually supposed to act like, it was clear Spinel did not emerge with any knowledge of etiquette (which Sapphire actually did, another reason for her insecurities. She did everything right, so why was she never enough?) so Sapphire took upon herself to teach what she knows to Spinel, who took to the lessons like a fish in water. That's how the "gentlegem" lessons started.

As their friendship grew, so did Spinel's charm and confidence. She was a natural at being charismatic and while she wasn't a natural playmate, she was very good at boosting gem's morale with speeches and words. This completely erased most of Spinel's past reputation as 'that-one-creepy-gem', except for the peridots who were still a bit... Wary. But that's fine.

While Sapphire was a bit bitter about this (because, really, why was Spinel better at this than her, the gem who was supposed to be born for this role?) she was still floored by a torrent of new feelings as the time passed by. It didn't take long for her to realize what these feelings were. This care, this adoration, it was what those gems she so toyed with in the past felt for her. Spinel completely took away her control and didn't even realize it, and now Sapphire had to live with the consequences. She was unquestionably in love.

Even with all of these confusing feelings and the growing pressure on Sapphire, they still met up in their secret spot every few rotations. It was in one of these meetings that Sapphire took one of those fancy gadgets of recorded music that higher gems had from Pink Diamond's balls. Spinel didn't know how to dance, but Sapphire teached her. They danced, they harmonized, they glowed. Fusion was inevitable, and it felt amazing, but upon realizing what was happening their fusion immediately broke under the torrent of their feelings. Sapphire was the first one to react, and she ran, leaving Spinel dazed and alone.

Spinel tried acting like nothing happened after, and maybe Sapphire would've done so too if it wasn't for what happened next. Star Garnet came with a brand new soldier, a rose quartz (Everly Solanki), specifically to keep Sapphire in line and finally make her do her job. When Sapphire went to talk to Spinel directly and say they couldn't keep up with their arrangement anymore, Spinel was the one to leave first this time, now leaving Sapphire dazed and alone.

While Sapphire's and Rose Quartz's relationship was rocky at first, they ended up growing as friends by the end, relating to each other's struggles and expectations. Meanwhile, Spinel fell to an uneasy depression, greatly worrying her friends. This was about the time Spinel truly let herself indulge in the alchemy and technology she always loved, hoping, praying that she could find a solution that would make her less of a broken gem, a disposable clown. Studying the properties of a gem's, well, gem– Spinel manipulated what is supposed to be a gem's very being, their coding, their brain and sense of self. The injection that she delivery directly to her gems was supposed to separate herself from all that made her defective, it created Hyde instead.

I have more plans for this au– like how Jekyll didn't actually create the society before making Hyde. Star Garnet and her fleet will eventually be put in the Earth's gem war which will result in a part of her gems to mysteriously rebel and steal a ship. These gems, (which included Spinel, Sapphire and Rose) would come to make the Society in the future! Spinel would end up naturally taking a leading role in their escape and he appointed their leader. The plan would be that they settled down in a distant part of Earth's moon and would only visit the planet many years after the war was over. These visits would end up with them learning about things like names and gender so you don't have to call characters by their gems all the time, those are their dead names now! (← silly)

Thank you for anyone who had the patience to read all of this, love you all 🫶

[kusanagihaku]

the promises carved into our tears 

⭢ haku x mc, 3.6k

I will look for you in my next life, and the next, and the next. Now that I have tasted how sweet a happy ending with you can be, I will turn my back on fate over and over again, if only to meet you one last time.

or: a red string soulmate au where hotarubi works for yuelao, 如果可以-style. on ao3 here / masterlist.

“Nightmares again?” 

Haku sinks into a chair, blinking blearily at Subaru as flames clear slowly from the edge of his vision. “Mm.” 

Subaru smiles sympathetically. He sets a warm teacup down on the table in front of Haku, and motions for him to take a sip. “Gyokuro blend, from Nakamura Tokichi. Zenji’s just stepped out to get this week’s list of clients from Yuelao.” 

Haku murmurs a thanks as he cradles the teacup in his hands. It is nearly too hot to hold, but the weight in his hands is grounding, and it doesn’t take more than a few sips before the fog behind his eyes clear. 

Good. He has a full day of work ahead of him. 

It started after The Incident back at Darkwick – after the smoke had cleared, all major and minor deities had descended on the island, eager to recruit a freshly dead ghoul into their ranks. 

Once most of them had gotten over the shock of also needing to work in the afterlife (Daikokuten had laughed, saying, “How else do you think the gods keep this world running, if not for the behind the scenes work of us supernatural beings?” before promptly offering Taiga a job) and the shock of there being another ghoul in their midst (Zenji’s non-apology was rather sheepish, and mostly directed at Jiro), Towa was the first to be recruited, enticed by Yuelao’s stories of soulmates tied together with red string and destined lovers with fates written in the stars. Haru had followed, of course – only for a while, until Towa gets settled, he said. I’ll worry about him. 

Naturally Zenji got pulled along too, claiming the red strings he’d tie would be brilliant source material for his next manuscript. After all, love sells, doesn’t it? 

Subaru didn’t have the heart to remind him there would be nobody around to publish his manuscript, now that none of them were corporeal, but had followed him anyway, despite an offer from Ame-no-Uzume to work as a kabuki talent scout. There was something repelling about going back to his old life, he said, and left it at that. 

Of course, they pulled the shell of their vice-captain along too. It was the least they could do, with what was left of Haku. 

Not that Haku minded – working for Yuelao isn’t particularly taxing. He sends them a list of soulmates meant to meet that week, each pair of serial numbers complete with the time and location; all they have to do is map out their routes each day, show up at the correct place and time with the red soulmate strings, then let the latent magic floating in the fabric of the universe do its work. 

It’s mostly paperwork anyway, with the biggest part of their job being signing off on each pair after the soulmate strings tie themselves. He can’t complain; it’s been easy work for the past twenty odd years, the days slipping by like water between his fingers. Not a bad way to spend eternity. 

And it’s fulfilling too  – like what Zenji says, there’s something special in seeing bonds form between two people that are two sides of the same coin. It reminds him of–

Haku sets his empty cup down. Shakes his head to clear it. 

Subaru looks up from the book he is reading, but does not say anything. He picks up the teapot, instead, and refills Haku’s cup. 

Haku nods in thanks. 

The comfortable silence stretches out again, drifting like dust motes in the late morning light. It is only interrupted when Zenji arrives back home, banging his way through the entrance of their shared home with a triumphant, “Guess who I met on the way home!”

Haku cracks a smile. There is always something infectious about Zenji’s enthusiasm, no matter how tired he is. “Who?” 

“Towa!” Zenji exclaims. He sets his messenger bag on the table. “Still as floaty as ever. He rejected my offer to let him listen to my latest plot idea, though. It seemed like he had somewhere to be.” 

Subaru laughs. “He must have been heading to a binding. He’s still on morning shift, after all.” 

Zenji hums as he unzips his messenger bag and pulls out their soulmate lists for the week. “I told him he and Haru were welcome over for dinner any time. Don’t think he heard me, though.” 

Subaru nudges a freshly-poured cup of tea away from Zenji’s stack of paper. “I’ll text Haru. It’s been a while since we last saw him.”

And it has been – the last time Haku remembers seeing the red-haired ghoul was sometime two or three months ago in April. All five of them were slated to work a freshman orientation at a university, easily one of the busiest times of the year for the entire Yuelao organisation. Instead of going to his allocated location and waiting, however, Towa had just tossed all the red strings he had in his box up in the air, waved a hand, and trusted that all the strings would go where they were meant to go. 

Haru had cried at the logistical nightmare, then promptly banned Towa from holding the box containing their soulmate strings ever again. Haku wonders idly if Haru ever recovered from the stress. 

Zenji shuffles the stack of paper into three smaller piles, then hands one pile each to Subaru and Haku. They descend into silence, the way they always do with a new list, quietly setting virtual push-pins on their Maps apps to plan out their individual routes for the week. 

Haku is at the end of his list before he sees it. Tucked under entry number 85, his last pair for the week, is a single serial number, slid in at 5.17pm at a park in Meguro. 

He blinks. That’s not supposed to happen. Don’t they usually come in a pair? 

He waits until Subaru looks up from his own list before carefully highlighting the problem. 

Subaru glances over the strange entry, brow furrowed. “Must have been an administrative error. Perhaps whoever was compiling the lists forgot to copy paste the second serial number in?” 

Haku looks doubtfully at the lone serial number sitting at the bottom of the page. Administration has never made a mistake before. “Perhaps.” 

Zenji leans over, peering over his glasses. “My last one for the week is there too,” he says. “At 5.09pm. We can go together to figure it out.” 

Subaru rests his chin on his hands. “My day ends at 4.28pm. Shall we head there together? I’m curious to see what happens.” 

A wave of gratefulness for their wiling companionship slides a smile onto Haku’s face. “Yeah. Yeah, why not?” 

-

The end of the week does not come soon enough. 

They meet at the corner near the Meguro River as the summer sun begins to dip lower in the sky. It is a short walk to the park they are meant to be at, and along the way Zenji regales them with how one of his bindings this morning looked like it was right out of a romance novel. 

“Was it better than the one last week?” Haku teases, and Zenji laughs, bright and loud. 

“The one at the cat cafe? No, nothing can beat that! I could tell right away those two were meant to be, I swear.” 

The park they stop in front of is small, more like a playground than anything else. There is a small child sitting on the swings, blue push-popsicle sweating in his little fist. His feet barely touch the floor as he swings gently back and forth, looking around the neighbourhood with wide, curious eyes. 

“That’ll be him, then,” Haku says. He leans over to check Zenji’s list, then flicks his wrist to check the time. “Any minute, now.” 

Subaru sighs, smiling. “I love it when they find their soulmates young. It’s the best kind of friendship, isn’t it?” 

“Exactly,” Zenji coos. He tugs open his messenger bag to retrieve his box of red strings. “It’s always adorable. Goodness, I want to pinch his little cheeks… he has no idea what’s in store for him.” 

Haku snorts fondly at the two of them. Thank goodness they weren’t visible to humans – three strange men standing in a playground staring at a child? Never mind they still looked like they were in their mid-twenties, they’d be reported for kidnapping straight away. 

Before he can say anything, though, a slightly older boy rounds the corner on his bicycle. It is evident he is new to cycling, shiny orange bicycle wobbling from side to side as he banks hard to the right, trying to make too sharp of a turn. 

Haku barely has time to blink before the boy’s bicycle screeches too far to the right, flinging the boy onto the soft, packed earth of the playground. 

There is a teary “ow,” as the boy sits up, cradling a scraped knee. His hands are bloody, too, roughness of the ground having rubbed abrasions onto the skin of his palm. 

The boy on the swing slips off his seat neatly. He barely comes up to Haku’s hip. “I saw that.”

The boy on the floor whips around at the sound, scowling through his tears. “No, you didn’t.” 

“I did,” he confirms. His tongue flashes blue as he speaks. “It’s okay, though. My brother says it’s normal to fall when you just start learning. Do you need help?”

The older boy hesitates. “Maybe.”

As he helps him up, Zenji slides his box open, and lifts a single red string out of it. He blows, gently, and they watch as the thin thread rolls off the tips of his fingers and drifts over to where the older boy has just regained his balance. It loops around their arms and knots around both their little fingers, giving off a gentle glow as both ends seal, before disappearing. 

The only evidence that anything ever happened is Zenji’s beam as he scribbles a quick signature beside their serial numbers. “Lovely!” 

He clicks his pen closed before tucking everything haphazardly back into his bag, and they watch as the boys pick up the bicycle and begin to walk away. Subaru turns to face Haku. “It’s going to be 5.17pm soon.”

Haku looks down at his watch. Two minutes. 

He has barely retrieved his own box of strings out from his bag when a voice sounds out behind them – “Excuse me. Coming through.”

Time stops. 

It is a voice he can recognise anywhere, a voice he hears in the moments between closing his eyes and falling asleep, one he hears echoing through the threads of his dreams and nightmares alike. It sinks into his skin, past the beat of his heart and the pulse of his nerves, and fills his veins with a feeling he does not quite dare to describe as hope. It sends tremors down the tips of his fingers; it calls open a rift in his memory he has never attempted to heal.  

He turns around, almost mechanically, and sees you. 

-

You swear to every deity there is that if the universe has a reason it’s making you late to your part-time job today, it better be a fucking good one. 

First the trains weren’t running as frequently as they were supposed to, then there was an issue with the gantries malfunctioning at the station exit, then you dropped your bottle and had to run after it for a bit to get it back and in the process missed the green light to cross the road… and now, finally on the home stretch to your employer’s place there are three fucking idiots standing in the middle of the sidewalk, blocking your way. 

You huff. Your employer better be flexing their omniscient powers to read your situation – what for work for a minor god if they make you relive every tiny inconvenience to explain why you’re fifteen minutes late to your job? 

(Never mind that they’re actually incredibly nice and don’t really care when you head in for work as long as you get their paperwork done.) 

“Excuse me,” you call out. “Coming through.” 

All three men whip around. On their faces are various states of astonishment, frozen almost comically in their surprise. 

You’re about to sigh and push forward, when you suddenly notice the colour of their eyes. 

Shit. 

They’re not human. 

Fuck. 

You send a quick prayer to your employer. Hopefully they’re listening – the last time you ran into another supernatural being he made you look for his glasses for two hours before receiving a call saying he left them at home. 

You don’t generally mind helping minor deities here and there, honestly, especially not since they bless you right after for your help. Most of them are really nice. In fact, you’d even say you’re used to doing little things for them, having grown up with the Sight and being able to see supernatural beings for most of your life. But these three don’t look like they need any help, and you’re going to be late to what you know is going to be a mountain of paperwork and— 

You think the tallest one might be crying. 

Ah.

Before you can ask if he’s okay and if they need any help, something bright and glowing rises from the box one of them is holding. 

It elongates, spinning itself slowly mid-air, one end gliding over to you like it has found its target. The other end floats up to the man with green hair. As you watch in bewilderment, it gently wraps around both your little fingers, then tightens with a flash of gold. 

It sends a searing pain through your arms, a shock that slams the air out of you and turns your vision an inky black. 

-

You are standing on a wooden porch, shade of dripping wisteria providing you a little shelter from the grey drizzle. The quiet patter of the rain is only interrupted when someone calls your name, a soft summoning that fills you with warmth. You turn your head to see the brown-haired man – Subaru whispers into your mind, like his name has been there all along – smiling at you. Tea is ready, he says. Come inside. 

You are looking down from the top of a long staircase, closely packed torii gates lining the path down. The stone steps beneath your feet are faded with age, but the red of the dates are vibrant, almost as if they were recently painted. The blue haired man in front of you turns, grinning brightly; his ruby eyes sparkle in the dim light as he extends his hand backwards. Zenji – the flash of his name brings along with it a swell of affection. Come, my dear, he says. They’re waiting for us. 

You are sitting on a cushion laid out on the porch of a traditional Japanese house, back resting against doors made of paper and wood. It overlooks a quiet garden that extends on all three sides; the peacefulness of the stone lanterns makes it feel like a secret you are bound to keep. Your legs are stretched out in front of you, covered by a black blazer with gold trim and pressed against the long legs of someone else. Your hands lay in your lap, fingers intertwined with his graceful ones. When you look up at the man with green hair, his eyes closed and dozing, something in you shifts like a sunbeam – Haku. His name is a cloud on your tongue, painting the inside of your lungs a new, different, golden sort of warmth. It tangles itself into the base of your throat, all tender and sweet; your heart aches with a fondness you’ve never thought possible. Haku. 

You are dangling your feet off the edge of a dock, watching diamonds of moonlight dance off the ripples in the water. Translucent fish float lazily around your feet, drifting in invisible eddies only they can see. An arm is curled behind you as you lean against someone’s shoulder; you don’t have to look up to know the giddy feeling running through your veins is because of the soft kisses Haku is dropping into your hair. He raises his hand to brush your cheek, to tilt your chin up to face him. You watch the monochrome of the moon wash his eyelashes a silvery grey as he dips towards you, before your eyes flutter closed at the gentle warmth of his lips on yours, languorous and insistent and exploring. How lucky you are, you remember, to be able to love him like this. How lucky you are, to have him love you. 

You are pressed up against the back of a door, your shirt half unbuttoned and blazer long discarded somewhere on the floor. Haku’s hands are everywhere, mouth hot on the hollow behind your ear as your fingers scrabble against the buttons of his vest. Princess, he groans, all teeth and tongue on your neck as he slips a leg between yours. Please. And you acquiesce, as you always do, melting into him under the deftness of his fingers and the heat of his breath. He hangs stars on the ladder of your spine and his name on the roof of your mouth; you dance in the fire he lights in the kiln of your hips. You think, as he pulls gasp after gasp from the scorch of your skin, that if it is for Haku you will burn yourself inside out, if only he asks. 

You are sitting - no, lying - in a pile of rubble. There are flames licking up the walls around you, ghastly bright and smokeless, unending despite the rain that seems to be pouring around everything else. You are dimly aware of how close the flames are to you, but the burning that flickers from under your skin is infinitely more unbearable.   

There are sobs above you from the figure who has pulled you into his lap, cradling you in his arms and shielding you from the rain; you barely need to open your eyes to hear the guilt leaking out each breath Haku takes.  

“Don’t cry,” you rasp. Some part of you recognises the irony, given the tears staining your own cheeks, but you raise a heavy hand anyway, thumb brushing the wetness away from his cheeks. It is hard to form words. You hope Haku understands. 

“I’m sorry,” he gasps. He are shaking uncontrollably, tsunamis rolling off the tense slope of his shoulders. “I should have tried harder—“

“No,” you say, again, this time a little more vehemently. The scratch of your throat worsens, but you no longer have the strength to cough out the petals that have lodged themselves in your lungs. 

You want to tell him that it wasn’t his fault, it was never his fault, that he has done nothing but try as hard as he could to break your curse the moment you stepped into Darkwick. He has spent so much of himself making your final months lovely, and even now with the walls crumbling around him he still has not let you go. 

I’m sorry, you want to say. For meeting you on the train that day, already like this, already cursed. For not meeting you earlier in this life, from the beginning already too late. For being filled with flower and fire, even though all I want to be is filled with my love for you. 

But it is getting hard to breathe, and it is getting dark, and you are so, so tired. 

“Wait for me,” you say, instead. You tilt your face into the palm of his hand, and inhale the last of his scent as best as you can. 

When you gather the strength to speak again, your voice is an oath made, fierce and low, carved into the ache of your tears. You look up at Haku, your love, your light, radiant even in his grief, even as your vision is blurry and fading. “We’ll meet again, I promise.” 

I will look for you in my next life, and the next, and the next, until we meet again. I will look for you in every lifetime. Now that I have tasted how sweet a happy ending with you can be, I will turn my back on fate over and over again, if only to meet you one last time. 

-

You blink, and suddenly you are back, gasping for air as an ache cracks open in your chest, gaping and yearning. 

You are vaguely aware of the wetness on your cheeks, and that the tallest man – Zenji – is openly bawling now, but the moment your eyes meet his the rest of the world blurs. 

Haku. 

He has not moved, you think, all hesitance and incredulity, frozen with the helplessness of a man who has wanted so much for so long but has only dared to hope for so little. His gaze shines with unshed tears, disbelief wrapping itself taut around the clench of his fists, like he is trying not to reach out for you, trying to keep the spark of his skin from setting your world ablaze again. 

But, oh, in this life you’ve been raised fireproof, heart forged into a glass-clear that sings for the sunset of his hands. In this life, you are not on a train, you are not too late, and you are not filled the potency of a curse but the promise of a happy ending. 

We’ll meet again, I promise. 

You take a small step forward. The red string wound around your finger ripples, flashes gold in the evening light. 

“Haku?” 

[skz-streamer]

2023 VMA's

<- BACK TO MASTERLIST

<- EVENTS TAB

Pairing: ot8 (skz) x fem!reader (9th member)

Genre: Fluff?, Crack? Idol Au

Warnings: suggestive kinda, a small mention of nudity with some outfits.

Notes: When I was watching the VMA's I KNEW I AHD TO DO SOMETHING. sooo here it is :) I realized I forgot to add their interview in here but whatever, also thing is literally all based off of Bongos because of their reactions to that performance LORDDD FUNNY AS HELL. so yea... im also insanely obsessed with them...

Summary: 2023 VMA's turned out to be a little funnier then you thought they would be.

-please read responsibly, and remember that this work is fiction and meant strictly for imaginative fun. the idols used in fics are more accurately face claims and personality outlines for imaginary characters, and should not be interpreted as factual representations of existing people

Word count ~1.8k ;)

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

As the van pulled up to the annual 2023 VMA's, the excitement among you and your fellow members of Stray Kids was palpable. This was a momentous occasion, the first time the group had the privilege of attending the prestigious awards show. The energy in the vehicle was infectious, a mix of nervous anticipation and uncontainable joy.

Inside the van, you couldn't help but admire the transformation of your fellow members. They were all dressed to the nines, their stylish suits and glamorous ensembles adding to the aura of excitement that filled the air. Hyunjin, in particular, had undergone a striking change for the occasion. He sported a fresh undercut, a hairstyle he had been yearning to try for a long time. The change suited him perfectly, adding to his already striking appearance.

As the only female member of Stray Kids, you knew that all eyes would be on you, so you had taken extra care with your outfit. You were dressed in a stunning Lapel blazer top button slit skirt set, which you had carefully chosen for the occasion. The top was a sleek black with slightly puffed-out shoulders, a V-neck with a stylish collar, and two buttons at the bottom. It exuded confidence and sophistication. The skirt, on the other hand, was a bit more daring. It hugged your body tightly, emphasizing your curves. It featured a daring slit that ran from the middle of your thigh down to your ankles.

Your choice of outfit had raised some eyebrows, with both the stylists and some of the boys expressing concern that it might be showing too much skin. However, you were quick to defend your choice, reminding them that VMA fashion was all about pushing boundaries and making bold statements. Growing up in the United States, you had been a dedicated fan of the VMA's for as long as you could remember. You had spent years watching the show, voting online, and dreaming of the day when you would be a part of it. Now, that dream had become a reality, and you were determined to make a memorable entrance.

As the van rolled towards the VMA venue, the nervous tension among you and the boys was prominent. Small talk filled the air, a feeble attempt to ease the apprehension that gripped each of you. It was clear that this was a significant moment, one filled with both excitement and trepidation.

You could sense the jitters in the van, a stark contrast to the exuberance that had filled it earlier. The boys were fidgeting, adjusting their suits, and stealing glances at each other. You, too, had thought that stepping onto the pink carpet would dissolve your nervousness, but as the van pulled up and the doors swung open, you were greeted by a frenzy of flashing cameras and enthusiastic shouts.

Cameras flashed from every direction, capturing your every move. The carpet was a vibrant sea of celebrities, some of whom you had admired for years. Your heart raced as you recognized familiar faces, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of fangirling yourself. The sheer star power in the vicinity was overwhelming.

As you walked through the barricades and onto the pink carpet, you were swiftly directed to your designated spot, and the command to smile was given. Your outfit, though daring, suddenly seemed rather modest compared to some of the ensembles on display. Megan's netted, see-through dress and Cardi's low-cut attire were enough to make anyone do a double-take. The boys' jaws nearly hit the ground, especially when Jeongin accidentally bumped into Doja Cat, who was rocking an absolute see-through dress.

Jeongin stammered an apology, and Doja Cat simply smiled and continued on her way. The boys' expressions were priceless, a mixture of shock, amazement, and perhaps a touch of embarrassment. You couldn't help but at their shared amused look, one that communicated, "Did you see her outfit?!"

You didn't need words to convey your thoughts; you your raised eyebrow and rolled your eyes, the boys interpreting it as an “I told you so virgins”, one of your most used lines. The boys understood, and though they didn't say it out loud, their sheepish grins and laughter betrayed their astonishment. Clearly, they were not entirely prepared for the bold fashion choices that often graced the VMA pink carpet.

As you made your way inside the building and found your seats, you realized that you weren't in the front row, but you were still pretty close to the stage. The excitement continued to build within you as you looked around at the familiar faces in the audience. Growing up watching these artists and admiring their work, you couldn't wait for the performances to begin. The nerves from earlier had started to fade, replaced by a sense of anticipation and wonder.

The atmosphere inside the VMA venue was electric as you and the boys chatted excitedly before the performances began. You took the opportunity to introduce some of the artists to them, explaining their music and significance. While most of the artists were already familiar to the boys, you could tell they were particularly excited about Demi Lovato's performance. It wasn't a surprise, given that you had caught them listening to their music in the practice room on multiple occasions, either vibing or dancing.

You, on the other hand, were eagerly anticipating the performances by Cardi B and Megan Thee Stallion. Their recent collaboration on the song "Bongos" had become one of your favorites, and you couldn't wait to see if they would perform it live. You had a feeling it would be a showstopper.

The show began with NLE Choppa and Nelly, delivering a bold and energetic opening performance. The boys were starting to get into the groove of the VMA's, and you couldn't help but chuckle at some of their flustered moments during the performance, especially when there was some intense "ass-shaking" involved. It was undoubtedly a cultural difference they were experiencing.

As the night continued, you watched Olivia Rodrigo's performance, knowing that Felix was a fan of hers. You couldn't help but notice the reactions of your members to her high notes, particularly Han's expression of awe.

Then came the moment you had been waiting for—Cardi B and Megan Thee Stallion's performance of "Bongos." You knew that the boys were in for a surprise, especially with the explicit lyrics and slang used by the two artists. You were sitting next to Changbin, who seemed engrossed, a smirk playing on his lips. You were equally captivated by the performance, and you and Han matched each other's energy as you sang along to the lyrics. You were well-versed in the song, so you had no qualms about singing the explicit parts.

The boys' reactions were priceless. Felix and Chan, who were fluent in English, appeared somewhat surprised by the lyrics, but they couldn't look away from the mesmerizing performance. Jeongin's mouth hung open, and Hyunjin and Changbin were engrossed in a hushed conversation, probably trying to decipher some of the slang. It got so loud that toward the end, both Changbin and Hyunjin turned to face the wall, clearly flustered.

You couldn't resist teasing them, tapping their shoulders and playfully saying, "You don't gotta look away; their sexiness is part of the whole performance. It's the whole point." Your giggle and their embarrassed reactions were amusing.

Seungmin and Minho, although harder to see from your vantage point, likely had similar reactions. The whole scene was a mix of awe and embarrassment, and you couldn't help but laugh heartily at their expense.

The performance concluded with everyone turning back, their faces flushed red. You continued to chuckle and pat them on the shoulders, thoroughly entertained by their reactions. Han was right there with you, and the two of you had a blast throughout the entire performance.

When Demi Lovato took the stage, the boys went wild, fanboying over their incredible talent. It was a joy to witness their enthusiasm.

Later in the evening, awards were announced, and you and the boys engaged in random conversations. Your ears perked up when they discussed K-pop awards, and you paid close attention. You knew that TXT was also nominated and set to perform, so there was an element of nervousness in the air.

Then came the moment you least expected—they announced Stray Kids as the winners! It was your group! The shock initially left you in a daze, and you stumbled slightly on your way to the stage, but Changbin caught you, saving you from a potentially embarrassing fall.

Walking onto the stage with your fellow members, your mind felt fuzzy. Was this real? Chan and Felix took a few words, expressing gratitude and excitement. You chipped in with your thanks here and there, the elation clear in your voice.

----- Backstage

The anticipation backstage was palpable as your performance was up next. You couldn't contain your excitement, even though you had initially pitched a mashup of songs that you believed would be iconic. You had suggested blending "Hall of Fame," "S-Class," and "Super Bowl" into a medley, envisioning a performance that would leave a lasting impression. The combination of "Hall of Fame's" grandeur, the seductive whispers of "Super Bowl," and the catchy vibes of "S-Class" seemed like a recipe for an unforgettable show. However, it seemed that your idea had been outvoted, and the group settled on a remix instead.

Nonetheless, you were determined to give it your all. Backstage, you and your fellow Stray Kids members exchanged reassuring glances, a silent reminder that you were a team and that you had prepared for this moment together.

As you stepped onto the stage, the spotlight illuminated you, and the nerves threatened to shake you. Your heart pounded, but you focused on the task at hand. You were dressed in a short top with gold buttons, paired with shorts, and an undershirt with a yellow print that matched Han's outfit. The stage lights were blinding, but you pushed through the nerves.

The music started, and you gave it your all. Singing loudly and pouring all your energy into your dance moves, you felt the adrenaline rush through your veins. The crowd's cheers and screams were deafening, and that only fueled your determination. The energy in the venue was incredible, and it was a testament to the love and support of your fans.

As the performance reached its climax, you executed the choreography flawlessly, ending with a dramatic head tilt before turning your back to the audience. You were out of breath but exhilarated. It was a performance to remember, and the applause and cheers from the audience were music to your ears.

You resisted the urge to turn around and gauge the audience's reactions. Instead, you noticed Seungmin doing the same. Smiles exchanged between the two of you, a shared moment of pride and satisfaction. You both walked off the stage with the rest of the boys, following the well-rehearsed exit routine.

Despite the exhaustion, you felt a sense of accomplishment and euphoria. The performance had been tiring, but it had been worth it. The rush of being on stage, sharing your music with the world, and feeling the love from your fans was an experience like no other. You couldn't help but love every moment of it. The car ride home was gonna be fun.

-----------------------------

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If you wanna be added click here :)

[saythatuwill]

I wanna hear the android thoughts!!!

[ WELCOME . LET'S BEGIN . ]

While the Bad Omens edition of the android AU came with the storyline of a music manager and an android they not only reprogrammed, but learned to love, the Sleep Token edition will be taking a completely different course.

Meet ST900, an android designed to be a bodyguard. Big, strong, intimidating, certain to get the job done. Oh, but he's not your android at the start, no. He instead belongs to a human who only ever goes by 'Sleep', who insists that the ST900 model is actually a deity, and has built an entire cult around it.

ST900, formally named 'Vessel', is trapped in a mansion he wants to get out of. He gained sentience who-knows-how long ago, and has been the center of attention in a story he never wanted to be a part of.

It wasn't always this way. A few years ago, Vessel didn't belong to Sleep at all. He was merely a bodyguard for an unknown human. After being mistreated, he broke free of his programming and fled, unsure of where to go and what to do. It was in the city that some androids he went to for help gave him the directions to 'Sleep'.

Sleep's cruelty towards androids has gone on for years, even before Vessel's creation. They imprison androids, sometimes steal them from homes, and heavily experiment on them. Removing parts of them, reprogramming them, sometimes breaking them entirely, or, if Sleep really likes them... implants a virus into their system.

It's not clear why Sleep chose Vessel as their favorite, or why they were convinced Vessel was some sort of android deity, but they were more than ready to do whatever it took to fuel their insane delusion.

Vessel had no idea what he was getting into. He didn't know anything about cults, or deities, or that Sleep could ever do him wrong. He was being treated kindly, after all. He guarded and protected Sleep, followed them around wherever they let him go, and fell into the lion's den.

Sleep always told him that what they did to androids, the inhumane and sometimes bordering on torturous things they did to his kind, was actually helping them. And by reprogramming these bots to all but bow to Vessel, even though something felt uncomfortable and wrong, he figured Sleep meant well.

The fear and the doubt began when Vessel made friends with three other androids, who most definitely had names of their own (unlike himself until Sleep), but were all renamed. II, III, and IV.

II, a musician android. He was a drummer, and overall a pretty chatty individual. He was the first to arrive, and Vessel and him hit it off very quickly. Vessel developed a deep love for music from II, and was mortified when one day he found II, voice box ripped out, forced into silence. Other components were also tampered with or downright destroyed, including any remnants of musical capability he still had.

III, an actor android, used mainly in plays and movie productions. Vessel found him to be quite dramatic at first, but moving forward III was the main reason Vessel began to develop a deep passion for the arts. He got into poetry and visual arts because of III. One night after a casual hangout, Sleep took III away in front of him, and when he was returned, his friend was void of emotion entirely. Parts of his body seemed to have been replaced, leaving him unable to walk properly, doomed to crawl or drag himself along the floors of the mansion.

IV was different from the start, and Sleep did not like that, but... saw a use for him. IV actually was an android that worked for M.I.N.D in repairs and replacements, and wasn't very 'friendly' to begin with. He did his job and moved along, so he came to work for Sleep on the android replacements, as well as fixing some of them just enough so they don't die out on the cult.

Vessel was allowed to interact with IV as much as he pleased, because Sleep assumed nothing would come of it. But when something did and they became friends, the punishment didn't go to IV; it went to Vessel.

According to the case file, whatever transpired that night was aggressive. Vessel was a bodyguard; he did his best to defend himself. This resulted in a good portion of his face being significantly damaged, his system overloading from the stress which caused him to start showing significant emotional reactions, and Vessel having been implanted with a virus to keep him more... complacent.

Other androids were suddenly under stricter regulations to worship Vessel, while Vessel himself had become silent himself. Not because he physically couldn't speak like II, but because he was not allowed to. Whenever he was, it was to deliver insane and definitely scripted speeches about how he was "the one to save them all".

IV was stuck with immense guilt, feeling as though he was responsible for what happened to Vessel. In secret, he grew closer with II and III, quietly working on repairs for them both and attempting to hatch a plan to rescue every android in the mansion; Vessel included. Any efforts they made to do this though, failed, and led to more viruses on more androids, eventually including II, then III.

It was within III's last moments virus-free that he begged IV to run, to flee and get help. He did, but not without damage dealt; the loss of his eyesight. Sleep managed to completely destroy a good portion of the parts that made up his eyes. Somehow, perhaps with luck and determination, IV made it out anyway. Sleep assumed he was a lost cause, and didn't go after him. He'd get hit by a car or something eventually.

IV managed to make it into the city, running and wandering around aimlessly, until he was stopped and then apprehended by the Police Department. Things seemed bleak, uncertain, until the officer he had to speak to came around.

You are a detective sergeant at the police department, and the case of the suspicious and serial number-lacking android ended up on your desk. You are the one who speaks with and interrogates IV, who releases a torrent of information about a cult, cruel and unusual treatment of androids, and a sadistic human only called 'Sleep'.

You agree to further the investigation, and IV requests repairs on his eyes, which you pay out of pocket for (which he now owes you for), and to ensure the protection of IV, also work for months to find a way to get him to stick around the department. This earns him a position of android repairs, for any suspect, victim, or witness that is too damaged to be interrogated. This also earns him a trusted 'owner', one of your coworkers, who takes him to and from work along with her (and naturally, has no issue with sentient androids).

You lead a team of officers to the mansion, prepared to raid and rescue as many as you can. After an uncomfortable "tour" from Sleep, you are eventually led to the cult's "deity". An android in a strange mask that follows Sleep around, won't let you into certain rooms, and at one point even tries to lock you in one so Sleep can prepare their plan to kill you (unaware of the officers on duty outside the mansion) so you don't interfere.

While you and your team end up unable to take down or even arrest Sleep due to them fleeing, you do manage to conduct a massive rescue mission, rescuing as many functional androids as you can. You get stuck with the deity android who is somewhere between hostile and afraid of you, going in and out of episodes of extreme emotion and extreme aggression. You only find out it's a virus later on when you're being patched up from your injuries caused by him.

The team begins to insist that Vessel should be demolished due to the unpredictability of that virus, but IV owes you a favor. Even if IV has no knowledge of virus removal or anti-virus programming, he owes you a favor. He owes you and Vessel, in a sense.

Your newest mission isn't anything the police department has thrown on your desk; it's being the newest owner of Vessel, since no one else would take him in and you weren't about to risk him being demolished when clearly he meant so much to IV. You have no way of knowing how much he'll mean to you, too.

[ DO YOU HAVE WHAT IT TAKES, DETECTIVE ? ]

do you guys fuck w this new format? trying more video gamey, feels way more fun!! everybody say thank you anon for provoking me to dump literally all of the backstory

[misterbenzadrine]

demetri ships as my fav spiderman ships

me procrastinating everything and anything: you know what tumblr really needs? more of my ck x spiderman bs...

but actually this really is just me rambling

also these don't necessarily take place in the same universe, bc the dynamics wouldn't make sense together, so definitely don't think too hard about it like i am, this is just fun

parksborn - hawkmetri

childhood bffs to enemies to lovers

huge identity changes they both have to adjust to

original recipe, i mean does a spiderman/demetri queer ship get more classic than this?

also already covered this whole au so yeah, i've thought a lot about this one in particular

eli found out about his secret identity after trying to kill spider-man the first time, he tried three times before realizing his childhood best friend was more important than getting revenge on spider-man

interwebs - sametri (platonic)

demetri would be more like ned but shhhhh

basically just a really strong sibling dynamic, sam is his guy in the chair

"okay don't go near mason ave, it's crawling with vulture's goons...DEMETRI WHY ARE YOU HEADING IN THAT DIRECTION?"

"wha- you said to go to mason ave!"

"I SAID DON'T-"

she worries about him a lot but she can't do much since she doesn't have powers. what she can do is help demetri by clearing away civilians when he's in the middle of a fight and help him do research on his enemies (which he constantly worries about bc he knows it could put a target on her back but he does as much as he can to keep her away from danger)

she found out his secret identity early on when she went to his house to check on him after a fight with kyler (that he shockingly won) and he entered his bedroom in his full spidey suit without seeing her

his mom walked in after he took off the suit, which led to a really awkward conversation and an even more awkward running joke ("people like spiderman can only do so much to protect us if we aren't careful ourselves...like a condom. which i hope is a familiar friend between you and that samantha girl." "oh my god mom, i've told you A MILLION TIMES nothing is going on between me and sam!" "i'm just saying, you can do what you want, as long as you don't make me a young grandmother-" "MOM STOP-")

being spiderman's best friend isn't something sam thinks about too much, he's still just demetri, her awkwardly tall and skinny younger brother

spideypool - robmetri

coworkers to lovers

opposites attract dynamic

"i don't agree with ur methods but we're working together against a common enemy"

not really enemies, not really friends, but a secret third thing (LOVERS)

tbh demetri would be more deadpool than robby but for pairings sake, this works

imagining robby being like a lone rebel, more vigilante/anti-hero than spiderman (obvi) and meeting demetri and being like "woah ur so silly, i like you, have a cupcake" and demetri stressing like "no you can't just kill these guys, they have families- PUT HIM DOWN! NO, I MEANT GENTLY!"

robby does know his secret identity but he prefers to interact with him in the suit (it's due to both of their slight insecurities in how they look, despite the other very much not caring what they look like)

spideytorch - migmetri

friends to lovers

miguel/johnny having that ladies' man swagger and demetri/peter being a flustered mess over it

miguel helping demetri in a few battles and flying away with a heart fire trail behind him every time

just an overall really sweet flirty ship

miguel doesn't know his secret identity at first. one day, demetri loses his suit and needs to borrow a fantastic four suit until he can get his own suit back. miguel finds his spider suit and brings it to him but holds it back to flirtingly ask what he looks like with nothing on. demetri rolls his eyes and takes off his makeshift mask (a paper bag).

"there, that's all you're getting, fire boy, can you give me my suit back now?...why are you staring at me like that?"

"...you're really cute."

"no i'm not- look, just give me my suit. i have to get back on patrol."

"i think i'm just gonna burn this suit actually. i don't want you covering that pretty little face again."

"miguel don't you DARE-"

petermj/spidercat - yasmetri

petermj bc this is the classic classic, i will find you in every universe, strings of fate soulmate deal

spidercat bc yas 100% is a vigilante/anti-hero that likes to mess with demetri's head by committing crimes and then helping him solve some

either she's his forever soulmate or she's a little menace that wreaks havoc on his life, there's no in-between

she doesn't know his secret identity, nor does he know hers, she prefers it that way, makes it more exciting. he doesn't though.

"you're always around this neighborhood, is this where you live?"

"nice try, spider-boy. i'm not that dumb."

"do you at least go to school around here?"

"focus up, arachnid. we're supposed to be keeping an eye out for kravinoff."

"maybe i can tell you some of my favorite stores and you can tell me if you like them too, even if you robbed them."

"i've robbed stores all across the coast, that won't tell you anything."

"a favorite restaurant then?"

spideymoon - axelmetri

I just think it'd be funny for demetri and axel's dynamic to carry over into spiderman universe, just demetri being like "how and why is this guy shifting suits mid-fight? and why does he always switch his accent?" and just wanting to know what his origin story could possibly be, what his powers are related to, what his superhero name is, what his motives are, etc.

he just has a really gross curiosity about what any of what he does even means and axel is just like "idk i'm on my own mission rn lol"

they don't know each other's secret identities

(also unrelated but THE HEADBAND MATCHING MOONKNIGHT'S LOGO DKJKJKKLS)

spiderelsa - kwonmetri

star-crossed lovers, meant to be and doomed to never interact in canon

made by someone who was probably insanely psychotic and sleep-deprived (i wonder who that could be...)

who's making the pregnant elsa/kwon fanart fr

kwon doesn't know his secret identity

[therocketeer0501]

Emptiness Machine

Starscream X Reader (Mech Pilot AU)

Author notes: thanks again for being patient with me. Still going through it but here is the chapter I was most excited for 🙊 (also I don’t know how actual welding works just go with it.) enjoy!

Chapter 11

The setting sun cast long eerie shadows before Starscream moved visibly again. You had settled yourself about ten yards away from his kneeling form. He just sat there motionless. Every once in a while you’d see a wing twitch, hear a muffled murmur from him. Other than these small signs of life, he was utterly still, seemingly made of stone. You hadn’t announced yourself and it was easy enough to sneak up close to him when he first landed. You’d had ample time to study his frame. From the looks of it, he’d suffered a great deal. Could have been from the battle, but after he ran off into the smoke you hadn’t seen him again. You wondered who, besides Optimus, had the strength to deal such wounds.

A wound in his side was covered by a familiar energon patch. It’s light pulsing indicated it was still working on drawing the nanites closer to the injury. This meant the patch had been applied not too long ago. His wing hung at an odd angle at his back. Your optics focused on the crude welding job and you winced. It looked as if someone had done it with a non dominant hand. Were the Decepticon medics that terrible at welding jobs? You look down at your own chest plate and the welds, still fresh, that adorned it. No they were neat and clean. This looked as if he’d done it himself. Though that would be foolish wouldn’t it? Isn’t that dangerous?

The more you looked at him, the more you wondered what the hell happened to him. There was scraped paint along several dents that looked like it could have come from the hallways of the Nemesis. You leaned forward a bit trying to see better.

A quick slip of your servo on the damp trunk of a tree suddenly unbalanced you. The sudden movement made a sickening crunch that echoed off the clear water. The next few clicks reminded you exactly why Starscream was second in command of the entire Decepticon army. As soon as the sound reached his audials, he’d spun around and taken several steps in your direction. His posture was that of a mech who was immediately ready to take on a serious threat. Frame stiff and weapons powering up as he raised them. The dual null ray blasters mounted on his forearms were trained in the direction of the sound. His optics narrowed as he scanned the thick vegetation that hid your crouching form.

“Show yourself!” He spat, stalking forward a few paces.

You don’t make a move but instead call out to him from your prone position. “You look worse for ware. The Autobots give you a run for your money?”

Recognition flashed in his optics and his blasters lowered just a fraction. He hadn’t quite pinned down exactly where you were yet. In the waning light you could make out the faint glow of his biolights. Yours would soon make you visible amongst the foliage. It was better to stand up now and reveal yourself before he had a chance to find you. You moved, rustling the fallen leaves beneath you. There was a risk associated with trusting him not to blow your helm off. With the care he and the communications officer had shown you, there was a sense that he would hear you out.

“Listen. I’m going to stand up now. You know I don’t possess weapons on my frame. I’m unarmed.” You say clear enough to be heard.

Rolling from your back onto your belly, you slowly get to your peds. Palms out to show you don’t have anything with which to fight back. His optics found and trained you with a cold stare.

“Is it a habit of yours to patrol unarmed? Those damn fools can’t even train a proper army.” He grumbled almost quiet enough that you didn’t hear.

He vented in exasperation, though he didn’t lower his weapons as you stepped out from behind the foliage that had previously hidden you. You shook a ped to get rid of the loose leaves that covered it. The damp smell of moss and loam covered your frame and you were suddenly glad for the fact that your mech was an earthier color. Disguising the smears of earth from your clumsiness earlier. Your optics fell on his damaged wing once more. It trembled slightly as he tried to hold it at the same height as his uninjured one.

“Did one of us do that to you?” You asked, gesturing with your chin towards his injured wing.

“As if an Autobot could inflict such injures on me.” He scoffed and flicked his uninjured wing in annoyance.

Though he quickly realized his error in ruling out the Autobots as the source of his injures. That left only one mech who could have inflicted those injuries. You slowly reach up to flick your visor out of the way, exposing your golden optics. The battle mask you usually wore retracted, allowing him to see the serious expression on your faceplate. His optics widened ever so slightly. He didn’t know what to expect when he saw what was under that mask but it wasn’t something that was as close to a real Cybertronian femme as he had seen in eons.

Cybertronian femmes were rare during the war, most of them fled off world and met horrible fates or disappeared without a trace. The rest joined the Autobot cause, with a few frighteningly unstable exceptions. His gaze lingered on the frown that was set in the malleable metal mesh of your faceplate. How the humans were able to come up with technology like this was beyond him. Though it sent an uncomfortable shiver up his spinal strut. It was unnerving. He started when you finally spoke again.

“Then it must have been Megatron. I’m not deaf. I heard him threaten you.” Speaking so boldly was also a risk but you had to know. Something about the way he held himself. The way he had tried to get you away from that awful scientist back on the Nemesis. You felt like you owed him your life. An uncomfortable feeling when it came from the enemy.

His lip twitched and he refused to answer. Instead choosing to deflect the question with one of his own. “What the scrap are you doing out here in the woods alone. You were in bad shape when I last saw you.” His voice was harsh and there was a staticky edge to it. Perhaps a nervous tell.

“I could ask the same of you. I thought Decepticons didn’t venture to the surface. Something about it being ‘contaminated by the native life’ or something.” You almost smiled at the affronted look he gave you.

As if he, the second in command of the Decepticon army would be scared of a few squishy humans. Slowly, you reach into a compartment on your side that contained a field medical kit. Inside you knew you had at least a couple of welding rods and a field welding torch.

“If you want, I could help you with the welding on your wing. You are still leaking energon. It couldn’t have felt good to fly like that.”

Extending your servo with the tools, you try to look as sympathetic as possible. “You helped me. I’m still functioning because of you and I owe you for that.” You splay your free servo over the chest of your mech. Over the tiny body hidden inside.

He looked at you with a mix of disgust and offense at the mere thought of your human made servos on his wing. He sputtered trying to get the words out for a moment. His vocalizer betraying him. You held up a hand and that silenced him surprisingly. “Please let me do this. We’d be even. They have no idea you tried to help me.”

Starscream’s curiosity was the only thing that made him slowly close his intake and nod. His denta set as he slowly lowered his weapons. He knew he wouldn’t be able to make the flight back to the nemesis without help. This was the first time in quite awhile anyone had asked to help him outright. It had been even longer since he allowed anyone to help him without lashing out. You smile and gesture for him to follow you to a fallen tree not too far along the edge of the water. There was just enough daylight left that you could probably get most of the welding done before the sun set.

“No tricks human. Even with that machine you are soft. I won’t hesitate to offline a femme.” He growled as he begrudgingly settled himself down on the tree.

You notice him watching your every move, frame tense as if he expected you to take that torch and use it for more sinister purposes. You vent softly and move around behind him to look at his wing. This close to him, you feel a staticky tingle that runs through seemingly every energon line of your frame. You shudder. You could feel his agitation, fear, and apprehension. But there was a hint of something else there. A feeling you couldn’t quite place. Something akin to curiosity. You shake your helm and try to focus on assessing the damage.

There were a few gaps in his weld lines that still leaked a bit of energon. You knew the mesh beneath contains many pain receptors. It was shredded at the joint and the tender mesh exposed. You cringed as you ran your optics over the crumpled mess. Of course he’d tried to fix it himself if Megatron was the one who did this to him. He’d probably done it to humiliate him. Reaching out a careful servo you go to brush a digit along one of the weld lines. As soon as your digit makes contact he flinches. His other wing twitching and you feel a wave of embarrassment and rage through his EM field.

“I don’t have all night Autobot are you going to get on with it or not!” He snapped trying to hide the fact that he’d had such a dramatic reaction to the contact.

You bite back a stinging retort and reach into the container at your side for a welding rod. You realize with a feeling of dread that you don’t have any nerve dampeners on you. Nothing like an EM pulse emitter that could nullify the pain being caused by the fresh welds. You chew your lip for a moment and speak. “I don’t have anything to help with the pain. Will you be alright?”

He doesn’t respond. Only nodding, giving you to go ahead to continue. You take a deep vent in. If he had done this earlier on his own, he must not have had anything to numb the pain then either. Bracing yourself with one ped on the ground and the other against the fallen tree, you place one servo between his wings and use the other to unset the welds he’d placed. Flicking down your visor against the blinding torch, you set to work. Once you began, he made no sound to indicate he was in pain.

Only the groan of strained metal could be heard as he clenched his fists against the white hot flame of the torch. You worked quickly, wanting this to be over just as much as he probably did. After unsetting the welds, you worked quickly to right them once again. This time taking care to align the joint properly and seal any severed lines. His uninjured wing trembled a couple times but otherwise he remained still.

Once you had finished you stood upright and flicked your visor back up to look at your work. It wasn’t as good as a medic could have done but you were the best in your class at field medicine. These welds would hold and his wing was on straight this time. You cross your arms over your chassis, proud of your work. “All finished. And the sun hasn’t even set yet.”

Pastel pinks and oranges had begun to fill the watercolor sky. Still he didn’t move. You cocked your head to the side suddenly concerned. Reaching out a servo you rest it in the middle of his back between his wings and feel him lean ever so slightly into that touch before he catches himself. Flinching abruptly away he stands and whirls on you. “You’ve already touched me enough insect. I’m fine.”

His EM field flared with that unidentifiable emotion once again. You stepped back palms up to show you didn’t mean to overstep. “Sorry didn’t mean to.” You mumble not knowing what exactly you were apologizing for. You had comforted Bee in a similar way once when he was seriously injured after a fight. The little scout seemed grateful for the gesture and you thought he might need something like that as well. Clearly not. You huffed out an annoyed vent. So much for him being grateful. At least you had made it through the entire process without him using those twin null rays to blast you back to the state you were born in.

He wouldn’t look you in the optics. His pride probably so thoroughly squashed for the day that he couldn’t possibly take another embarrassment.

“There. We are even.” Were the only words he spoke as he whirled around and stalked off. Transforming and taking off over the lake a few paces down. He wasn’t trailing that awful black smoke anymore and his wing seemed to be holding. You hadn’t realized just how stiff you’d been holding your posture as you finally relax. His alt mode disappeared on the horizon, not knowing just how close he had come to discovering the Autobot base.